He was laid upon the plank. The infamous collar clasped that charming and noble head. The executioner gently lifted his hair, then pressed the spring; the triangle detached itself, gliding first slowly, then rapidly: a frightful blow was heard. At the same instant another report sounded; the stroke of the axe was answered by a pistol-shot. Cimourdain had just seized one of the pistols that he wore in his belt; and as Gauvain's head rolled into the basket, Cimourdain sent a bullet through his own heart. A stream of blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell dead. Thus these twin souls, united in the tragic death, rose together,--the shadow of the one blending with the radiance of the other. [Illustration 137] THE END. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ninety-Three, by Victor Hugo