The superb horses would charge against a stone wall if bade to! They charge against the living wall of foot soldiers; kicking, pounding, trampling in the narrow space, while the riders strike. Some footmen perish under the hoofs. Others save themselves by leaping, scrambling out over the side parapets. The attack becomes a rout. Hip-hip-hurrah! The lone rider on the guillotine side has succeeded in unloosing the bar. The gates fly open. Danton's cavalry dash madly down the straight and unobstructed road that leads to the Place de la Execution, still a few furlongs distant! Can they even yet save her? For now it would appear as if the supremely tragical moment might anticipate them--by seconds! During the final furlongs--the executioner now in readiness--Henriette looks up with gaping mouth at the awful knife edge. A terrible cry escapes her. Wracked with agony, she gazes about at the sea of hostile faces--not one stray iota of sympathy in that Dark Hour. Missing is de Vaudrey, missing the loved blind sister! As the down-dropping gesture of Death is again begun by the grim master of ceremonial, Henriette with a low cry of "Louise!" shuts eyes and drops head to receive the stroke! But the clatter of myriad hoofbeats assails the Master's ears; the hoarse cries of Danton's riders, and the astonished roars of the populace. His hand falters. He turns to look at the tumult. The executioner takes his hand off the rope. The cavalrymen are dashing down the roadway, from which quick clearance has been made by the sansculotte guards and the loaferish spectators. At their head gallops Danton, the Thunderer of old, thundering at the officials, waving in his free hand a State paper! In front of the death machine he halts and dismounts--then taking the steps in two bounds, puts the reprieve of Henriette and Maurice in the hands of the master of ceremonial! The Savior of France--the Organizer of Victory--brings such a show of power at his back and compels such respect that none dare question him. He strides to the guillotine, bades the trembling executioner release Henriette--himself personally unstraps her from the death board. So ensues a scene that would wring even a heart of stone: the delivery of a demented girl from Death's very passion and utmost pang! Danton takes the little form in his arms, looks in her eyes, kisses her and tries to make her understand. "For the honor of France," he cries to the assembled multitude, as he still upholds her swaying figure, "a monstrous injustice is righted. This girl, and that young patriot," signifying to the attendants that de Vaudrey should be unloosed, "are reprieved by the order of the Revolutionary Tribunal!" The multitude--caught by Danton's tensely dramatic announcement--applauds, even as it had jeered and mocked a few moments since.