“But the Comte de la Fere?” asked the king.

“Two feet below you; take the poker from the fireplace and strike three times on the floor.  He will answer you.”

The king did so, and the moment after, three muffled knocks, answering the given signal, sounded beneath the floor.

“So,” said Charles, “he who knocks down there ——­ "

“Is the Comte de la Fere, sire,” said Aramis.  “He is preparing a way for your majesty to escape.  Parry, for his part, will raise this slab of marble and a passage will be opened.”

“Oh, Juxon,” said the king, seizing the bishop’s two hands in his own, “promise that you will pray all your life for this gentleman and for the other that you hear beneath your feet, and for two others also, who, wherever they may be, are on the watch for my safety.”

“Sire,” replied Juxon, “you shall be obeyed.”

Meanwhile, the miner underneath was heard working away incessantly, when suddenly an unexpected noise resounded in the passage.  Aramis seized the poker and gave the signal to stop; the noise came nearer and nearer.  It was that of a number of men steadily approaching.  The four men stood motionless.  All eyes were fixed on the door, which opened slowly and with a kind of solemnity.

A parliamentary officer, clothed in black and with a gravity that augured ill, entered, bowed to the king, and unfolding a parchment, read the sentence, as is usually done to criminals before their execution.

“What is this?” said Aramis to Juxon.

Juxon replied with a sign which meant that he knew no more than Aramis about it.

“Then it is for to-day?” asked the king.

“Was not your majesty warned that it was to take place this morning?”

“Then I must die like a common criminal by the hand of the London executioner?”

“The London executioner has disappeared, your majesty, but a man has offered his services instead.  The execution will therefore only be delayed long enough for you to arrange your spiritual and temporal affairs.”

A slight moisture on his brow was the only trace of emotion that Charles evinced, as he learned these tidings.  But Aramis was livid.  His heart ceased beating, he closed his eyes and leaned upon the table.  Charles perceived it and took his hand.

“Come, my friend,” said he, “courage.”  Then he turned to the officer.  “Sir, I am ready.  There is but little reason why I should delay you.  Firstly, I wish to communicate; secondly, to embrace my children and bid them farewell for the last time.  Will this be permitted me?”

“Certainly,” replied the officer, and left the room.

Aramis dug his nails into his flesh and groaned aloud.

“Oh! my lord bishop,” he cried, seizing Juxon’s hands, “where is Providence? where is Providence?”

“My son,” replied the bishop, with firmness, “you see Him not, because the passions of the world conceal Him.”