You cannot barter my life for that of your enemy." "No! no! no!" rejoined Chauvelin blandly; "not for that of my enemy, I know, but--" Armand caught at his words like a drowning man at a reed.
"For hers!" he exclaimed.
"For hers ?" queried the other with obvious puzzlement.
"Mademoiselle Lange," continued Armand with all the egoistic ardour of the lover who believes that the attention of the entire world is concentrated upon his beloved.
"Mademoiselle Lange! You will set her free now that I am in your power." Chauvelin smiled, his usual suave, enigmatical smile.
"Ah, yes!" he said.

"Mademoiselle Lange.

I had forgotten." "Forgotten, man ?--forgotten that those murderous dogs have arrested her ?--the best, the purest, this vile, degraded country has ever produced.

She sheltered me one day just for an hour.

I am a traitor to the Republic--I own it.