they
were cutting off his hair, he raised his eyes to heaven, and said,
sighing:

"'My God, what is this world? My God, I offer thee my death as a
satisfaction for my sins!'

"'What are you waiting for? What are you doing there?' he said to
the executioner, who had not yet taken his axe from an old bag he
had brought with him. His confessor, approaching, gave him a
medallion; and he, with an incredible tranquillity of mind, begged
the father to hold the crucifix before his eyes, which he would not
allow to be bound. I saw the two trembling hands of the Abbe
Quillet, who raised the crucifix. At this moment a voice, as clear
and pure as that of an angel, commenced the 'Ave, maris stella'.
In the universal silence I recognized the voice of M. de Thou, who
was at the foot of the scaffold; the people repeated the sacred
strain. M. de Cinq-Mars clung more tightly to the stake; and I saw
a raised axe, made like the English axes. A terrible cry of the
people from the Place, the windows, and the towers told me that it
had fallen, and that the head had rolled to the ground. I had
happily strength enough left to think of his soul, and to commence a
prayer for him.

"I mingled it with that which I heard pronounced aloud by our
unfortunate and pious friend De Thou. I rose and saw him spring
upon the scaffold with such promptitude that he might almost have
been said to fly. The father and he recited a psalm; he uttered it
with the ardor of a seraphim, as if his soul had borne his body to
heaven. Then, kneeling down, he kissed the blood of Cinq-Mars as
that of a martyr, and became himself a greater martyr. I do not
know whether God was pleased to grant him this last favor; but I saw
with horror that the executioner, terrified no doubt at the first
blow he had given, struck him upon the top of his head, whither the
unfortunate young man raised his hand; the people sent forth a long
groan, and advanced against the executioner. The poor wretch,
terrified still more, struck him another blow, which only cut the
skin and threw him upon the scaffold, where the executioner rolled
upon him to despatch him. A strange event terrified the people as
much as the horrible spectacle. M. de Cinq-Mars' old servant held
his horse as at a military funeral; he had stopped at the foot of
the scaffold, and like a man paralyzed, watched his m