e is dead."

"Won't you, at least, open the door for me?" cried Pinocchio in a
beseeching voice.

"I also am dead."

"Dead? What are you doing at the window, then?"

"I am waiting for the coffin to take me away."

After these words, the little girl disappeared and the window closed
without a sound.

"Oh, Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair," cried Pinocchio, "open, I beg of
you. Take pity on a poor boy who is being chased by two Assass--"

He did not finish, for two powerful hands grasped him by the neck and
the same two horrible voices growled threateningly: "Now we have you!"

The Marionette, seeing death dancing before him, trembled so hard that
the joints of his legs rattled and the coins tinkled under his tongue.

"Well," the Assassins asked, "will you open your mouth now or not? Ah!
You do not answer? Very well, this time you shall open it."

Taking out two long, sharp knives, they struck two heavy blows on the
Marionette's back.

Happily for him, Pinocchio was made of very hard wood and the knives
broke into a thousand pieces. The Assassins looked at each other in
dismay, holding the handles of the knives in their hands.

"I understand," said one of them to the other, "there is nothing left to
do now but to hang him."

"To hang him," repeated the other.

They tied Pinocchio's hands behind his shoulders and slipped the noose
around his neck. Throwing the rope over the high limb of a giant oak
tree, they pulled till the poor Marionette hung far up in space.

Satisfied with their work, they sat on the grass waiting for Pinocchio
to give his last gasp. But after three hours the Marionette's eyes were
still open, his mouth still shut and his legs kicked harder than ever.

Tired of waiting, the Assassins called to him mockingly: "Good-by till
tomorrow. When we return in the morning, we hope you'll be polite enough
to let us find you dead and gone and with your mouth wide open." With
these words they went.

A few minutes went by and then a wild wind started to blow. As it
shrieked and moaned, the poor little sufferer was blown to and fro
like the hammer of a bell. The rocking made him seasick and the noose,
becoming tighter and tighter, choked him. Little by little a film
covered his eyes.

Death was creeping nearer and nearer, and the Marionette still hoped
for some good soul to come to his rescue, but no one appeared. As he was
about to die, he thought of his poor old father, and hardly conscious of
w