In her anxiety to see better she grew regardless of precaution. Robespierre struggled to draw her from the window. It was madness. She might be seen! Thérèse still raised her voice, choked with tears, in supplications to heaven: "_Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death. Amen!_" A cry of anguish rent the air. Clarisse had recognised Olivier! "There in that cart!" Robespierre strained his eyes, half dead with fear.... "Where? Where?" He could not see him! "Oh yes! Yes! there, in the second cart! That young man standing, his head bent!..." And unable longer to contain herself, in the madness of grief, she placed her hand on the window clasp and would have opened it; but Robespierre prevented her, and the struggle began again. No! she was mistaken! She need only look! The young man was raising his head. "There, you see, it is not he!" "Then he must be in another cart!..." And worn out with agonising suspense and excitement she sank down in a chair. Again the noisy clamour died into the distance. Robespierre took courage now. It was surely the last cartload! "You look!" cried Clarisse.... "I cannot look again!" Oh! if it were the last! If it were the last and their torture at an end! She leant her head on her hands and closed her eyes, in order to see no more, while great silent tears trickled through her fingers. Robespierre lifted the shutters and stopped to look through, but quickly let them fall again. Alas! It was not over! There was still another tumbril. The buzz of sounds advancing gradually betokened it too well! In one bound Clarisse was at the window. "Will it never end!" Robespierre made a gesture to close her mouth. "For God's sake, do not scream!" But Clarisse did not heed him; she would go out! Out, into the street! It was too awful! She would put an end to it all! Robespierre held her back with fresh entreaties. Maddened by the restraint, she struggled desperately to free herself. Thérèse, distracted from her orisons by the violence of the scene, turned her head. Seeing Clarisse's state, she understood all in a moment. Olivier was there in one of those tumbrils! Olivier was on the way to the scaffold! ... And Clarisse, now regardless of consequences, owned the truth. "Oh yes, Olivier, our Olivier, he is there! They are going to kill him!..." "Olivier! kill him!" repeated Thérèse, half dazed; then the awful reality rushed suddenly upon her. She started to her feet with a cry that echoed through the house. "Olivier going to die? Oh! mamma, mamma!" Robespierre continued his supplications, holding Clarisse, who still struggled, in his grasp. She would have her son! She would go and demand him from the executioner! Every mother there would intercede for her! "If they will not give him to me, let them kill me, kill me with him! I will go! I will go! I must save my son! For God's sake, let me go!"