"
"When I left the tribunal and entered this room," Lomaque began
in a whisper, "there was no thought in my mind that could be
turned to good account, either for your sister or for you. I was
fit for nothing but to deplore the failure of the confession
which I came to St. Lazare to suggest to you as your best plan
of defense. Since then, an idea has struck me, which may be
useful--an idea so desperate, so uncertain--involving a proposal
so absolutely dependent, as to its successful execution, on the
merest chance, that I refuse to confide it to you except on one
condition."
"Mention the condition! I submit to it before hand."
"Give me your word of honor that you will not mention what I am
about to say to your sister until I grant you permission to
speak. Promise me that when you see her shrinking before the
terrors of death to-night, you will have self-restraint enough to
abstain from breathing a word of hope to her. I ask this, because
there are ten--twenty--fifty chances to one that there _is_ no
hope."
"I have no choice but to promise," answered Trudaine.
Lomaque produced his pocket-book and pencil before he spoke
again.
"I will enter into particulars as soon as I have asked a strange
question of you," he said. "You have been a great experimenter in
chemistry in your time--is your mind calm enough, at such a
trying moment as this, to answer a question which is connected
with chemistry in a very humble way? You seem astonished.
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