For a long time no one knew where she had been imprisoned. A missionary, passing by the palace stables saw her aunt who had been confined with her. With difficulty he obtained permission to see her for a moment. He found her in a dismal dungeon, stretched on a mat with her unhappy and innocent son by her side whose lamentations seemed to reproach her for having brought him into the world to suffer. This woman, brought up in luxury and splendour, bore her hard fate as if she had been born to it. She displayed that serenity of mind which is a sure indication of a calm and pure soul and she appeared more at peace in her gloomy prison than she had been amid the gaieties of the palace. For some time they respected the life of Faulcon since he was under the protection of the King of France and they feared to incur the vengeance of the French troops. But the usurper on seeing how little interest the French took in their old protector, considered that now was a chance to get rid with impunity of an enemy who though even in irons appeared formidable. Sentence of death was pronounced against him on the charge of high treason, a crime on which those in authority are wont to arraign fallen ministers. He was punished for having introduced foreigners, whom he wished to use as a means of self aggrandisement and for the furtherance of his ambitious designs in the kingdom. At dusk he was taken from his prison and went by elephant to a forest near Louvo to receive the fatal stroke. It seems that his barbarous enemy had chosen the silent forest for the execution ground as if he wished to bury the horror of his unjust revenge in eternal silence. Faulcon's countenence was pale, but this was caused rather by the sufferings he had undergone in prison than the fear of the death which was about to end them. His glance was fixed and he uttered no groan or complaint; he seemed lost in communion with the God he was so shortly to meet. Having arrived at the spot where he was to meet his doom, he saw the son of the tyrant who was in charge of the execution. He turned towards him, not to implore mercy but to ask for time to make his peace with the Judge before Whom he was so soon to appear. The soldiers seemed distressed to see one before whom the people and the nobility but so recently had bowed down, now brought to so pitiable a condition. Having finished his prayer, he protested that he was innocent, but that in dying guiltless, he had at least the consolation of being able to expiate, by a painful death, the weaknesses and follies of a life devoted to the pursuit of fruitless ambition. He added that during the whole course of his tenure of office, the only motives by which his policy had been directed, were the glory of the true God, the service of his King, and the interests of the State. After this protest he spoke a second time to the young official in these words, rendered more pathetic by their eloquent grief rather than by any devices of art.