"If you loved your children," said the admiral, frowning, "you would
have done your duty at once."

"But I do not love your son!" cried Marie, proud but trembling. "O God,
must a wretched woman's heart be thus trampled? You, father, a minister
of truth and justice, tell this man that God must not be called on to
witness an oath dragged from the weak and helpless!"

She turned to the admiral's son; and added, sobbing--

"You are young, perhaps you have loved: one day no doubt you will love.
I appeal to your loyalty as a young man, to your courtesy as a knight,
to all your noblest impulses; join me, and turn your father away from
his fatal project. You have never seen me before: you do not know but
that in my secret heart I love another. Your pride should be revolted at
the sight of an unhappy woman casting herself at your feet and imploring
your favour and protection. One word from you, Robert, and I shall bless
you every moment of my life: the memory of you will be graven in my
heart like the memory of a guardian angel, and my children shall name
you nightly in their prayers, asking God to grant your wishes. Oh, say,
will you not save me? Who knows, later on I may love you--with real
love."

"I must obey my father," Robert replied, never lifting his eyes to the
lovely suppliant.

The priest was silent. Two minutes passed, and these four persons, each
absorbed in his own thoughts, stood motionless as statues carved at the
four corners of a tomb. Marie was thrice tempted to throw herself into
the sea. But a confused distant sound suddenly struck upon her ears: