square. The sound of heavy steps was heard above his head.
The next moment the very planks of the scaffold creaked with
the weight of an advancing procession, and the eager faces
of the spectators confirmed what a last hope at the bottom
of his heart had prevented him till then believing. At the
same moment a well-known voice above him pronounced these
words:
“Colonel, I want to speak to the people.”
Athos shuddered from head to foot. It was the king speaking
on the scaffold.
In fact, after taking a few drops of wine and a piece of
bread, Charles, weary of waiting for death, had suddenly
decided to go to meet it and had given the signal for
movement. Then the two wings of the window facing the square
had been thrown open, and the people had seen silently
advancing from the interior of the vast chamber, first, a
masked man, who, carrying an axe in his hand, was recognized
as the executioner. He approached the block and laid his axe
upon it. Behind him, pale indeed, but marching with a firm
step, was Charles Stuart, who advanced between two priests,
followed by a few superior officers appointed to preside at
the execution and attended by two files of partisans who
took their places on opposite sides of the scaffold.
The sight of the masked man gave rise to a prolonged
sensation. Every one was full of curiosity as to who that
unknown executioner could be who presented himself so
opportunely to assure to the people the promised spectacle,
when the people believed it had been postponed until the
following day. All gazed at him searchingly.
But they could discern nothing but a man of middle height,
dressed in black, apparently of a certain age, for the end
of a gray beard peeped out from the bottom of the mask that
hid his features.
The king’s request had undoubtedly been acceded to by an
affirmative sign, for in firm, sonorous accents, which
vibrated in the depths of Athos’s heart, the king began his
speech, explaining his conduct and counseling the welfare of
the kingdom.
“Oh!” said Athos to himself, “is it indeed possible that I
hear what I hear and that I see what I see? Is it possible
that God has abandoned His representative on earth and left
him to die thus miserably? And I have not seen him! I have
not said adieu to him!”
A noise was heard like that the instrument of death would
make if moved upon the block.
“Do not touch the axe,” said the king, and resumed his
speech.
At the end of his speech the king looked tenderly around
upon the people. Then unfastening the diamond ornament which
Page 465
Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
the queen had sent him, he placed it in the hands of the
priest who accompanied Juxon. Then he drew from his breast a
little cross set in diamonds, which, like the order, had
been the gift of Henrietta Maria.
“Sir,” said he to the priest, “I shall keep this cross in my
hand till the last moment. Take it from me when I am —
dead.”
“Yes, sire,” said a voice, which Athos recognized as that of
Aramis.
He then took his hat from his head and threw it on the
ground. One by one he undid the buttons of his doublet, took
it off and deposited it by the side of his hat. Then, as it
was cold, he asked for his gown, which was brought to him.
All the preparations were made with a frightful calmness.
One would have thought the king was going to bed and not to
his coffin.
“Will these be in your way?” he said to the executioner,
raising his long locks; “if so, they can be tied up.”
Charles accompanied these words with a look designed to
penetrate the mask of the unknown headsman. His calm, noble
gaze forced the man to turn away his head. But after the
searching look of the king he encountered the burning eyes
of Aramis.
The king, seeing that he did not reply, repeated his
question.
“It will do,” replied the man, in a tremulous voice, “if you