ACT III.

SCENE. _Headquarters of Royalists in Vendée. Interior of hall in old chateau. Fireplace; large doorways with staircase leading to terrace, overlooking Granville; Faubourg de Calvaire in middle ground. Doors from hall. Bay window with large table covered with papers, maps, etc. Charts near table and fireplace_.

DISCOVERED: SENTINEL _on terrace_; LA HOGUE _seated at the table busy with papers_.

_At rise of curtain--drums and fifes heard in distance_.

DENISE _enters, goes to terrace, gazes anxiously, then turns and crosses quickly to_ LA HOGUE.

DENISE.

[_Shouting loudly_.]

Monsieur La Hogue!

LA HOGUE.

[_Gruffly_.]

Well?

DENISE.

Do you hear?

LA HOGUE.

[_Impatiently_.]

Hear what?

DENISE.

The drums and piccolos yonder.

LA HOGUE.

[_Listening_.]

I can hear nothing.

[_Drums, etc., sound more loud_.

DENISE.

But listen now, it grows louder--up from Ville d'Avranches.

LA HOGUE.

[_Starting up_.]

D'Avranches?--Ha! Re-inforcements for the Kings' army! None too soon!

[_Drums, etc., cease_.]

[_Enter an_ ORDERLY, _who presents papers_. LA HOGUE _takes papers, reads, and exclaims_.] The Count de Parame with recruits!

[_To the_ ORDERLY.]

Tell your Colonel to report here instantly! General de la Rochejacquelein [_Enter_ LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.] is indignant at his delay, and--

LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.

[_To_ LA HOGUE.]

Gently, old friend! La Rochejacquelein will speak for himself.

[_To_ ORDERLY.]

Ask the Count to honour me with his presence here as speedily as possible.

[_Exit_ ORDERLY.]

Now these re-inforcements have arrived, we'll give these rebels battle.

LA HOGUE.

At last, thank God! And we're ready for the fight.

[_Pointing_.]

In the Faubourg de Calvaire there's hardly a house but harbours a detachment of our men.

LA ROCHE.

With that village in our hands we'll bring Granville town to terms. To-night we will assault the place at every point.

LA HOGUE.

[_Reverently_.]

And God in mercy aid King Louis' men!

LA ROCHE _and_ DENISE. [_Together_.]

Amen!

LA ROCHE.

[_To_ LA HOGUE.]

Await the Count upon the terrace, and take him to my private room. But no roughness to the Colonel--try to be charming for a change.

LA HOGUE.

Bah! Leave charmers to women,--only fighters win at war!

[_Exit_.

LA ROCHE.

[_To_ DENISE.]

How long since you have heard from Jean Litais?

DENISE.

Not since he, my lover, went to Paris to aid the Duc de Beaumont to escape.

LA ROCHE.

This fiendish reign of terror has prevented me from hearing of the Duke till now.

DENISE.

And you have heard--?

LA ROCHE.

The worst of news! Among some papers captured in a skirmish, I found this journal, [_Producing paper_.] printed at Paris some three months ago. It contains a list of those beheaded the preceding day.--See this name I've underlined.

DENISE.

[_Reading_.]

"The Duc de Beaumont."

_Enter a MAN from panel in wall up stage_.

LA ROCHE.

Guillotined at night, upon the tenth of last October.

DENISE.

My God! If Jean has failed to save the Duke, he must be dead himself!

THE MAN.

[_Advancing_.]

Not yet!

LA ROCHE.

[_Turning quickly_.]

Who's this?

DENISE.

It's Jean!--

[_Rushing into his arms_.]

My Jean returned!

LA ROCHE.

Litais!--Is it really you?

JEAN.

Every bit of me, my lord.

DENISE.

Thank heaven!

LA ROCHE.

How did you pass the guard?

JEAN.

Faith, I know every corner of the old chateau. No guard could bar my way while I'd such news to bring! The Duke and his daughter are here--in the park.

LA ROCHE.

Alive and safe--?

JEAN.

As you are!--Grant me a guard to bring them through our lines.

LA ROCHE.

