"Well, well," said the duke, "Sieur Richon is to be hanged as high as Haman; that will teach him to slander women." "But," cried Nanon, seizing the duke's hand, and summoning all her strength for the struggle, "but the poor wretch is not guilty; perhaps he's a gallant soldier; perhaps he's an honorable man; it may be that you are murdering one who is innocent!" "No, no, you are greatly mistaken, my dear; he is a forger and a slanderer. Besides, if there were nothing against him but his being governor of Vayres, he would still be guilty of high treason, and it seems to me that, even if that were all, it would be quite enough." "But hadn't he Monsieur de La Meilleraie's word?" "He said so, but I do not believe him." "Why did not the marshal enlighten the court-martial on so important a point?" "He left Libourne two hours before the court convened." "O _mon Dieu! mon Dieu!_" cried Nanon; "something tells me that he is innocent, and that his death will bring bad luck to us all. Ah! monsieur, you have great influence, and you say there is nothing you would not do for me--in Heaven's name, then, grant me that man's pardon!" "I cannot, my dear; the queen herself condemned him, and where she is, there is no other power." Nanon uttered a sigh which much resembled a groan. At that moment Richon reached the market-place, and, still tranquil and silent, was led beneath the beam to which the rope was attached; a ladder was already in place awaiting his coming. Richon mounted the ladder with unfaltering step, his noble head towering above the crowd, upon which he gazed with cold contempt. The provost passed the noose around his neck, and the crier proclaimed in a loud voice that the king was about to do justice upon the body of Étienne Richon, forger, traitor, and plebeian. "The day has come," said Richon, "when it is more honorable to be a plebeian as I am than to be a marshal of France." The words were hardly out of his mouth when the ladder was pulled from under him, and his body hung trembling from the fatal beam. A universal feeling of horror scattered the crowd, without a single shout of _Vive le roi!_ although every one could see the two royal personages at their window. Nanon hid her face in her hands and fled to the farthest corner of the room. "Whatever you may think, dear Nanon," said the duke, "I believe that this execution will have a good effect. I am curious to know what they will do at Bordeaux when they learn that we are hanging their governors." As she thought of what they might do, Nanon opened her mouth to speak, but she could only utter a heartrending shriek, raising her hands to heaven as if in entreaty that Richon's death might not be avenged; then, as if all the springs of life were dried up within her, she fell at full length upon the floor.