It was near midnight; the moon, lessened by its decline, and reddened bythe last traces of the storm, arose behind the little town ofArmentieres, which showed against its pale light the dark outline of itshouses, and the skeleton of its high belfry. In front of them the Lysrolled its waters like a river of molten tin; while on the other sidewas a black mass of trees, profiled on a stormy sky, invaded by largecoppery clouds which created a sort of twilight amid the night. On theleft was an old abandoned mill, with its motionless wings, from theruins of which an owl threw out its shrill, periodical, and monotonouscry. On the right and on the left of the road, which the dismalprocession pursued, appeared a few low, stunted trees, which looked likedeformed dwarfs crouching down to watch men traveling at this sinisterhour.

>From time to time a broad sheet of lightning opened the horizon in itswhole width, darted like a serpent over the black mass of trees, andlike a terrible scimitar divided the heavens and the waters into twoparts. Not a breath of wind now disturbed the heavy atmosphere. Adeathlike silence oppressed all nature. The soil was humid andglittering with the rain which had recently fallen, and the refreshedherbs sent forth their perfume with additional energy.

Two lackeys dragged Milady, whom each held by one arm. The executionerwalked behind them, and Lord de Winter, D'Artagnan, Porthos, and Aramiswalked behind the executioner. Planchet and Bazin came last.

The two lackeys conducted Milady to the bank of the river. Her mouthwas mute; but her eyes spoke with their inexpressible eloquence,supplicating by turns each of those on whom she looked.

Being a few paces in advance she whispered to the lackeys, "A thousandpistoles to each of you, if you will assist my escape; but if youdeliver me up to your masters, I have near at hand avengers who willmake you pay dearly for my death."

Grimaud hesitated. Mousqueton trembled in all his members.

Athos, who heard Milady's voice, came sharply up. Lord de Winter didthe same.

"Change these lackeys," said he; "she has spoken to them. They are nolonger sure."

Planchet and Bazin were called, and took the places of Grimaud andMousqueton.

On the bank of the river the executioner approached Milady, and boundher hands and feet.

Then she broke the silence to cry out, "You are cowards, miserableassassins - ten men combined to murder one woman. Beware! If I am notsaved I shall be avenged."

"You are not a woman," said Athos, coldly and sternly. "You do notbelong to the human species; you are a demon escaped from hell, whitherwe send you back again."

"Ah, you virtuous men!" said Milady; "please to remember that he whoshall touch a hair of my head is himself an assassin."

"The executioner may kill, without being on that account an assassin,"said the man in the red cloak, rapping upon his immense sword. "This isthe last judge; that is all. NACHRICHTER, as say our neighbors, theGermans."

And as he bound her while saying these words, Milady uttered two orthree savage cries, which produced a strange and melancholy effect inflying away into the night, and losing themselves in the depths of thewoods.

"If I am guilty, if I have committed the crimes you accuse me of,"shrieked Milady, "take me before a tribunal. You are not judges! Youcannot condemn me!"

"I offered you Tyburn," said Lord de Winter. "Why did you not acceptit?"

"Because I am not willing to die!" cried Milady, struggling. "BecauseI am too young to die!"

"The woman you poisoned at Bethune was still younger than you, madame,and yet she is dead," said D'Artagnan.

"I will enter a cloister; I will become a nun," said Milady.

"You were in a cloister," said the executioner, "and you left it to ruinmy brother."

Milady uttered a cry of terror and sank upon her knees. The executionertook her up in his arms and was carrying her toward the boat.

"Oh, my God!" cried she, "my God! are you going to drown me?"

These cries had something so heartrending in them that M. d'Artagnan,who had been at first the most eager in pursuit of Milady, sat down onthe stump of a tree and hung his head, covering his ears with the palmsof his hands; and yet, notwithstanding, he could still hear her cry andthreaten.

D'Artagnan was the youngest of all these men. His heart failed him.

"Oh, I cannot behold this frightful spectacle!" said he. "I cannotconsent that this woman should die thus!"

Milady heard these few words and caught at a shadow of hope.

"D'Artagnan, D'Artagnan!" cried she; "remember that I loved you!"

The young man rose and took a step toward her.

But Athos rose likewise, drew his sword, and placed himself in the way.

"If you take one step farther, D'Artagnan," said he, "we shall crossswords together."

D'Artagnan sank on his knees and prayed.

"Come," continued Athos, "executioner, do your duty."

"Willingly, monseigneur," said the executioner; "for as I am a goodCatholic, I firmly believe I am acting justly in performing my functionson this woman."

"That's well."

Athos made a step toward Milady.

"I pardon you," said he, "the ill you have done me. I pardon you for myblasted future, my lost honor, my defiled love, and my salvation forevercompromised by the despair into which you have cast me. Die in peace!"

Lord de Winter advanced in his turn.

"I pardon you," said he, "for the poisoning of my brother, and theassassination of his Grace, Lord Buckingham. I pardon you for the deathof poor Felton; I pardon you for the attempts upon my own person. Diein peace!"

"And I," said M. d'Artagnan. "Pardon me, madame, for having by a trickunworthy of a gentleman provoked your anger; and I, in exchange, pardonyou the murder of my poor love and your cruel vengeance against me. Ipardon you, and I weep for you. Die in peace!"

"I am lost!" murmured Milady in English. "I must die!"

Then she arose of herself, and cast around her one of those piercinglooks which seemed to dart from an eye of flame.

She saw nothing; she listened, and she heard nothing.

"Where am I to die?" said she.

"On the other bank," replied the executioner.

Then he placed her in the boat, and as he was going to set foot in ithimself, Athos handed him a sum of silver.

"Here," said he, "is the price of the execution, that it may be plain weact as judges."

"That is correct," said the executioner; "and now in her turn, let thiswoman see that I am not fulfilling my trade, but my debt."

And he threw the money into the river.

The boat moved off toward the left-hand shore of the Lys, bearing theguilty woman and the executioner; all the others remained on the right-hand bank, where they fell on their knees.

The boat glided along the ferry rope under the shadow of a pale cloudwhich hung over the water at that moment.

The troop of friends saw it gain the opposite bank; the figures weredefined like black shadows on the red-tinted horizon.

Milady, during the passage had contrived to untie the cord whichfastened her feet. On coming near the bank, she jumped lightly on shoreand took to flight. But the soil was moist; on reaching the top of thebank, she slipped and fell upon her knees.

She was struck, no doubt, with a superstitious idea; she conceived thatheaven denied its aid, and she remained in the attitude in which she hadfallen, her head drooping and her hands clasped.

Then they saw from the other bank the executioner raise both his armsslowly; a moonbeam fell upon the blade of the large sword. The twoarms fell with a sudden force; they heard the hissing of the scimitarand the cry of the victim, then a truncated mass sank beneath the blow.

The executioner then took off his red cloak, spread it upon the ground,laid the body in it, threw in the head, tied all up by the four corners,lifted it on his back, and entered the boat again.

In the middle of the stream he stopped the boat, and suspending hisburden over the water cried in a loud voice, "Let the justice of God bedone!" and he let the corpse drop into the depths of the waters, whichclosed over it.

Three days afterward the four Musketeers were in Paris; they had notexceeded their leave of absence, and that same evening they went to paytheir customary visit to M. de Treville.

"Well, gentlemen," said the brave captain, "I hope you have been wellamused during your excursion."

"Prodigiously," replied Athos in the name of himself and his comrades.