I must believe that you have forced me to play a most ridiculous part.

Until now I doubted it." The poor girl bowed her head, crimsoning with shame to the roots of her hair; but she made no attempt at denial.
"_I_ was not my own mistress," she stammered; "my father commanded and threatened, and I--I obeyed him." "That matters little," he interrupted; "your role has not been that which a pure young girl should play." It was the only reproach he had uttered, and still he regretted it, perhaps because he did not wish her to know how deeply he was wounded, perhaps because--as he afterward declared--he could not overcome his love for Marie-Anne.
"Now," he resumed, "I understand your presence here.

You come to ask mercy for Monsieur d'Escorval." "Not mercy, but justice.

The baron is innocent." Martial approached Marie-Anne, and lowering his voice: "If the father is innocent," he whispered, "then it is the son who is guilty." She recoiled in terror.

He knew the secret which the judges could not, or would not penetrate.
But seeing her anguish, he had pity.
"Another reason," said he, "for attempting to save the baron! His blood shed upon the guillotine would form an impassable gulf between Maurice and you.