[_Strikes a bell_.]

[_Enter_ ORDERLY, _who salutes_.]

See that Monsieur and his friends have safe passage through our lines.

ORDERLY _crosses stage and stands at door_.

JEAN.

In an instant we'll return.--Come, Denise; you shall see your old master once again.

DENISE.

And never let you leave my side while I have life to love you.

[_Exeunt_ DENISE, JEAN _and_ ORDERLY, _who salutes_ GUARD _before departing. Tumult in distance_.]

LA HOGUE.

[_Entering_.]

The Count is here and anxious for the fight.

[LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN, _listening, pays no attention_. LA HOGUE _speaks impatiently_.]

Do you hear?

LA ROCHE.

Yes, I hear a tumult yonder! Can it be mutiny--revolt?

[_Enter_ SECOND ORDERLY. _He presents paper to_ LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN, _who reads it aloud_.]

"Have captured Jacobin soldiers. The peasants demand their lives. Shall I surrender them or hold them at your pleasure? La Val--Captain of King's Guards."

[_To_ LA HOGUE _eagerly_.]

We may obtain information from these fellows. See La Val at once, command him to guard his prisoners with his life, and send them here to me.

LA HOGUE.

But the Count is awaiting orders for to-night's attack.

LA ROCHE.

[_Going_.]

While you see La Val, I'll see the Count.

[_Exit_.

LA HOGUE.

[_To_ ORDERLY.]

To Captain La Val!

[_Exit quickly with_ ORDERLY.

SENTINEL.

[_Outside_.]

Who goes there?

JEAN.

[_Outside_.]

A friend!

SENTINEL.

[_Outside_.]

Advance with countersign.

ORDERLY _advances, salutes the_ SENTINEL, _whispers in his ear, then steps back against balustrade of terrace as characters enter.--When characters are on,_ ORDERLY _salutes_ SENTINEL, _who returns salute_. ORDERLY _goes out_. SENTINEL _about faces and disappears_.

_Enter_ JEAN, DENISE, GOUROC, NANETTE, DUKE, AND DIANE.

JEAN.

[_To the_ DUKE.]

You're safe at last, Monsieur, among your friends.

DIANE.

[_Grasping_ JEAN'S _hand_.]

Thanks to your devotion.

DENISE.

[_To the_ DUKE.]

I will announce your coming to the General.

[_Exit_.

NANETTE.

[_To_ DIANE.]

Here, child, be seated, and taste comfort once again.

[DIANE _sits near the fire; the_ DUKE _and_ GOUROC _at table_.]

Now try to smile a bit.

DIANE.

I have forgotten how.

[_Calling_.]

Jean!

JEAN.

[_Crossing to_ DIANE.]

Yes, Madame?

DIANE.

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.

I rejoice that the man's disguise was not discovered--for the report of your father's death prevented our pursuit.

DUKE.

[_Joyfully to_ GOUROC.]

You remember the Abbé de St. Simon?

GOUROC.

Yes. He was condemned to die with you.

DUKE.

This journal says that he escaped from the death-cart as it rumbled to the scaffold through the crowd.

GOUROC.

[_Starting, and with great emphasis_.]

Impossible!

DUKE.

[_Holding out the paper_.]

See for yourself!

[GOUROC _takes paper eagerly_.

LA ROCHE.

[_Entering, with a cry of joy_.]

Duke!

DUKE.

[_Holding out his arms_.]

Henri!

LA ROCHE.

[_Embracing the_ DUKE.]

In days of misery, a moment such as this is sweet indeed. But how did you escape? I saw your name among the guillotined.

DUKE.

[_Turning to_ GOUROC.]

This gentleman wrought a way for our deliverance!--Monsieur le Marquis de Vaux.

LA ROCHE.

[_Grasping_ GOUROC'S _hand_.]

Monsieur--the King's friends are all your debtors.

GOUROC.

Nay, sir, the debt is mine. Tis a privilege to save such precious lives.

DUKE.

[_Presenting_ DIANE.]

Here's a lass you played with, years ago.

LA ROCHE.

