Part 167 (1/2)

Coconnas quietly disengaged himself from Henriette, who was leading him to the door, and with a gesture so solemn that it seemed majestic said:

”Madame, first give the five hundred crowns we promised to this man.”

”Here they are,” said Henriette.

Then turning to La Mole, and shaking his head sadly:

”As for you, La Mole, you do me wrong to think for an instant that I could leave you. Have I not sworn to live and die with you? But you are suffering so, my poor friend, that I forgive you.”

And seating himself resolutely beside his friend Coconnas leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

Then gently, as gently as a mother would do to her child, he drew the dear head towards him, until it rested on his breast.

Marguerite was numb. She had picked up the dagger which Coconnas had just let fall.

”Oh, my queen,” said La Mole, extending his arms to her, and understanding her thought, ”my beloved queen, do not forget that I die in order to destroy the slightest suspicion of our love!”

”But what can I do for you, then,” cried Marguerite, in despair, ”if I cannot die with you?”

”You can make death sweet to me,” replied La Mole; ”you can come to me with smiling lips.”

Marguerite advanced and clasped her hands as if asking him to speak.

”Do you remember that evening, Marguerite, when in exchange for the life I then offered you, and which to-day I lay down for you, you made me a sacred promise.”

Marguerite gave a start.

”Ah! you do remember,” said La Mole, ”for you shudder.”

”Yes, yes, I remember, and on my soul, Hyacinthe, I will keep that promise.”

Marguerite raised her hand towards the altar, as if calling G.o.d a second time to witness her oath.

La Mole's face lighted up as if the vaulted roof of the chapel had opened and a heavenly ray had fallen on him.

”They are coming!” said the jailer.

Marguerite uttered a cry, and rushed to La Mole, but the fear of increasing his agony made her pause trembling before him.

Henriette pressed her lips to Coconnas's brow, and said to him:

”My Annibal, I understand, and I am proud of you. I well know that your heroism makes you die, and for that heroism I love you. Before G.o.d I will always love you more than all else, and what Marguerite has sworn to do for La Mole, although I know not what it is, I swear I will do for you also.”

And she held out her hand to Marguerite.

”Ah! thank you,” said Coconnas; ”that is the way to speak.”

”Before you leave me, my queen,” said La Mole, ”one last favor. Give me some last souvenir, that I may kiss it as I mount the scaffold.”