It is a voice that calls us, just the same.
SAVERNY.
Another hour!
[He leans his elbows on the stone table and drops his head on his hands. The Guard is changed.
DIDIER.
My friend, do not give way!
Don't falter on this threshold we must cross.
The tomb they're fitting up for us is low,
And won't permit the entrance of a head.
Let's go to meet them with a fearless tread.
The scaffold can afford to shake, not we.
They claim our heads; and since no fault is ours,
We'll bear them proudly to the fatal block.
[Approaches Saverny, who is motionless.
[Touches his arm and finds he is asleep.
[It is night. While Didier has become absorbed in his thoughts, Marion and The Jailer enter through the opening in the wall; The Jailer precedes her. He carries a dark-lantern and a bundle, both of which he places on the ground, then advances cautiously toward Marion, who has remained standing on the threshold, pale, motionless, half-wild.