66. Remember!

  The mob had already assembled when the confession terminated. The king'schildren next arrived--the Princess Charlotte, a beautiful, fair-hairedchild, with tears in her eyes, and the Duke of Gloucester, a boy eightor nine years old, whose tearless eyes and curling lip revealed agrowing pride. He had wept all night long, but would not show his griefbefore the people.

  Charles's heart melted within him at the sight of those two children,whom he had not seen for two years and whom he now met at the moment ofdeath. He turned to brush away a tear, and then, summoning up all hisfirmness, drew his daughter toward him, recommending her to be pious andresigned. Then he took the boy upon his knee.

  "My son," he said to him, "you saw a great number of people in thestreets as you came here. These men are going to behead your father. Donot forget that. Perhaps some day they will want to make you king,instead of the Prince of Wales, or the Duke of York, your elderbrothers. But you are not the king, my son, and can never be so whilethey are alive. Swear to me, then, never to let them put a crown uponyour head unless you have a legal right to the crown. For oneday--listen, my son--one day, if you do so, they will doom you todestruction, head and crown, too, and then you will not be able to diewith a calm conscience, as I die. Swear, my son."

  The child stretched out his little hand toward that of his father andsaid, "I swear to your majesty."

  "Henry," said Charles, "call me your father."

  "Father," replied the child, "I swear to you that they shall kill mesooner than make me king."

  "Good, my child. Now kiss me; and you, too, Charlotte. Never forget me."

  "Oh! never, never!" cried both the children, throwing their arms aroundtheir father's neck.

  "Farewell," said Charles, "farewell, my children. Take them away, Juxon;their tears will deprive me of the courage to die."

  Juxon led them away, and this time the doors were left open.

  Meanwhile, Athos, in his concealment, waited in vain the signal torecommence his work. Two long hours he waited in terrible inaction. Adeathlike silence reigned in the room above. At last he determined todiscover the cause of this stillness. He crept from his hole and stood,hidden by the black drapery, beneath the scaffold. Peeping out from thedrapery, he could see the rows of halberdiers and musketeers around thescaffold and the first ranks of the populace swaying and groaning likethe sea.

  "What is the matter, then?" he asked himself, trembling more than thewind-swayed cloth he was holding back. "The people are hurrying on, thesoldiers under arms, and among the spectators I see D'Artagnan. What ishe waiting for? What is he looking at? Good God! have they allowed theheadsman to escape?"

  Suddenly the dull beating of muffled drums filled the square. The soundof heavy steps was heard above his head. The next moment the very planksof the scaffold creaked with the weight of an advancing procession, andthe eager faces of the spectators confirmed what a last hope at thebottom of his heart had prevented him till then believing. At the samemoment a well-known voice above him pronounced these words:

  "Colonel, I want to speak to the people."

  Athos shuddered from head to foot. It was the king speaking on thescaffold.

  In fact, after taking a few drops of wine and a piece of bread, Charles,weary of waiting for death, had suddenly decided to go to meet it andhad given the signal for movement. Then the two wings of the windowfacing the square had been thrown open, and the people had seen silentlyadvancing from the interior of the vast chamber, first, a masked man,who, carrying an axe in his hand, was recognized as the executioner. Heapproached the block and laid his axe upon it. Behind him, pale indeed,but marching with a firm step, was Charles Stuart, who advanced betweentwo priests, followed by a few superior officers appointed to preside atthe execution and attended by two files of partisans who took theirplaces on opposite sides of the scaffold.

  The sight of the masked man gave rise to a prolonged sensation. Everyone was full of curiosity as to who that unknown executioner could bewho presented himself so opportunely to assure to the people thepromised spectacle, when the people believed it had been postponed untilthe following day. All gazed at him searchingly.

  But they could discern nothing but a man of middle height, dressed inblack, apparently of a certain age, for the end of a gray beard peepedout from the bottom of the mask that hid his features.

  The king's request had undoubtedly been acceded to by an affirmativesign, for in firm, sonorous accents, which vibrated in the depths ofAthos's heart, the king began his speech, explaining his conduct andcounseling the welfare of the kingdom.

