small ivory cross and an image of St. Magdalen.

"These are his remains," she said, weeping.

"Say, the relics of a martyr!" exclaimed a citizen, baring his head.




CHAPTER VI

THE DREAM

Meanwhile, Cinq-Mars, amid the excitement which his outbreak had
provoked, felt his left arm seized by a hand as hard as iron, which,
drawing him from the crowd to the foot of the steps, pushed him behind
the wall of the church, and he then saw the dark face of old Grandchamp,
who said to him in a sharp voice:

"Sir, your attack upon thirty musketeers in a wood at Chaumont was
nothing, because we were near you, though you knew it not, and, moreover,
you had to do with men of honor; but here 'tis different. Your horses
and people are at the end of the street; I request you to mount and leave
the town, or to send me back to Madame la Marechale, for I am responsible
for your limbs, which you expose so freely."

Cinq-Mars was somewhat astonished at this rough mode of having a service
done him, was not sorry to extricate himself thus from the affair, having
had time to reflect how very awkward it might be for him to be
recognized, after striking the head of the judicial authority, the agent