“It will do,” replied the man, in a tremulous voice, “if you separate them across the neck.”
The king parted his hair with his hands, and looking at the block he said:
“This block is very low, is there no other to be had?”
“It is the usual block,” answered the man in the mask.
“Do you think you can behead me with a single blow?” asked the king.
“I hope so,” was the reply. There was something so strange in these three words that everybody, except the king, shuddered.
“I do not wish to be taken by surprise,” added the king. “I shall kneel down to pray; do not strike then.”
“When shall I strike?”
“When I shall lay my head on the block and say ‘Remember!’ then strike boldly.”
“Gentlemen,” said the king to those around him, “I leave you to brave the tempest; I go before you to a kingdom which knows no storms. Farewell.”