l. You thought but of yourselves; you do not love
each other. She thought but of her rank, and you of your ambition. One
loves in order to hear one's self called perfect, and to be adored; it is
still the same egoism."

"Cruel serpent!" cried Cinq-Mars; "is it not enough that thou hast caused
our deaths? Why dost thou come here to cast thy venom upon the life thou
hast taken from us? What demon has suggested to thee thy horrible
analysis of hearts?"

"Hatred of everything which is superior to myself," replied Joseph, with
a low and hollow laugh, "and the desire to crush those I hate under my
feet, have made me ambitious and ingenious in finding the weakness of
your dreams."

"Just Heaven, dost thou hear him?" exclaimed Cinq-Mars, rising and
extending his arms upward.

The solitude of his prison; the pious conversations of his friend; and,
above all, the presence of death, which, like the light of an unknown
star, paints in other colors the objects we are accustomed to see;
meditations on eternity; and (shall we say it?) the great efforts he had
made to change his heartrending regrets into immortal hopes, and to
direct to God all that power of love which had led him astray upon
earth-all this combined had worked a strange revolution in him; and like
those ears of corn which ripen suddenly on receiving one ray from the
sun, his soul had acquired light, exalted by the mysterious influence of
death.

"Just Heaven!" he repeated, "if this wretch and his master are human, can
I also be a man? Behold, O God, behold two distinct ambitions--the one
egoistical and bloody, the other devoted and unstained; theirs roused by
hatred, and ours inspired by love. Look down, O Lord, judge, and pardon!
Pardon, for we have greatly erred in walking but for a single day in the
same paths which, on earth, possess but one name to whatever end it may
tend!"

Joseph interrupted him harshly, stamping his foot on the ground:

"When you have finished your prayer," said he, "you will perhaps inform
me whether you will assist me; and I will instantly--"

"Never, impure wretch, never!" said Henri d'Effiat. "I will never unite
with you in an assassination. I refused to do so when powerful, and upon
yourself."

"You were wrong; you would have been master now."

"And what happiness should I find in my power when shared as it must be
by a woman who does not understand me; who loved me feebly, and prefers a
crown?"

"Inconceivable folly!" said