"She is willing!" Tavannes repeated quietly. And if, in this moment of
the fruition of his schemes, he felt his triumph, he masked it under a
face of sombre purpose. "Do you doubt me, man?"
"From her own lips!" the other replied, undaunted--and few could say as
much--by that harsh presence. "From no other's!"
"Sirrah, you--"
"I can die. And you can no more, my lord!" the minister answered
bravely. "You have no threat can move me."
"I am not sure of that," Tavannes answered, more blandly. "But had you
listened to me and been less anxious to be brave, M. La Tribe, where no
danger is, you had learned that here is no call for heroics! Mademoiselle
is willing, and will tell you so."
"With her own lips?"
Count Hannibal raised his eyebrows. "With her own lips, if you will," he
said. And then, advancing a step and addressing her, with unusual
gravity, "Mademoiselle de Vrillac," he said, "you hear what this
gentleman requires. Will you be pleased to confirm what I have said?"
She did not answer, and in the intense silence which held the room in its
freezing grasp a woman choked, another broke into weeping. The colour
ebbed from the cheeks of more than one; the men fidgeted on their feet.
Count Hannibal looked round, his head high. "There is no call for
tears," he said; and whether he spoke in irony or in a strange obtuseness
was known only to himself.
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