"To die without having done the harm you intended to do, that is the really terrible thing, is it not?"
The commander-in-chief was alive! The hideous and tremendous plot had failed! He was alive and so were his officers and so was every one of the spy's enemies. Paul Delroze, Stéphane d'Andeville, Bernard, Élisabeth, those whom she had pursued with her indefatigable hatred: they were all there! She was about to die gazing at the vision, so horrible for her, of her enemies reunited and happy.
And above all she was about to die with the thought that everything was lost. Her great dream was shattered to pieces. Her Emperor's throne was tottering. The very soul of the Hohenzollerns was departing with the Comtesse Hermine. And all this was plainly visible in her haggard eyes, from which gleams of madness flashed at intervals.
The general said to one of those with him:
"Have you given the order? Are they shooting the lot?"
"Yes, this evening, sir."
"Very well, we'll begin with this woman. And at once. Here, where we are."
The spy gave a start. With a distortion of all her features she succeeded in shifting her gag; and they heard her beseeching for mercy in a torrent of words and moans.
"Let us go," said the commander-in-chief.
He felt two burning hands press his own. Élisabeth was leaning towards him and entreating him with tears.