And so he won the day in the end, and when the sentence of death was passed, it was passed with the reservation that should the prisoner, upon reflection, be inclined to show himself more loyal to France and the interests of the Republic by telling them how Ornbreval might be recaptured, he would find them still inclined to mercy and forgiveness.

Allowing his eyes to stray round the Court at that moment, La Boulaye started at sight of an unexpected face.

It was Mademoiselle de Bellecour, deathly pale and with the strained, piteous look that haunts the eyes of the mad.

He shivered at the thought of the peril to herself in coming into that assembly; then, recovering himself, he turned to his judges.
"Citizen-President, Citizens all, I thank you; but I should be unappreciative of your kindness did I permit you to entertain false hopes.

My purpose is unalterable." "Take him away," the President commanded impatiently, and as they removed him Mademoiselle crept from the Court, weeping softly in her poignant grief, and realising that not so much for the President's ear as for her own had La Boulaye uttered those words.