"He died a violent death, in a terrible night, rendered so by the
passions of man and a tempest from God. His body, pierced by a dagger,
sank to the depths of the ocean. God pardon his murderer!"

"Proceed, then," said Charles II., seeing that the count was unwilling to
say more.

"The king of England, after having, as I have said, spoken thus to the
masked executioner, added, - 'Observe, you will not strike till I shall
stretch out my arms, saying - REMEMBER!'"

"I was aware," said Charles, in an agitated voice, "that that was the
last word pronounced by my unfortunate father. But why and for whom?"

"For the French gentleman placed beneath his scaffold."

"For you, then, monsieur?"

"Yes, sire; and every one of the words which he spoke to me, through the
planks of the scaffold covered with a black cloth, still sounds in my
ears. The king knelt down on one knee: 'Comte de la Fere,' said he, 'are
you there?' 'Yes, sire,' replied I. Then the king stooped towards the
boards."

Charles II., also palpitating with interest, burning with grief, stooped
towards Athos, to catch, one by one, every word that escaped from him.
His head touched that of the comte.

"Then," continued Athos, "the king stooped. 'Comte de la Fere,' said he,
'I could not be saved by you: it was not to be. Now, even though I