"Maitre," said he, "do us the kindness to stop a moment opposite the Rue Tizon."
Caboche nodded in a.s.sent, and drew rein at the place indicated.
Aided by Coconnas, La Mole raised himself with an effort, and with eyes blinded by tears gazed at the small house, silent and mute, deserted as a tomb. A groan burst from him, and in a low voice he murmured:
"Adieu, adieu, youth, love, life!"
And his head fell forward on his breast.
"Courage," said Coconnas; "we may perhaps find all this above."
"Do you think so?" murmured La Mole.
"I think so, because the priest said so; and above all, because I hope so. But do not faint, my friend, or these staring wretches will laugh at us."
Caboche heard the last words and whipping his horse with one hand he extended the other, unseen by any one, to Coconnas. It contained a small sponge saturated with a powerful stimulant, and La Mole, after smelling it and rubbing his forehead with it, felt himself revived and reanimated.
"Ah!" said La Mole, "I am better," and he kissed the reliquary, which he wore around his neck.
As they turned a corner of the quay and reached the small edifice built by Henry II. they saw the scaffold rising bare and b.l.o.o.d.y on its platform above the heads of the crowd.
"Dear friend," said La Mole, "I wish I might be the first to die."
Coconnas again touched the hangman"s shoulder.
"What is it, my gentleman?" said the latter, turning around.
"My good fellow," said Coconnas, "you will do what you can for me, will you not? You said you would."
"Yes, and I repeat it."
"My friend has suffered more than I and consequently has less strength"--
"Well?"
"Well, he says that it would cause him too much pain to see me die first. Besides, if I were to die before him he would have no one to support him on the scaffold."
"Very well," said Caboche, wiping away a tear with the back of his hand; "be easy, it shall be as you wish."
"And with one blow, eh?" said the Piedmontese in a low tone.
"With one blow."
"That is well. If you have to make up for it, make up on me."
The tumbril stopped. They had arrived. Coconnas put on his hat.
A murmur like that of the waves at sea reached the ears of La Mole. He strove to rise, but strength failed him. Caboche and Coconnas supported him under the arms.
The place was paved with heads; the steps of the Hotel de Ville seemed an amphitheatre peopled with spectators. Each window was filled with animated faces, the eyes of which seemed on fire.
When they saw the handsome young man, no longer able to support himself on his bruised legs, make a last effort to reach the scaffold, a great shout rose like a cry of universal desolation. Men groaned and women uttered plaintive shrieks.
"He was one of the greatest courtiers!" said the men; "and he should not have to die at Saint Jean en Greve, but at the Pre aux Clercs."
"How handsome he is! How pale!" said the women; "he is the one who would not confess."
"Dearest friend," said La Mole, "I cannot stand. Carry me!"
"Wait," said Coconnas.
He signed to the executioner, who stepped aside; then, stooping, he lifted La Mole in his arms as if he were a child, and without faltering carried his burden up the steps of the scaffold, where he put him down, amid the frantic shouting and applause of the mult.i.tude. Coconnas raised his hat and bowed. Then he threw the hat on the scaffold beside him.
"Look round," said La Mole, "do you not see them somewhere?"
Coconnas slowly glanced around the place, and, having reached a certain point, without removing his eyes from it he laid his hand on his friend"s shoulder.
"Look," said he, "look at the window of that small tower!"
With his other hand he pointed out to La Mole the little building which still stands at the corner of the Rue de la Vannerie and the Rue Mouton,--a reminder of past ages.
Somewhat back from the window two women dressed in black were leaning against each other.
"Ah!" said La Mole, "I feared only one thing, and that was to die without seeing her again. I have seen her; now I can go."
And with his eyes riveted on the small window he raised the reliquary to his lips and covered it with kisses.
Coconnas saluted the two women with as much grace as if he were in a drawing-room. In response to this they waved their handkerchiefs bathed in tears.
Caboche now touched Coconnas on the shoulder, and looked at him significantly.
"Yes, yes," said the Piedmontese. Then turning to La Mole:
"Embrace me," said he, "and die like a man. This will not be hard for you, my friend; you are so brave!"
"Ah!" said La Mole, "there will be no merit in my dying bravely, suffering as I do."
The priest approached and held the crucifix before La Mole, who smiled and pointed to the reliquary in his hand.
"Never mind," said the priest, "ask strength from Him who suffered what you are about to suffer."
La Mole kissed the feet of the Christ.
"Commend me to the prayers of the nuns of the Avens Sainte Vierge."
"Make haste, La Mole," said Coconnas, "you cause me such suffering that I feel myself growing weak."
"I am ready," said La Mole.