United States or Poland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Leave those poor young people alone. It would be sacrilege to trouble their last moments together on earth by our presence." Pere Courtois, without a word, opened the door of the adjoining cell. Valensolle, Jayat and Ribier entered it, and the door was closed upon them. Then, making a sign to Charlotte, Courtois himself went away. The lovers were alone.

"Pardon me, gentlemen," he said, springing from his horse, "I claim a place among my three friends, the Vicomte de Jayat, the Comte de Valensolle, and the Marquis de Ribier." The three prisoners gave a cry of admiration and held out their hands to their friend. The two wounded men lifted themselves up on their litters, and murmured: "Well done, Sainte-Hermine, well done!"

"Raoul-Frederic-Auguste de Valensolle, born at Sainte-Colombe, department of the Rhone, aged twenty-seven." "Pierre-Hector de Ribier, born at Bollene, department of Vaucluse, aged twenty-six." Questioned as to their social condition and state, all four said they were of noble rank and royalists.

Valensolle and Ribier, who were playing a species of quoits with crown-pieces and louis, left off their game to hear the news. Having heard it they returned to their game without remark.

Ribier closed his eyes without uttering a word. When the three bodies had been removed, the officer of the gendarmerie addressed Morgan. "Are you ready, sir?" he asked. "Yes," replied Morgan, bowing with exquisite politeness. "Then come." "I come." And he took his place between a platoon of gendarmerie and a detachment of dragoons. "Will you mount the cart, sir, or go on foot?" asked the captain.

Baptiste slammed the door after him; then, addressing the man in the top-boots: "Everything is paid to Valence, isn't it, relays and fees?" he asked. "Everything; do you want a receipt?" replied the postilion, jokingly. "No; but my master, the Marquise de Ribier, don't want to be disturbed until he gets to Valence."

Amelie saw at a glance the whole interior of the cell, and the persons in it. Valensolle was standing, leaning against the wall, and still holding the book from which he had just read the lines that Amelie had overheard. Jayat was seated near a table with his head resting on his hands. Ribier was sitting on the table itself.

The worthy jailer seemed more grieved and distressed at his second appearance than at his first; but Morgan and Amelie thanked him with a smile. He went to the cell where the others were locked up and opened it, murmuring to himself: "Faith! It would have been hard if they couldn't have been alone together on their last night." Valensolle, Jayat and Ribier returned.

Once in the carriage the pretended Marquis of Ribier opened the window, lowered the blinds, raised the seat, put his valise in the hollow, sat down on it, wrapped himself in his cloak, and, certain of not being disturbed till he reached Valence, slept as he had breakfasted, that is to say, with all the appetite of youth. They went from Orange to Valence in eight hours.

The crowd was mute, paralyzed with horror. It was now Ribier's turn. He advanced to the gate, and, once there, aimed the two pistols he held at the gendarmes. He did not fire, but the gendarmes did. Three or four shots were heard, and Ribier fell, pierced by two balls. Admiration seized upon the spectators at sight of these successive catastrophes.