In Lyon, the state prosecutor entered the Marquis’s cell.
‘I am afraid your appeal has failed. You will be executed tomorrow. I am truly sorry. I did what I could, but there are reports that some French nobles seek to return to France with a royalist army to contest the revolution and to restore the monarchy. They fear that you will join them if you were to be released. They fear what a man of your eloquence could do for the royalist cause.’
‘I knew that my chances were never going to be good. However, I thank you for all you have done and have attempted to do,’ the Marquis said dejectedly.
‘Do not thank me. I feel guilty enough about what has happened. I have brought along a newspaper or two for you to read to keep your mind away from tomorrow as best as one can. I will ensure that you are provided with a lamp and a little oil.’
The prosecutor departed, leaving the Marquis to consider how ironical it was that the same eloquence which had saved now operated to hasten his execution. He turned to the newspapers for much needed distraction. He had had little outside news since his arrest. The news of how Montuga had successfully managed to outwit his nemeses, Du Pont, provided him with considerable amusement. At least his son would be safe in Montuga for a while longer. How he longed for news of his son. Despite intermittent interruptions by the thoughts of his looming execution, the Marquis continued reading. He was surprised to read an article about the recent negotiations which had apparently taken place in Geneva a week and a half ago. As he read the last two sentences of the article he blinked. He read it again and again in disbelief. One of the Montugan government’s conditions for the release of the French prisoners was of direct concern to him.