It was Louis.

His eyes were staring, his hair waved, his cheeks were flabby with dismay, He breathed as if he had been running.
'What is it ?' Mademoiselle cried, while he was still some way off.
'Speak, man.

My sister?
Is she--' 'Clon,' he gasped.
The name changed her to stone.
'Clon?
What of him ?' she muttered.
'In the village!' Louis panted, his tongue stuttering with terror.

'They are flogging him.

They are killing him! To make him tell!' Mademoiselle grasped the sundial and leant against it, her face colourless; and, for an instant, I thought that she was fainting.
'Tell ?' I said mechanically.