What!--My little cousin--grown so stately and so sad! Mademoiselle, I claim a kinsman's right to kiss away these shadows.

DIANE.

And I yield the right with pleasure, cousin Henri.

LA ROCHE.

[_Kisses her_.]

Good cheer, sweet cousin! You are now protected by the soldiers of the King, who--God willing--will punish those who brought this shadow to your face.

GOUROC.

That may not prove an easy task! Granville is overrun with rebels, who are urged to most atrocious crimes by Carrac.

LA ROCHE.

Yes--Thomas Carrac--a brutal monster, reeking with loyal blood; a loathsome anarchist, who glories in the vilest deeds.

GOUROC.

Ravishing without remorse the daughters of our race.

LA ROCHE.

If we could capture wretches such as he, it might end our civil war.

DIANE.

Is he so hard to take?

LA ROCHE.

Yes. Reptiles are worse to overcome than lions. They bite unseen, and escape by crawling. This Carrac is brave in words, but too craven to face fighting in the field. Our soldiers rarely reach these civil sinners.

DUKE.

Let us forget them here. For now we will task your hospitality for a time.

LA ROCHE.

I swear I have not felt the poverty that war entails till now. My old chateau has been dismantled--this hall alone is habitable. I feel ashamed to offer you such shabby quarters.

DUKE.

Nay, cousin, a bed of stones with friends is better than a bed of down with those we do not love.

DENISE.

[_Entering, speaks to_ LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN.]

A couch and fire are ready in the room that was your mother's.

LA ROCHE.

[_To_ DIANE.]

Where doubtless you'll be glad to take some rest.

DIANE.

I confess the need, Monsieur.

LA ROCHE.

Denise, show the way.

[DENISE _crosses to the door_.

DIANE.

[_At the door_.]

Till to-night, kind friends.

LA ROCHE.

Till then, good rest.

[DIANE _courtesies and goes out with_ NANETTE.]

Gentlemen, I pray you, make yourselves at home; important business claims my time.--I'll rejoin you within an hour.

DUKE.

We're here to help, not mar the cause; command us in all ways.

LA ROCHE.

Presently!--Till then the poor old house is yours.

[_Exit_.

[_Exit_ JEAN.

DUKE.

[_Sitting near the fire_.]

At last, praise God! We're out of reach of traitors!

GOUROC.

Not yet!--The rebel hosts have gathered here at Granville in great force. They may rout the royal army, and capture all of us.

DUKE.

No, not all, for I shall die first, fighting in the ranks.

GOUROC.

But Diane, your daughter--?

DUKE.

Must take the chances of a soldier's child.

GOUROC.

You forget her peril from this scoundrel, Carrac.--Why not put her safely out of the reach of such a brute?

DUKE.

How?

GOUROC.

There are vessels here by which we can escape to England.

DUKE.

I fly no further. I owe the King and country service here.

GOUROC.

Then let Diane go with me to friends in London. When I've found for her safe asylum, I'll return to do my duty at your side.

DUKE.

The daughter of a peer of France could hardly go so far without protection worthy of her rank.

GOUROC.

That she can secure as a Marquise, and my wife.

[_The_ DUKE _turns quickly in surprise_.]

I know, dear Duke, that you are richer, nobler than myself, but then the love I bear your daughter, together with the dangers that surround her life and honour here--

DUKE.

Say no more!--There's nothing that would ease my mind so much as to see Diane your wife.

GOUROC.

Then plead my cause with her.

DUKE.

I'll more than plead.--Her perils urge me to command this marriage.

GOUROC.

Then do not lose a moment; the attack begins to-night. Before our army strikes, she and I, as man and wife, should sail for England.

NANETTE.

[_Entering_.]

Monsieur, your daughter desires a word with you--[_Glancing at_ GOUROC.] alone.

DUKE.

Say I'll see her here at once.

[_Exit_ NANETTE.]

I'll broach this marriage to my child without delay.

GOUROC.

[_Going_.]

I'll be at hand in case you call me.

[_Exit_.

DUKE.

[_Alone_.]

