La Mole raised his head and turned his eyes towards the little tower.
"Adieu, Marguerite," said he; "bless"—
He never finished. With one blow of his sword, as swift as a stroke of lightning, Caboche severed the head, which rolled to the feet of Coconnas.
The body fell back gently as if going to rest.
A great cry rose from thousands of voices, and, among them, it seemed to Coconnas that he heard a shriek more piercing than all the rest.
"Thank you, my good friend," said Coconnas, and a third time he extended his hand to the hangman.
"My son," said the priest, "have you nothing to confess to God?"
"Faith no, father," said the Piedmontese; "all that I had to say I said to you yesterday."
Then turning to Caboche:
"Now, executioner, my last friend, one more favor!"