Grimaud was reluctant to leave the man alone and yet he
perceived the necessity of starting at once to bear these
tidings to the Comte de la Fere. Whilst he thus hesitated
the host re-entered the room, followed not only by a
surgeon, but by many other persons, whom curiosity had
attracted to the spot. The surgeon approached the dying man,
who seemed to have fainted.
“We must first extract the steel from the side,” said he,
shaking his head in a significant manner.
The prophecy which the wounded man had just uttered recurred
to Grimaud, who turned away his head. The weapon, as we have
already stated, was plunged into the body to the hilt, and
as the surgeon, taking it by the end, drew it forth, the
wounded man opened his eyes and fixed them on him in a
Page 231
Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
manner truly frightful. When at last the blade had been
entirely withdrawn, a red froth issued from the mouth of the
wounded man and a stream of blood spouted afresh from the
wound when he at length drew breath; then, fixing his eyes
upon Grimaud with a singular expression, the dying man
uttered the last death-rattle and expired.
Then Grimaud, lifting the dagger from the pool of blood
which was gliding along the room, to the horror of all
present, made a sign to the host to follow him, paid him
with a generosity worthy of his master and again mounted his
horse. Grimaud’s first intention had been to return to
Paris, but he remembered the anxiety which his prolonged
absence might occasion Raoul, and reflecting that there were
now only two miles between the vicomte and himself and a
quarter of an hour’s riding would unite them, and that the
going, returning and explanation would not occupy an hour,
he put spurs to his horse and a few minutes after had
reached the only inn of Mazingarbe.
Raoul was seated at table with the Count de Guiche and his
tutor, when all at once the door opened and Grimaud
presented himself, travel-stained, dirty, and sprinkled with
the blood of the unhappy executioner.
“Grimaud, my good Grimaud!” exclaimed Raoul “here you are at
last! Excuse me, sirs, this is not a servant, but a friend.
How did you leave the count?” continued he. “Does he regret
me a little? Have you seen him since I left him? Answer, for
I have many things to tell you, too; indeed, the last three
days some odd adventures have happened — but what is the
matter? how pale you are! and blood, too! What is this?”
“It is the blood of the unfortunate man whom you left at the
inn and who died in my arms.”
“In your arms? — that man! but know you who he was?”
“He used to be the headsman of Bethune.”
“You knew him? and he is dead?”
“Yes.”
“Well, sir,” said D’Arminges, “it is the common lot; even an
executioner is not exempted. I had a bad opinion of him the
moment I saw his wound, and since he asked for a monk you
know that it was his opinion, too, that death would follow.”
At the mention of the monk, Grimaud became pale.
“Come, come,” continued D’Arminges, “to dinner;” for like
most men of his age and generation he did not allow
sentiment or sensibility to interfere with a repast.
“You are right, sir,” said Raoul. “Come, Grimaud, order
dinner for yourself and when you have rested a little we can
talk.”
“No, sir, no,” said Grimaud. “I cannot stop a moment; I must
start for Paris again immediately.”
“What? You start for Paris? You are mistaken; it is Olivain
who leaves me; you are to remain.”
Page 232
Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“On the contrary, Olivain is to stay and I am to go. I have
come for nothing else but to tell you so.”
“But what is the meaning of this change?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“Explain yourself.”
“I cannot explain myself.”
“Come, tell me, what is the joke?”
“Monsieur le vicomte knows that I never joke.”
“Yes, but I know also that Monsieur le Comte de la Fere