"It is further declared that all and each of their possessions, real
and personal, be confiscated to the King, and that those which they
hold from the crown do pass immediately to it again of the aforesaid
goods, sixty thousand livres being devoted to pious uses."

After the sentence was pronounced, M. de Thou exclaimed in a loud voice:

"God be blessed! God be praised!"

"I have never feared death," said Cinq-Mars, coldly.

Then, according to the forms prescribed, M. Seyton, the lieutenant of
the Scotch guards, an old man upward of sixty years of age, declared
with emotion that he placed the prisoners in the hands of the Sieur
Thome, provost of the merchants of Lyons; he then took leave of them,
followed by the whole of the body-guard, silently, and in tears.

"Weep not," said Cinq-Mars; "tears are useless. Rather pray for us; and
be assured that I do not fear death."

He shook them by the hand, and De Thou embraced them; after which they
left the apartment, their eyes filled with tears, and hiding their faces
in their cloaks.

"Barbarians!" exclaimed the Abbe Quillet; "to find arms against them,
one must search the whole arsenal of tyrants. Why did they admit me at
this moment?"

"As a confessor, Monsieur," whispered one of the commissioners; "for no
stranger has entered this place these two months."

As soon as the huge gates of the prison were closed, and the outside
gratings lowered, "To the terrace, in the name of Heaven!" again
exclaimed Grandchamp. And he drew his master and De Thou thither.

The old preceptor followed them, weeping.

"What do you want with us in a moment like this?" said Cinq-Mars, with
indulgent gravity.

"Look at the chains of the town," said the faithful servant.

The rising sun had hardly tinged the sky. In the horizon a line of vivid
yellow was visible, upon which the mountain's rough blue outlines were
boldly traced; the waves of the Saline, and the chains of the town
hanging from one bank to the other, were still veiled by a light vapor,
which also rose from Lyons and concealed the roofs of the houses from
the eye of the spectator. The first tints of the morning light had as
yet colored only the most elevated points of the magnificent landscape.
In the city the steeples of the Hotel de Ville and St. Nizier, and on
the surrounding hills the monasteries of the Carmelites and Ste.-Marie,
and the entire fortress of Pierre-Encise were gilded with the fires
of the comin