[Starting.]

My God!—­We’re lost!

CARRAC.

So—­the prisoner is the beauty’s cousin.

[To GOUROC.]

Traitor!  You have lied!—­This convicts you all.

MOB.

To the guillotine!—­To the guillotine!

BOURDOTTE.

No!  A marriage!  A Republican marriage!

MOB.

Aye!  A marriage! marriage!

[BOURDOTTE drags forth NANETTE.

NANETTE.

What are you going to do?

BOURDOTTE.

Tie you to this man and throw you in the river.—­That’s the way we marry Royalists!

[The MOB laugh mockingly.

NANETTE.

[Shrieking.]

Help!

POTIN.

[Exploding.]

Damnation!—­Tongue or no tongue, I must save her.

[Bounds forward and frees his wife.]

Nanette!

NANETTE.

[Joyfully embracing POTIN.]

Dodolphe!

CARRAC.

What does this mean?

POTIN.

This is my wife; the wife of a soldier of the Republic, and so, sacred to her country.

SOLDIERS.

Aye!  Aye!

POTIN.

[Pointing to GOUROC.]

Do what you like with him—­for such cattle as he deserve to die!

[GOUROC turns and glowers.]

Glare!  Who cares?  I’m a soldier.  ’Tis my turn now!—­You shall pay dearly for making me a perjurer!

[To MOB.]

Citizens, this devil here forced me to swear falsely against a patriot.

BOURDOTTE.

When was this?

POTIN.

Three months ago in Paris.—­I was secretary to my Section.—­This man had a blank warrant signed by our president, Paul Kauvar.—­He made me fill it in with the name of the Duc de Beaumont—­and, after, falsely swear that Kauvar had ordered the arrest.

[Cries of execration from the MOB.

DIANE.

Father!  You hear?  It is to him that we owe our agony!—­One of your own race.

POTIN.