as though it was extorted from him
only by the pain,--he grimaced, roared, and yelled so naturally, and in
so many different tones of voice,--that the judge himself became
terrified at having to record details so compromising to a son of
France.

"Well!" said Caboche to himself, "here is a gentleman who does not need
to say things twice, and who gives full measure of work to the clerk.
Great God! what if, instead of leather, the wedges had been of wood!"

Coconnas was excused from the last wedge; but he had had nine others,
which were enough to have crushed his limbs completely.

The judge reminded the victim of the mercy allowed him on account of his
confession, and withdrew.

The prisoner was alone with Caboche.

"Well," asked the latter, "how are you?"

"Ah! my friend! my kind friend, my dear Caboche!" exclaimed Coconnas.
"You may be sure I shall be grateful all my life for what you have done
for me."

"The deuce! but you are right, monsieur, for if they knew what I have
done it would be I who would have to take your place on the rack, and
they would not treat me as I have treated you."

"But how did the idea come to you?"

"Well," said Caboche, wrapping the limbs of Coconnas in bloody bands of
linen; "I knew you had been arrested, and that your trial was going on.
I knew that Queen Catharine was anxious for your death. I guessed that
they would put you to the torture and consequently took my precautions."

"At the risk of what might have happened?"

"Monsieur," said Caboche, "you are the only gentleman who ever gave me
his hand, and we all have memories and hearts, even though we are
hangmen, and perhaps for that very reason. You will see to-morrow how
well I will do my work."

"To-morrow?" said Coconnas.

"Yes."

"What work?"

Caboche looked at Coconnas in amazement.

"What work? Have you forgotten the sentence?"

"Ah! yes, of course! the sentence!" said Coconnas; "I had forgotten it."

The fact is that Coconnas had not really forgotten it, but he had not
been thinking of it.

What he was thinking of was the chapel, the knife hidden under the altar
cloth, of Henriette and the queen, of the vestry door, and the two
horses waiting on the edge of the forest; he was thinking of liberty, of
the ride in the open air, of safety beyond the boundaries of France.

"Now," said Caboche, "you must be taken skilfully from the rack to the
litter. Do not forget that for every one, even the guards, your li