solve the riddle of his past, though the real name of
Vaucheray's accomplice has not leaked out, there is one man, at least,
who knows it: isn't that so? Daubrecq has recognized your son Antoine,
through the alias of Gilbert, has he not?"

"Yes, yes..."

"And he promises to save him, doesn't he? He offers you his freedom, his
release, his escape, his life: that was what he offered you, was it not,
on the night in his study, when you tried to stab him?"

"Yes... yes... that was it..."

"And he makes one condition, does he not? An abominable condition, such
as would suggest itself to a wretch like that? I am right, am I not?"

Clarisse did not reply. She seemed exhausted by her protracted struggle
with a man who was gaining ground daily and against whom it was
impossible for her to fight. Lupin saw in her the prey conquered in
advance, delivered to the victor's whim. Clarisse Mergy, the loving wife
of that Mergy whom Daubrecq had really murdered, the terrified mother of
that Gilbert whom Daubrecq had led astray, Clarisse Mergy, to save her
son from the scaffold, must, come what may and however ignominious the
position, yield to Daubrecq's wishes. She would be the mistress,
the wife, the obedient slave of Daubrecq, of that monster with the
appearance and the ways of a wild beast, that unspeakable person of whom
Lupin could not think without revulsion and disgust.

Sitting down beside her, gently, with gestures of pity, he made her lift
her head and, with his eyes on hers, said:

"Listen to me. I swear that I will save your son: I swear it... Your son
shall not die, do you understand?... There is not a power on earth that
can allow your son's head to be touched as long as I am alive."

"I believe you... I trust your word."

"Do. It is the word of a man who does not know defeat. I shall succeed.
Only, I entreat you to make me an irrevocable promise."

"What is that?"

"You must not see Daubrecq again."

"I swear it."

"You must put from your mind any idea, any fear, however obscure, of an
understanding between yourself and him... of any sort of bargain..."

"I swear it."

She looked at him with an expression of absolute security and reliance;
and he, under her gaze, felt the joy of devotion and an ardent longing
to restore that woman's happiness, or, at least, to give her the peace
and oblivion that heal the worst wounds:

"Come," he said, in a cheerful tone, rising from his chair, "all will
yet be well.