Hush! Do not let my father hear you call me Madame.
[_Converses aside with_ JEAN.
GOUROC.
[_Taking a newspaper from table_.]
Strange!--a Paris journal, dated the day after our escape.
DUKE.
[_Taking the paper_.]
There may be some notice of our flight.
[_Reads_.
JEAN.
[_To_ DIANE.]
Will you never confess your marriage to Kauvar?
DIANE.
Never!--Unless he finds us with evidence of innocence none can
question.
JEAN.
He will! We can trust the wit of his deep love for that.
DIANE.
So you believe him innocent?
JEAN.
As innocent as my own sweetheart, dear Denise.
[DIANE _weeps_.]
What--tears, Madame?
DIANE.
Tears of triumph--that your heart echoes mine! Ah, Jean, we two,
alone, of all the world, believe he's not a traitor.
DUKE.
Here's a list of martyrs slaughtered the day that we escaped.
GOUROC.
[_Taking the paper_.]
And here's a name underlined with ink.
[_Starting up with great joy_.]
By heaven, your own!--See!--In the list of fallen heads--the Duc de
Beaumont!
[_The_ DUKE _takes paper_.
DIANE.
[_Coming toward_ GOUROC.]
You speak of the man who took my father's place, as though you exulted
in his death!--Was he an enemy of yours?
GOUROC.
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