"Yes, mine and that of my mother-in-law, whose religious feelings are opposed to divorce. The Comtesse d'Origny would only yield in case …"
"In case …?"
"In case they could prove me guilty of shameful conduct."
Velmont shrugged his shoulders:
"Therefore he is powerless to do anything against you or against your son. Both from the legal point of view and from that of his own interests, he stumbles against an obstacle which is the most insurmountable of all: the virtue of an honest woman. And yet, in spite of everything, he suddenly shows fight."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that, if a man like the count, after so many hesitations and in the face of so many difficulties, risks so doubtful an adventure, it must be because he thinks he has command of weapons …"
"What weapons?"
"I don't know. But they exist … or else he would not have begun by taking away your son."
Yvonne gave way to her despair:
"Oh, this is horrible!.. How do I know what he may have done, what he may have invented?"
"Try and think… Recall your memories… Tell me, in this desk which he has broken open, was there any sort of letter which he could possibly turn against you?"
"No … only bills and addresses…"
"And, in the words he used to you, in his threats, is there nothing that allows you to guess?"
"Nothing."
"Still … still," Velmont insisted, "there must be something." And he continued, "Has the count a particularly intimate friend … in whom he confides?"
"No."
"Did anybody come to see him yesterday?"
"No, nobody."
"Was he alone when he bound you and locked you in?"
"At that moment, yes."
"But afterward?"
"His man, Bernard, joined him near the door and I heard them talking about a working jeweller…"
"Is that all?"
"And about something that was to happen the next day, that is, to-day, at twelve o'clock, because the Comtesse d'Origny could not come earlier."
Velmont reflected:
"Has that conversation any meaning that throws a light upon your husband's plans?"
"I don't see any."
"Where are your jewels?"
"My husband has sold them all."
"You have nothing at all left?"
"No."
"Not even a ring?"
"No," she said, showing her hands, "none except this."
"Which is your wedding-ring?"
"Which is my … wedding – …"
She stopped, nonplussed. Velmont saw her flush as she stammered:
"Could it be possible?.. But no … no … he doesn't know…"
Velmont at once pressed her with questions and Yvonne stood silent, motionless, anxious-faced. At last, she replied, in a low voice:
"This is not my wedding-ring. One day, long ago, it dropped from the mantelpiece in my bedroom, where I had put it a minute before and, hunt for it as I might, I could not find it again. So I ordered another, without saying anything about it … and this is the one, on my hand…"
"Did the real ring bear the date of your wedding?"
"Yes … the 23rd of October."
"And the second?"
"This one has no date."
He perceived a slight hesitation in her and a confusion which, in point of fact, she did not try to conceal.
"I implore you," he exclaimed, "don't hide anything from me… You see how far we have gone in a few minutes, with a little logic and calmness… Let us go on, I ask you as a favour."
"Are you sure," she said, "that it is necessary?"
"I am sure that the least detail is of importance and that we are nearly attaining our object. But we must hurry. This is a crucial moment."
"I have nothing to conceal," she said, proudly raising her head. "It was the most wretched and the most dangerous period of my life. While suffering humiliation at home, outside I was surrounded with attentions, with temptations, with pitfalls, like any woman who is seen to be neglected by her husband. Then I remembered: before my marriage, a man had been in love with me. I had guessed his unspoken love; and he has died since. I had the name of that man engraved inside the ring; and I wore it as a talisman. There was no love in me, because I was the wife of another. But, in my secret heart, there was a memory, a sad dream, something sweet and gentle that protected me…"
She had spoken slowly, without embarrassment, and Velmont did not doubt for a second that she was telling the absolute truth. He kept silent; and she, becoming anxious again, asked:
"Do you suppose … that my husband …?"
He took her hand and, while examining the plain gold ring, said:
"The puzzle lies here. Your husband, I don't know how, knows of the substitution of one ring for the other. His mother will be here at twelve o'clock. In the presence of witnesses, he will compel you to take off your ring; and, in this way, he will obtain the approval of his mother and, at the same time, will be able to obtain his divorce, because he will have the proof for which he was seeking."
"I am lost!" she moaned. "I am lost!"
"On the contrary, you are saved! Give me that ring … and presently he will find another there, another which I will send you, to reach you before twelve, and which will bear the date of the 23rd of October. So…"
He suddenly broke off. While he was speaking, Yvonne's hand had turned ice-cold in his; and, raising his eyes, he saw that the young woman was pale, terribly pale:
"What's the matter? I beseech you …"
She yielded to a fit of mad despair:
"This is the matter, that I am lost!.. This is the matter, that I can't get the ring off! It has grown too small for me!.. Do you understand?.. It made no difference and I did not give it a thought… But to-day … this proof … this accusation… Oh, what torture!.. Look … it forms part of my finger … it has grown into my flesh … and I can't … I can't…"
She pulled at the ring, vainly, with all her might, at the risk of injuring herself. But the flesh swelled up around the ring; and the ring did not budge.
"Oh!" she cried, seized with an idea that terrified her. "I remember … the other night … a nightmare I had… It seemed to me that some one entered my room and caught hold of my hand… And I could not wake up… It was he! It was he! He had put me to sleep, I was sure of it … and he was looking at the ring… And presently he will pull it off before his mother's eyes… Ah, I understand everything: that working jeweller!.. He will cut it from my hand to-morrow… You see, you see… I am lost!.."
She hid her face in her hands and began to weep. But, amid the silence, the clock struck once … and twice … and yet once more. And Yvonne drew herself up with a jerk:
"There he is!" she cried. "He is coming!.. It is three o'clock!.. Let us go!.."
She grabbed at her cloak and ran to the door … Velmont barred the way and, in a masterful tone:
"You shall not go!"
"My son… I want to see him, to take him back…"
"You don't even know where he is!"
"I want to go."
"You shall not go!.. It would be madness…"
He took her by the wrists. She