dead the Countess would presumably
return to a saner frame of mind, and forget the mad attachment, if
indeed she had entertained it.

He took a certain melancholy satisfaction in the hope that he would at
least become one of her sacred and cherished memories. But no memory
can successfully dispute the claim of the living, as a rule. She would
eventually marry this Englishman; he would make her a good husband, and
by and by she would be happy, and Marteau would not be there to see.
And for that he would be glad.

If the Emperor had been there, if the war god had come and summoned his
men to arms again, Marteau might have eased the fever in his brain and
soul by deeds of prowess on fields of battle, but in peace he should
only eat his heart out thinking of her in the other man's arms. There
were things worse than death, and this was one. On the whole, he
concluded it was just as well, or even better, that he should die.

He was sufficiently versed in military and even civil law to see that
his condemnation was irregular in the extreme, but he let it go. He
was an obscure officer of a lost cause. There would not be any too
rigorous an inquiry into what disposition the Marquis made of him.
Nobody would care after it was all over. There remained nothing for
him, therefore, but to die like a soldier, and--he smiled bitterly at
the thought--almost a gentleman!

He had been informed that any reasonable request he made would be
granted. He would fain see a priest of his Church, but later, and
endeavor to make his peace with man after the time-honored custom of
his religion, and thus insure his peace with God. Meanwhile, a request
for a brief interview with the woman he loved had trembled on his lips,
but it had found no utterance. He was quite aware how he stood in that
quarter. He had come to the conclusion that the Marquis, at least, had
seen through the little comedy--or, was it not a tragedy, after
all?--which he had played in her bed-chamber, and he had convinced
himself that the swiftness, the almost unseemly haste of his trial and
condemnation and the nearness of his execution were largely due to a
determination on the part of the old noble to get him out of the way
before any scandal should arise. Perhaps scandal was certain to come,
and gossip to prevail, but it would be less harmful if the man were
dead.

To ask to see a woman whom he was supposed to have insulted so deeply
and wronged so grievously