La Mole opened his eyes.
"Oh! mon Dieu!" murmured he; "where am I?"
"Saved!" said Marguerite. "Reassure yourself—you are saved."
La Mole turned his eyes on the queen, gazed earnestly for a moment, and murmured,
"Oh, how beautiful you are!"
Then as if the vision were too much for him, he closed his lids and drew a sigh.
Marguerite started. He had become still paler than before, if that were possible, and for an instant that sigh was his last.
"Oh, my God! my God!" she ejaculated, "have pity on him!"
At this moment a violent knocking was heard at the door. Marguerite half raised herself, still supporting La Mole.
"Who is there?" she cried.