And this, I think, is all that I have
to relate, and my son will not have an unquiet night, for I have
kept my word, and told every thing truthfully."
"You have nothing to add to this?"
"What could I add to this?" asked Oliva, sighing. "You know as well
as I the end of my history. You know, that a fortnight after that
little scene at Versailles, I was arrested by police agents in
Brussels, and brought to Paris. You know, also, that I swore to take
my life if my dear George were not allowed to visit me daily in
prison. You know that my dear child was born in prison, and that it
is now half a year old, while his poor mother is accused, and not
yet gained her freedom. You know that all! What have I that I could
add to this? I beg you, let me go and return to my child, for my
little George is certainly awake, and his father does not know how
to quiet him when he cries."
"You may go to your child," said the president, with a gentle smile.
"Officer, conduct Madame Oliva back to the witness-room."
Madame Oliva expressed her thanks for this by throwing a kiss of the
hand to the president and the judges, and then hastily followed the
officer, who opened the door of the adjoining room. As it swung
back, a loud cry of a child was heard, and Madame Oliva, who was
standing upon the threshold, turned her fair face back to the
president with a triumphant expression, and smiled.
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