“Decapitation of Cinq Mars. When I tell you that he was a man of a taste, charming!
“Through this garden, by these statues, up these stairs, went the pale figure of him who, the porter said, knew the way of the house. He did. Turning neither right nor left, he seemed to walk THROUGH the statues, the obstacles, the flower-beds, the stairs, the door, the tables, the chairs.
“In the corner of the room was THAT INSTRUMENT, which Guillotin had just invented and perfected. One day he was to lay his own head under his own axe. Peace be to his name! With him I deal not!
“In a frame of mahogany, neatly worked, was a board with a half-circle in it, over which another board fitted. Above was a heavy axe, which fell—you know how. It was held up by a rope, and when this rope was untied, or cut, the steel fell.
“To the story which I now have to relate, you may give credence, or not, as you will. The sleeping man went up to that instrument.
“He laid his head in it, asleep.”
“Asleep?”
“He then took a little penknife out of the pocket of his white dimity waistcoat.
“He cut the rope asleep.
“The axe descended on the head of the traitor and villain. The notch in it was made by the steel buckle of his stock, which was cut through.