"What lovely cherries!" exclaimed Clarisse.
Madame de Narbonne stopped to offer her some, but Clarisse declined, and when pressed, said—
"Not for me, thanks; but my niece will perhaps taste them."
When Thérèse also asked to be excused, Olivier intervened.
"Only taste," he said, and as she still declined, "Will you allow me, mademoiselle?" he asked, taking a bunch from the basket which the child now carried. And he held one of the cherries up to his fiancée's lips. "Won't you take one to please me?"
Clarisse could not help smiling. Olivier saw the smile. "And you, also, mamma!" he said.
Clarisse allowed herself to be persuaded, looking gratefully at the kind prisoner to whose good nature that little family scene was due, and Olivier was beginning to renew his playful persuasions to Thérèse, when a bell sounded from behind the big grating, tolling slowly.
Madame de Narbonne turned pale.
"The call!" she gasped.
All conversation now ceased; men and women fell into groups, or left each other abruptly, looking anxiously towards the iron gate, as if expecting some one to appear. Olivier felt the universal shudder of dread, and his fears were again awakened.