“Do not attempt it; he has revenged himself and has done well. Now I may hope that God will forgive me, since my crime is expiated.” “Explain yourself.” said Grimaud. “The woman whom you and your masters commanded me to kill——” “Milady?” “Yes, Milady; it is true you called her thus.” “What has the monk to do with this Milady?” “She was his mother.” Grimaud trembled and stared at the dying man in a dull and leaden manner. “His mother!” he repeated. “Yes, his mother.” “But does he know this secret, then?” “I mistook him for a monk and revealed it to him in confession.” “Unhappy man!” cried Grimaud, whose face was covered with sweat at the bare idea of the evil results such a revelation might cause; “unhappy man, you named no one, I hope?” “I pronounced no name, for I knew none, except his mother’s, as a young girl, and it was by this name that he recognized her, but he knows that his uncle was among her judges.” Thus speaking, he fell back exhausted. Grimaud, wishing to relieve him, advanced his hand toward the hilt of the dagger. “Touch me not!” said the executioner; “if this dagger is withdrawn I shall die.” Grimaud remained with his hand extended; then, striking his forehead, he exclaimed: “Oh! if this man should ever discover the names of the others, my master is lost.” “Haste! haste to him and warn him,” cried the wounded man, “if he still lives; warn his friends, too. My death, believe me, will not be the end of this atrocious misadventure.” “Where was the monk going?” asked Grimaud. “Toward Paris.” “Who stopped him?” “Two young gentlemen, who were on their way to join the army and the name of one of whom I heard his companion mention—the Viscount de Bragelonne.” “And it was this young man who brought the monk to you? Then it was the will of God that it should be so and this it is which makes it all so awful,” continued Grimaud. “And yet that woman deserved her fate; do you not think so?” “On one’s death-bed the crimes of others appear very small in comparison with one’s own,” said the executioner; and falling back exhausted he closed his eyes. Grimaud was reluctant to leave the man alone and yet he perceived the necessity of starting at once to bear these tidings to the Comte de la Fère. Whilst he thus hesitated the host re-entered the room, followed not only by a surgeon, but by many other persons, whom curiosity had attracted to the spot. The surgeon approached the dying man, who seemed to have fainted. “We must first extract the steel from the side,” said he, shaking his head in a significant manner.