"Oh! yes," whispered Canolles. "Very well! I will go; but you will kill her." "So much the better!" whispered selfishness to the young man's heart; "if you kill her, she will never belong to another." But he overcame this last weakness as suddenly as it assailed him. "No, no," said he, seizing Lenet's hand; "you promised to remain with me, so remain." "What does he say?" the duke inquired of the captain of the guards. Canolles overheard the question. "I was saying, Monsieur le Duc," said he, "that I thought it was not so far from the prison to the Esplanade." "Alas!" interposed Lenet, "do not complain of the distance, my poor boy, for we have arrived." As he spoke the torch-bearers and the head of the procession disappeared around a street-corner. Lenet pressed the young man's hand, then went up to the duke, determined to make one last effort before they actually reached the place of execution. "Monsieur," said he, "once more I implore you for mercy! you will ruin our cause by executing Monsieur de Canolles." "On the contrary," retorted the duke, "we prove that we deem it a just cause, as we do not fear to make reprisals." "But reprisals can only be made between equals, Monsieur le Duc, and whatever you may say, the queen will still be queen, and we her subjects." "Let us not discuss such matters before Monsieur de Canolles," rejoined the duke aloud; "surely you can see the impropriety." "Do not speak of mercy before Monsieur le Duc;" retorted Canolles; "surely you can see that his _coup d'État_ is in process of accomplishment; do not annoy him for so small a matter." The duke made no reply; but his compressed lips and his ironical glance showed that the blow had struck home. Meanwhile they had not ceased to go forward, and Canolles now found himself at the entrance to the Esplanade. In the distance, that is, at the other side of the square, could be seen the crowd, in a vast circle formed by the glittering musket-barrels. In the centre arose a shapeless black something, which Canolles could not clearly distinguish in the shadow, and he thought that it was an ordinary scaffold. But when the torches reached the centre of the square, their light fell full upon that black object, at first unrecognizable, and revealed the hideous silhouette of a gibbet. "A gibbet!" cried Canolles, halting, and pointing to the structure. "Is not that a gibbet that I see yonder, Monsieur le Duc?" "It is; you are not mistaken," he replied, coldly. A wrathful flush reddened the young man's brow; he threw aside the two soldiers who were marching on either hand, and at one bound found himself face to face with Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld. "Monsieur," he cried, "do you forget that I am of gentle blood? All the world knows, even the executioner himself, that a nobleman is entitled to be beheaded." "Monsieur, there are circumstances--"