This alliance secures Diane from peril. The Marquis is young, noble,--has saved her life, and has a claim on it. She must marry while there's time to get away.

[_Enter_ DIANE.]

Now, dear child, what is it?

DIANE.

Father, I loathe this useless life of mine! I long for action--danger--anything that stirs the blood, and brings oblivion.

DUKE.

Oblivion!--Nay, Diane, I have something happier to suggest than that. Time and circumstance commend to you a marriage. We owe our lives to the wisdom of a man who seeks your hand to-day.

DIANE.

The Marquis?--[_After a pause_.] I cannot marry, for I do not love him.

DUKE.

Then 'tis time you did.

DIANE.

No more, I beg of you.--It is impossible!

DUKE.

Impossible! When prompted by the wisdom of a father's love? When your escape from peril and my peace of mind demand it?

DIANE.

I cannot argue.

DUKE.

Then at least explain.

DIANE.

Alas, I dare not.

DUKE.

You fear mere frankness with your truest friend?

[DIANE _sinks into a chair and hides her face. The_ DUKE _looks at her with suspicion_.]

By heaven! You hide your face as though to speak implied dishonour.

DIANE.

No, no! It is not that!

DUKE.

Then why torture me with this concealment? Have I been cruel, or faithless as a father?

DIANE.

Never!

DUKE.

Then I claim a father's sacred right to confidence. Give me one good reason why you refuse the man to whom we owe our lives?

DIANE.

I love another.

DUKE.

[_Starting_.]

Another!

[_After a pause_.]

His name--?

DIANE.

What matter, since we shall never meet again?

DUKE.

I understand at last!--'Tis Paul Kauvar!

[DIANE _bows her head_.]

So! The saviour of your father's life is scorned for his betrayer! No wonder that you blush to own it! This makes my course more clear. The safest cure for this disgraceful love will be your marriage.

DIANE.

That cannot be!

DUKE.

[_Going_.]

I say it shall!

DIANE.

[_Startled_.]

Where are you going?

DUKE.

To seek the priest! Delay is dangerous! You wed to-day and sail to-night for England.

DIANE.

No, no! Have pity! I have no right to marry.

DUKE.

[_In horror_.]

No right?

DIANE.

[_Falling at his feet_.]

I am a wife already.

DUKE.

His wife?--You, my flesh and blood, a traitor's wife!--Oh God! What have I done to merit such a blow as this?

DIANE.

Father,--forgive! Hear me!

DUKE.

[_Flinging her off, rushes to the door_.]

Henri, Marquis--here! All of you!

[_Enter_ LA HOGUE, LA ROCHEJACQUELEIN, GOUROC, JEAN _and_ DENISE.]

[_To_ LA ROCHE.]

Call your guards! Drag this woman away! Fling her to these rebel dogs--for she is one of them!

GOUROC.

What has she done?

DUKE.

Deceived a father's love! Become the mate of my betrayer.

[_Turning on_ DIANE.]

Degraded remnant of my race!--Go! Back to your own, wife of a Sans Culotte!

GOUROC.

[_Stepping between them_.]

Stay! There must be some mistake!

DUKE.

No! She has confessed that she's the wife of Paul Kauvar.

GOUROC.

That cannot be, for Paul Kauvar is dead.

DUKE.

Dead? How do you know that?

GOUROC.

Because he, disguised, took your place on the guillotine.

DIANE.

[_Rising_.]

My God!

DUKE.

What! I owe my life to him?

GOUROC.

He died to atone his treachery to you.

DIANE.

Traitors do not die to save their victims! His life was noble! His death sublime!

[_To the_ DUKE.]

You have foully wronged the man who bravely met a martyr's death for you!--have scorned and spurned me from your side, because I was his wife. You have disowned me--I now disown you!

[_Turning, she goes swiftly up the steps to the terrace_.

LA ROCHE.

Where are you going?

DIANE.

Back to the Sans Culottes!

DUKE.

Diane!--Daughter!

DIANE.

No! Not your daughter--but his wife! No longer Diane de Beaumont--but, thank God,--Diane Kauvar!

CURTAIN.