[A sombre room in an old Château. A door on the right, a door on the left, and a small concealed door in a corner. At the back, stained-glass windows, in which green is the dominant color, and a glass door giving on to a terrace. A big Dutch clock in one corner. A lighted lamp.]
The Three Daughters. Come here, grandfather. Sit down under the lamp.
The Grandfather. There does not seem to me to be much light here.
The Father. Shall we go out on the terrace, or stay in this room?
The Uncle. Would it not be better to stay here? It has rained the whole week, and the nights are damp and cold.
The Eldest Daughter. But the stars are shining.
The Uncle. Oh the stars—that's nothing.
The Grandfather. We had better stay here. One never knows what may happen.
The Father. There is no longer any cause for anxiety. The danger is over, and she is saved....
The Grandfather. I believe she is not doing so well....