Here the mother redoubled her desperate appeals.
"Fire! Help! Make haste, or kill me at once! My children! My children! Oh, that terrible fire! Throw me into the fire, but save their lives!"
In the intervals between her cries could be heard the constant crackling of the flames.
The Marquis felt in his pocket and his hand met the key to the iron door. Then stooping below the arch, through which he had just escaped, he re-entered the passage from which he had so lately emerged.
[II.]
FROM THE DOOR OF STONE TO THAT OF IRON.
A whole army driven half wild by its enforced inaction in the presence of danger; four thousand men unable to save three children,—such was the situation.