Yvon. Ah! he's gone at last. I shan't be long in following him; I don't like this place.
[Exit, locking door after him.
[Night comes on, the moon lighting the scene beyond. Marguerite comes down from tower, aided by Manuel.
Mar. There comes the night, in good earnest; fortunately, the moon will help us to regain our horses. Come, sir, let us hasten.
[Low music from orchestra. Manuel tries to open door.
Man. That stupid fellow has fastened it while we were upon the tower.
Mar. [Anxiously.] Call to him, he cannot be far off.
Man. [Upon platform.] Hallo! Come back, will you? Now he sees me, but he only runs the faster—takes me for the white lady, I suppose. Confound the fool!
Mar. [Looking about.] No other means of egress! What is to be done?—they will die with anxiety at home.
Man. Stay! I can descend by those trees, perhaps—