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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Count Hannibal A Romance of the Court of France"

"
"Why me? Why me?" she wailed, and she held out her open hands to him,
her face wan and colourless. "You come to me, a woman! Why to me?"
"You are his wife!"
"And he is my husband!"
"Therefore he trusts you," was the unyielding, the pitiless answer. "You,
and you alone, have the opportunity of doing this."
She gazed at him in astonishment. "And it is you who say that?" she
faltered, after a pause. "You who made us one, who now bid me betray
him, whom I have sworn to love? To ruin him whom I have sworn to
honour?"
"I do!" he answered solemnly. "On my head be the guilt, and on yours the
merit."
"Nay, but--" she cried quickly, and her eyes glittered with passion--"do
you take both guilt and merit! You are a man," she continued, her words
coming quickly in her excitement, "he is but a man! Why do you not call
him aside, trick him apart on some pretence or other, and when there are
but you two, man to man, wrench the warrant from him? Staking your life
against his, with all those lives for prize? And save them or perish?
Why I, even I, a woman, could find it in my heart to do that, were he not
my husband! Surely you, you who are a man, and young--"
"Am no match for him in strength or arms," the minister answered sadly.
"Else would I do it! Else would I stake my life, Heaven knows, as gladly
to save their lives as I sit down to meat! But I should fail, and if I
failed all were lost.


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