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Rh Nychol, I implore you, spare my life ! I shall soon be restored to favor, and I will do whatever you may ask—" "You can do me but one service, Turiaf," broke in the hangman. "I have lost two executions already upon which I counted the most, those of ex-chancellor Schumacker and the viceroy's son. I am always unlucky. You and Hans of Iceland are all that are left. Your execution, being secret and by night, is worth at least twelve gold ducats to me. Let me hang you peaceably, that is the only favor I ask of you."

"Oh, God !" sighed the prisoner.

"It will be the first and last, in good sooth; but, in return. I promise that you shall not suffer. I will hang you like a brother; submit to your fate."

Musdoemon sprang to his feet; his nostrils were distended with rage; his livid lips quivered; his teeth chattered; his mouth foamed with despair.

"Satan ! I saved that d'Ahlefeld ; I have embraced my brother, and they murder me ! And I must die this very night in a dark dungeon, where none can hear my curses : where I may not cry out against them from one end of the kingdom to the other ; where I may not tearasunder the veil that hides their crimes ! Was it for such a death that I have stained my entire life? Wretch !" he added, turning to his brother, "would you become a fratricide?"

" I am the executioner," answered the phlegmatic Nychol.

"No!" exclaimed the prisoner ; and he flung himself headlong upon the executioner, his eyes darting flame and