olic king. Yes, seek, wait; do you believe
that there is more chance of rescue on the Place de Greve than on the
route from Flanders?"

Salcede had seen the archers sent off for the horses, and he understood
that the order for punishment was about to be given, and it was then
that he bit his lips till they were covered with blood, as the queen had
remarked.

"No one," murmured he; "not one of those who had promised me help.
Cowards! cowards!"

The horses were now seen making their way through the crowd, and
creating everywhere an opening which closed immediately behind them. As
they passed the corner of the Rue St. Vannerie, a handsome young man,
whom we have seen before, was pushed forward impatiently by a young lad,
apparently about seventeen. It was the Vicomte Ernanton de Carmainges
and the mysterious page.

"Quick!" cried the page; "throw yourself into the opening, there is not
a moment to lose."

"But we shall be stifled; you are mad, my little friend."

"I must be near," cried the page, imperiously. "Keep close to the
horses, or we shall never arrive there."

"But before we get there, you will be torn to pieces."

"Never mind me, only go on."

"The horses will kick."

"Take hold of the tail of the last; a horse never kicks when you hold
him so."

Ernanton gave way in spite of himself to the mysterious influence of
this lad, and seized the tail of the horse, while the page clung to him.
And thus, through the crowd, waving like the sea, leaving here a piece
of a cloak, and there a fragment of a doublet, they arrived with the
horses at a few steps from the scaffold.

"Have we arrived?" asked the young man, panting.

"Yes, happily!" answered Ernanton, "for I am exhausted."

"I cannot see."

"Come before me."

"Oh, no! not yet. What are they doing?"

"Making slip knots at the ends of the cords."

"And he--what is he doing?"

"Who?"

"The condemned."

"His eyes turn incessantly from side to side."

The horses were near enough to enable the executioner to tie the feet
and hands of the criminal to the harness. Salcede uttered a cry when he
felt the cord in contact with his flesh.

"Monsieur," said the Lieutenant Tanchon to him politely, "will it please
you to address the people?" and added in a whisper, "a confession will
save your life."

Salcede looked earnestly at him, as though to read the truth in his
eyes.

"You see," continued Tanchon, "they abandon you. There is no other hope