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"Yes," declared Prasville, forcibly.
"So that I can have your answer within an hour after I have told you my conditions?"
"Yes."
"Will the answer be that of the government?"
"Yes."
Clarisse bent forward and, sinking her voice:
"Will the answer be that of the Elysee?"
Prasville appeared surprised. He reflected for a moment and then said:
"Yes."
"It only remains for me to ask you to give me your word of honour that, however incomprehensible my conditions may appear to you, you will not insist on my revealing the reason. They are what they are. Your answer must be yes or no."
"I give you my word of honour," said Prasville, formally.
Clarisse underwent a momentary agitation that made her turn paler still.
Then, mastering herself, with her eyes fixed on Prasville's eyes, she said:
"You shall have the list of the Twenty-seven in exchange for the pardon of Gilbert and Vaucheray."
"Eh? What?"
Prasville leapt from his chair, looking absolutely dumbfounded:
"The pardon of Gilbert and Vaucheray? Of a.r.s.ene Lupin's accomplices?"
"Yes," she said.
"The murderers of the Villa Marie-Therese? The two who are due to die to-morrow?"
"Yes, those two," she said, in a loud voice. "I ask? I demand their pardon."
"But this is madness! Why? Why should you?"
"I must remind you, Prasville, that you gave me your word..."
"Yes... yes... I know... But the thing is so unexpected..."
"Why?"
"Why? For all sorts of reasons!"
"What reasons?"
"Well... well, but... think! Gilbert and Vaucheray have been sentenced to death!"
"Send them to penal servitude: that's all you have to do."
"Impossible! The case has created an enormous sensation. They are a.r.s.ene Lupin's accomplices. The whole world knows about the verdict."
"Well?"
"Well, we cannot, no, we cannot go against the decrees of justice."
"You are not asked to do that. You are asked for a commutation of punishment as an act of mercy. Mercy is a legal thing."
"The pardoning-commission has given its finding..."
"True, but there remains the president of the Republic."
"He has refused."
"He can reconsider his refusal."
"Impossible!"
"Why?"
"There's no excuse for it."
"He needs no excuse. The right of mercy is absolute. It is exercised without control, without reason, without excuse or explanation. It is a royal prerogative; the president of the Republic can wield it according to his good pleasure, or rather according to his conscience, in the best interests of the State."
"But it is too late! Everything is ready. The execution is to take place in a few hours."
"One hour is long enough to obtain your answer; you have just told us so."
"But this is confounded madness! There are insuperable obstacles to your conditions. I tell you again, it's impossible, physically impossible."
"Then the answer is no?"
"No! No! A thousand times no!"
"In that case, there is nothing left for us to do but to go."
She moved toward the door. M. Nicole followed her. Prasville bounded across the room and barred their way:
"Where are you going?"
"Well, my friend, it seems to me that our conversation is at an end. As you appear to think, as, in fact, you are certain that the president of the Republic will not consider the famous list of the Twenty-seven to be worth..."
"Stay where you are," said Prasville.
He turned the key in the door and began to pace the room, with his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed on the floor.