"Parry has related to me all these terrible details,
monsieur."

Athos bowed, and resumed. "But here is something he has not
related to you, sire, for what follows passed between God,
your father, and myself; and never has the revelation of it
been made even to my dearest friends. `Go a little further
off,' said the august patient to the executioner; `it is but
for an instant, and I know that I belong to you; but
remember not to strike till I give the signal. I wish to
offer up my prayers in freedom.'"

"Pardon me," said Charles II., turning very pale, "but you,
count, who know so many details of this melancholy event, --
details which, as you said just now, have never been
revealed to anyone, -- do you know the name of that infernal
executioner, of that base wretch who concealed his face that
he might assassinate a king with impunity?"

Athos became slightly pale. "His name?" said he, "yes, I
know it, but cannot tell it."

"And what is become of him, for nobody in England knows his
destiny?"

"He is dead."

"But he did not die in his bed; he did not die a calm and
peaceful death, he did not die the death of the good?"