Count Hannibal

"You have nothing to offer for them," he said, in a cold, hard tone.

"Nothing that is not mine already, nothing that is not my right, nothing

that I cannot take at my will. My word?" he continued, seeing her about

to interrupt him. "True, Madame, you have it, you had it. But why need

I keep my word to you, who tempt me to break my word to the King?"

She made a weak gesture with her hands. Her head had sunk on her

breast--she seemed dazed by the shock of his contempt, dazed by his

reception of her offer.

"You saved the letters?" he continued, interpreting her action. "True,

but the letters are mine, and that which you offer for them is mine also.

You have nothing to offer. For the rest, Madame," he went on, eyeing her

cynically, "you surprise me! You, whose modesty and virtue are so great,

would corrupt your husband, would sell yourself, would dishonour the love

of which you boast so loudly, the love that only God gives!" He laughed

derisively as he quoted her words. "Ay, and, after showing at how low a

price you hold yourself, you still look, I doubt not, to me to respect

you, and to keep my word. Madame!" in a terrible voice, "do not play

with fire! You saved my letters, it is true! And for that, for this

time, you shall go free, if God will help me to let you go! But tempt me

not! Tempt me not!" he repeated, turning from her and turning back again

with a gesture of despair, as if he mistrusted the strength of the

restraint which he put upon himself. "I am no more than other men!

Perhaps I am less. And you--you who prate of love, and know not what

love is--could love! could love!"

He stopped on that word as if the word choked him--stopped, struggling

with his passion. At last, with a half-stifled oath, he flung away from

her, halted and hung a moment, then, with a swing of rage, went off again

violently. His feet as he strode along the river-bank trampled the

flowers, and slew the pale water forget-me-not, which grew among the

grasses.