humiliation be her only punishment. I promised silence in return for
confession, will you grant it?"

Bertrande assented with a contemptuous gesture.

"Go, fear not," said the old man, and Rose went out. Pierre also left
the house.

Left to herself, Bertrande felt utterly worn out by so much emotion;
indignation gave way to depression. She began to realise what she had
done, and the scandal which would fall on her own head. Just then her
baby awoke, and held out its arms, smiling, and calling for its father.
Its father, was he not a criminal? Yes! but was it for her to ruin him,
to invoke the law, to send him to death, after having taken him to her
heart, to deliver him to infamy which would recoil on her own head and
her child's and on the infant which was yet unborn? If he had sinned
before God, was it not for God to punish him? If against herself, ought
she not rather to overwhelm him with contempt? But to invoke the help,
of strangers to expiate this offence; to lay bare the troubles of her
life, to unveil the sanctuary of the nuptial couch--in short, to summon
the whole world to behold this fatal scandal, was not that what in her
imprudent anger she had really done? She repented bitterly of her haste,
she sought to avert the consequences, and notwithstanding the night and
the bad weather, she hurried at once to Pierre's dwelling, hoping at all
costs to withdraw her denunciation. He was not there: he had at once
taken a horse and started for Rieux. Her accusation was already on its
way to the magistrates!

At break of day the house where Martin Guerre lodged when at Rieux was
surrounded by soldiers. He came forward with confidence and inquired