DENISE.
And you have heard--?
LA ROCHE.
The worst of news! Among some papers captured in a skirmish, I found
this journal, [_Producing paper_.] printed at Paris some three months
ago. It contains a list of those beheaded the preceding day.--See this
name I've underlined.
DENISE.
[_Reading_.]
"The Duc de Beaumont."
_Enter a MAN from panel in wall up stage_.
LA ROCHE.
Guillotined at night, upon the tenth of last October.
DENISE.
My God! If Jean has failed to save the Duke, he must be dead himself!
THE MAN.
[_Advancing_.]
Not yet!
LA ROCHE.
[_Turning quickly_.]
Who's this?
DENISE.
It's Jean!--
[_Rushing into his arms_.]
My Jean returned!
LA ROCHE.
Litais!--Is it really you?
JEAN.
Every bit of me, my lord.
DENISE.
Thank heaven!
LA ROCHE.
How did you pass the guard?
JEAN.
Faith, I know every corner of the old chateau. No guard could bar
my way while I'd such news to bring! The Duke and his daughter are
here--in the park.
LA ROCHE.
Alive and safe--?
JEAN.
As you are!--Grant me a guard to bring them through our lines.
LA ROCHE.
[_Strikes a bell_.
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