He saw what remained for him to do, as one sees some wild landscape by the lightning's livid gleam--'tis awful, but grand. Du Couëdic bends down; but, as he bends, he cries--"See how they recompense the services of faithful soldiers!--see how you keep your promises, oh ye cowards of Bretagne!" Two assistants force him on his knees; the sword of the executioner whirls round and gleams again, and Du Couëdic lies beside Talhouet. The executioner takes up the head; shows it to the people; and then places it at one corner of the scaffold, opposite that of Talhouet. "Who next?" asks Waters. "It matters little," answers a voice, "provided that Monsieur de Pontcalec be the last, according to his sentence." "I, then," said Montlouis, "I." And he springs upon the scaffold. But there he stops, his hair bristling; at a window before him he has seen his wife and his children. "Montlouis! Montlouis!" cries his wife, with the despairing accent of a breaking heart, "Montlouis! look at us!" At the same moment all eyes were turned toward that window. Soldiers, citizens, priests, and executioners look the same way. Gaston profits by the deathlike silence which reigns around him--springs to the scaffold, and grasps the staircase--and mounts the first steps. "My wife! my children!" cries Montlouis, wringing his hands in despair; "oh! go, have pity upon me!" "Montlouis!" cries his wife, holding up afar the youngest of his sons, "Montlouis, bless your children, and one day, perhaps, one of them will avenge you." "Adieu! my children, my blessing on you!" cries Montlouis, stretching his hands toward the window. These mournful adieux pierce the night, and reverberate like a terrible echo in the hearts of the spectators. "Enough," says Waters, "enough." Then turning to his assistants: "Be quick!" says he, "or the people will not allow us to finish." "Be easy," says Montlouis; "if the people should rescue me, I would not survive them." And he pointed with his finger to the heads of his companions. "Ah, I had estimated them rightly, then," cried Gaston, who heard these words, "Montlouis, martyr, pray for me." Montlouis turned round, he seemed to have heard a well-known voice; but at the very moment the executioner seized him, and almost instantly a loud cry told Gaston that Montlouis was like the others, and that _his_ turn was come. He leaped up; in a moment he was on the top of the ladder, and he in his turn looked down from the abominable platform upon all that crowd. At three corners of the scaffold were the heads of Talhouet, Du Couëdic, and Montlouis.