Page:The Iron Hand by Hall Caine.djvu/6

 break down.

—And equally naturally you have been hoping and praying for the time when you can be together again in this charming chateau?

(her eyes shining)—I dream of it every night, sir.

—Madame Lambette, your dream may come to pass now if you can induce your husband to give up one word to us.

—What word, sir?

—His password.

(Victor is holding his breath and listening.)

—But he can't do that, sir. No soldier ever can.

(relieved)—Ah!

—You must succeed in persuading him, madame, or else—— (he hesitates).

(breaking in hotly)—Or else you'll be shot.

(catching her breath)—Shot?

—Yes, shot as Private Jonniaux is to be shot—because I refuse to be false to my King and country.

(with a frightened cry) —Victor!

(contemptuously to Captain) —My wife won't do it—take that for your answer.

—Let the lady answer for herself, please.

—Let her—I'm willing.

—Madame, I have no desire to injure you—none whatever. On the contrary, it won't be my fault if you cannot live here In your beautiful home with your brave young husband. But (firmly) I must have that password. (Victor laughs bitterly, triumphantly. Nadine creeps up to him).

(in a low, nervous voice) —Victor, would It be so very wrong?

—Nadine!

—After all, no harm may be done by it.

—Harm! Don't you see? If they can get the password they can get through the Belgian lines. Then our army may be destroyed—our country wiped out—there may be no more Belgium.

—But the man who receives the password may never be able to use it. He may even be detected. A German is a German, a Belgian a Belgian—the Belgian soldiers at the outpost will not be deceived.

—Hold your tongue, Nadine. You are breaking my heart.

(beginning to cry)—It's terrible! So young, too—and after all my dreams of love and happiness.

—Say no more, Nadine.

—I'm only a weak little thing—not strong and brave like you, Victor.

—Nadine! Nadine! You'll drive me mad.

—Surely you will not see me die while a word from you can save me?

—(in a loud voice, to Captain) —Here—you are asking me to choose between my wife and my country, aren't you?

(with the same deadly calm)—Choose, then.

—But how can I? I can't! I would rather die at once. It must come to that in the end if I continue to refuse. So shoot me now and let's have done with it.

—Not yet—not while the lady is alive to persuade you.

—I won't listen to her. You've driven her crazy.

—(creeping closer, pleadingly, in a whisper) —Victor, there's something you don't know. It's not my life only that is in question. There's a child—an unborn child.

—My God! My God!

—If they take my life, and yours after it, your old family will come to an end. You will be the last of your name—the last of your line—there will be no more Lambottes. Victor, for the sake of our love, our youth, our unborn babe, you'll save me, will you not?

(Victor is silent for a moment, suffering visibly).

—Well, will you give the password now?

(after a great struggle) —No, no no! My family may end, my ancient name may be wiped out my line may stop, but liberty must go on and—Belgium!

(to the guard)—Remove the lady to the room below.

(throwing herself into Victor's arms in a frenzy of terror)—No, no! Have mercy on me, Victor! Victor! Victor! Save me! Save me!

(The guard tear her out of Victor’s arms and drag her down stairs).

(covering his ears to shut out her cries)—Oh, God! Oh, God!

(rising and crossing the room to