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Updated: June 22, 2025
"But I have still another right," continued Maurice. "My father yesterday had the honor of asking of Monsieur Lacheneur the hand of his daughter " "And I refused it!" cried a terrible voice. Marie-Anne and both young men turned with the same movement of alarm and surprise. M. Lacheneur stood before them, and by his side was Chanlouineau, who surveyed the group with threatening eyes.
Lacheneur straightened himself up, and seemed to be gathering all his energy for the decisive moment. "Remain inside," he said, imperiously, to Antoine and his wife. "I am going out; they must not arrest me in your house." As he spoke, he stepped outside the door, with a firm tread, a dauntless brow, a calm and assured mien. The soldiers were but a few feet from him.
Maurice seized it and read: "Yesterday, Lacheneur, the leader of the revolt in Montaignac, was executed. The miserable mischief-maker exhibited upon the scaffold the audacity for which he has always been famous." "My father has been put to death!" cried Marie-Anne, "and I his daughter was not there to receive his last farewell!"
"Ah! there was a fatality about it! Just as we were perfecting our arrangements to capture the Duc de Sairmeuse, the duke surprised us. We fled, but the cursed noble pursued us, overtook Carini, seized him by the collar, and dragged him to the citadel." Lacheneur was overwhelmed; the abbe's gloomy prophecy again resounded in his ears.
Having said this, he closed the door and turned to M. d'Escorval. The baron, still standing with folded arms, had witnessed this scene with the air of a man who distrusts the evidence of his own senses; and yet he understood the meaning of it only too well. "So this young man comes here?" he said to Lacheneur. "Almost every day not at this hour, usually, but a trifle later."
The courage and heroism displayed by the marquise were really wonderful. She felt if she yielded once, she would forever be at the mercy of this wretch, as she was already at the mercy of Aunt Medea. "In other words," said she, calmly, "you accuse me of the murder of Mademoiselle Lacheneur; and you threaten to denounce me if I do not yield to your demands." Chupin nodded his head in acquiescence.
"You have no business to return here against my wishes, and after what I have said to you, Monsieur d'Escorval," said Lacheneur, rudely. Maurice smiled, he was perfectly cool, and not a detail of the scene before him had escaped his notice. If he had felt any doubts before, they were now dissipated.
This poor M. de Courtornieu had been so entirely crushed by Martial's revelation that he no longer made any effort to oppose him. "And this terrible letter?" he groaned. "Marie-Anne Lacheneur gave it to Abbe Midon, who came to me and said: 'Either the baron will escape, or this letter will be taken to the Duc de Richelieu. I voted for the baron's escape, I assure you.
For twenty seconds after Martial disappeared with Jean Lacheneur, the guests stood as motionless as statues, pale, mute, stupefied. It was Blanche who broke the spell. While the Marquis de Courtornieu was panting for breath while the Duc de Sairmeuse was trembling and speechless with suppressed anger, the young marquise made an heroic attempt to come to the rescue.
But nothing could move Jean Lacheneur, or divert him from his purpose. He uttered a hoarse, discordant laugh, then striking his gun heavily with his hand, he exclaimed: "Here is justice!" Appalled and distressed beyond measure, Marie-Anne sank into a chair.
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