  "Oh!" said Athos to himself, "is it indeed possible that I hear what Ihear and that I see what I see? Is it possible that God has abandonedHis representative on earth and left him to die thus miserably? And Ihave not seen him! I have not said adieu to him!"

  A noise was heard like that the instrument of death would make if movedupon the block.

  "Do not touch the axe," said the king, and resumed his speech.

  At the end of his speech the king looked tenderly around upon thepeople. Then unfastening the diamond ornament which the queen had senthim, he placed it in the hands of the priest who accompanied Juxon. Thenhe drew from his breast a little cross set in diamonds, which, like theorder, had been the gift of Henrietta Maria.

  "Sir," said he to the priest, "I shall keep this cross in my hand tillthe last moment. Take it from me when I am--dead."

  "Yes, sire," said a voice, which Athos recognized as that of Aramis.

  He then took his hat from his head and threw it on the ground. One byone he undid the buttons of his doublet, took it off and deposited it bythe side of his hat. Then, as it was cold, he asked for his gown, whichwas brought to him.

  All the preparations were made with a frightful calmness. One would havethought the king was going to bed and not to his coffin.

  "Will these be in your way?" he said to the executioner, raising hislong locks; "if so, they can be tied up."

  Charles accompanied these words with a look designed to penetrate themask of the unknown headsman. His calm, noble gaze forced the man toturn away his head. But after the searching look of the king heencountered the burning eyes of Aramis.

  The king, seeing that he did not reply, repeated his question.

  "It will do," replied the man, in a tremulous voice, "if you separatethem across the neck."

  The king parted his hair with his hands, and looking at the block hesaid:

  "This block is very low, is there no other to be had?"

  "It is the usual block," answered the man in the mask.

  "Do you think you can behead me with a single blow?" asked the king.

  "I hope so," was the reply. There was something so strange in thesethree words that everybody, except the king, shuddered.

  "I do not wish to be taken by surprise," added the king. "I shall kneeldown to pray; do not strike then."

  "When shall I strike?"

  "When I shall lay my head on the block and say 'Remember!' then strikeboldly."

  "Gentlemen," said the king to those around him, "I leave you to bravethe tempest; I go before you to a kingdom which knows no storms.Farewell."

  He looked at Aramis and made a special sign to him with his head.

  "Now," he continued, "withdraw a little and let me say my prayer, Ibeseech you. You, also, stand aside," he said to the masked man. "It isonly for a moment and I know that I belong to you; but remember that youare not to strike till I give the signal."

  Then he knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and lowering his face tothe planks, as if he would have kissed them, said in a low tone, inFrench, "Comte de la Fere, are you there?"

  "Yes, your majesty," he answered, trembling.

  "Faithful friend, noble heart!" said the king, "I should not have beenrescued. I have addressed my people and I have spoken to God; last ofall I speak to you. To maintain a cause which I believed sacred I havelost the throne and my children their inheritance. A million in goldremai
ns; it is buried in the cellars of Newcastle Keep. You only knowthat this money exists. Make use of it, then, whenever you think it willbe most useful, for my eldest son's welfare. And now, farewell."

  "Farewell, saintly, martyred majesty," lisped Athos, chilled withterror.

  A moment's silence ensued and then, in a full, sonorous voice, the kingexclaimed: "Remember!"

  He had scarcely uttered the word when a heavy blow shook the scaffoldand where Athos stood immovable a warm drop fell upon his brow. Hereeled back with a shudder and the same moment the drops became acrimson cataract.

  Athos fell on his knees and remained some minutes as if bewildered orstunned. At last he rose and taking his handkerchief steeped it in theblood of the martyred king. Then as the crowd gradually dispersed heleaped down, crept from behind the drapery, glided between two horses,mingled with the crowd and was the first to arrive at the inn.

  Having gained his room he raised his hand to his face, and observingthat his fingers were covered with the monarch's blood, fell downinsensible.