"From Nanon?" cried the princess when she had read it through. "Nanon is close by! Nanon gives herself up! Where is Lenet? Where is the duke? Call a messenger, a messenger!" "I am here, madame," said Barrabas, "ready to go wherever your Highness would have me." "Go to the Esplanade, to the place of execution, and bid them suspend operations,--but no, they would not believe you," she added, and seizing her pen, wrote at the bottom of the letter, "Suspend!" and handed it open to Barrabas, who rushed from the room. "Ah!" murmured the viscountess, "she loves him more dearly than I; and he will owe his life to her, wretched creature that I am!" Stunned by that thought, she fell helplessly upon a chair, although she had received upon her feet all the crushing blows of that terrible day. Meanwhile Barrabas did not lose a second; he flew down the stairs as if he had wings, leaped upon his horse, and rode furiously away toward the Esplanade. While he was on his way to the palace, Cauvignac had ridden straight to Château-Trompette. There, favored by the darkness, and rendered unrecognizable by the broad brim of his hat being pulled down over his eyes, he had questioned the bystanders and learned the whole story of his escape in all its details, and that Canolles was to pay the penalty for him. Instinctively, hardly aware of what he was doing, he thereupon hurried away to the Esplanade, driving the spurs into his horse, galloping madly through the crowd, upsetting and riding over every one who came in his way. When he reached the Esplanade he spied the gallows, and uttered a yell, which was drowned by the howling of the populace, upon whom Canolles was heaping insults in order to excite them to tear him to pieces. It was then that Canolles saw him, divined his purpose, and motioned to him that he was welcome. Cauvignac stood up in his stirrups and looked in every direction, hoping to see Barrabas or some messenger from the princess, and listening to hear the word: "_Reprieve!_" but he could see nobody and could hear nobody save Canolles, whom the executioner was just about to push from the ladder into eternity, and who pointed to his heart. Thereupon Cauvignac raised his musket, pointed it toward the young man, took careful aim, and fired. "Thanks!" said Canolles, opening his arms; "at least I die the death of a soldier." The ball pierced his breast. The executioner pushed the body from the ladder, and it swung at the end of the infamous rope; but it was nothing more than a corpse. It was as if the report of the musket was a signal, so quickly was it followed by a thousand others. Suddenly a voice cried:-- "Stop! stop! cut the rope!"