256 BLANCHE DE BEAULIEU. 
Blanche, do you love me?” “Is this a time or place, Marceau, for 
you to ask or me to reply to such a question?” “ Yes, Blanche; 
for we are between life and death, time and eternity. Answer me 
quickly, for now every moment becomes a day, every hour a year.— 
Blanche, dost thou love me?” ‘Oh yes, yes!” she exclaimed, and 
hid her blushing face in his bosom. “It is enough!” said Marceau, 
“this instant, then, you must accept me for your husband.” She 
started. “In the name of heaven, what is your design?” ‘To 
snatch you from death ; we will see if they will dare to carry to the 
scaffold the wife of a republican officer.” Blanche now perceived 
the motive of his proposition ; but she trembled at the idea of the 
danger tu which he would expose himself in saving her by this 
means, and, recalling all her courage, she replied firmly, “‘ Marceau, 
it is impossible.” ‘ Impossible?” he exclaimed, “ impossible? and 
why? Is this a time, Blauche, for displaying any false feelings of 
delicacy, with the scaffold, the axe, the executioner, awaiting you ?” 
“No, no!” cried the unhappy girl, “ not so; it is for thee I trem- 
ble, Marceau. I do not dread death; for God knows that, with the 
exception of one bright and transient gleam, my short life has been 
full of misery and sorrow, and I am ready to drain my cup of bit- 
terness even to the dregs, if it be Has will: but I cannot—wmill not 
—bring disgrace on your name.” ‘‘ So this is your motive for re- 
jecting the only hope you have left! Then listen to me, Blanche. 
You refuse to accept of safety at my hands ; but you cannot drive 
me from you. Your fate shall be mine: no human power shall 
separate us. The words ‘ Vive le Roi’ will be sufficient to close 
upon me the doors of your dungeon—will sentence me to share with 
you the scaffold and the grave!” ‘Oh, cease! in pity cease! Go, 
Marceau ; leave me to my fate!” ‘Go! you bid me leave you! 
Blanche, I swear by heaven that if I go hence without your giving 
me the right to defend you, J will seek out your father, your be- 
reaved, your heart-broken father. I will say to him, “ Thy daugh. 
ter could have saved herself, and would not. She willed that your 
last days should be embittered. She has brought down your grey 
hairs with sorrow to the grave. Ay, weep! weep, old man! not 
for the loss of thy daughter, but that her love for thee was not strong 
enough to make her wish for life.” Then, taking her hand, he ex- 
claimed passionately, ‘ Oh, for pity’s sake! by all you hold most 
sacred in the world, Blanche, Blanche, consent to become my wife! 
There is no other hope for you—you must not, ought not to reject 
it!” “ You ought not!” interrupted a strange voice from the fur- 
ther extremity of the dark cell; “ for religion forbids us to sacrifice 
