“Yet he is punished more for a crime that he has not committed than he would have been if he had committed the crime!”
“But he had the intention of committing it.”
“And the intention was accounted as a fact—”
“That is perfectly just.”
“But it isn’t pretty to look at.”
And since they found themselves on rising ground, the two companions turned to contemplate for the last time the silhouette of the unfortunate.
Twenty minutes later they entered the little town where, save the mark! they were to receive certain moneys, and which they were to leave that evening in order to accomplish the return home that same night.
On the morrow, at break of day, the guards sallied out from the château of La Piroche for the purpose of taking down the corpse of the hanging man, from which they intended to recover the armor of the Seigneur, but they discovered something which they had been far from anticipating, that is to say, the gibbet was there, as always, but the hanged man was not there.
The two guards rubbed their eyes, believing themselves to be dreaming, but the thing was very real. No more hanged man, and naturally no more armor.
And what was extraordinary, the rope was neither broken nor cut, but just in the condition it was before receiving the condemned.