"
The Marquis put his hand on the grey hairs of the old butler, and moved
his lips, but he said nothing: the power of speech for the time failed
him; the energy he had displayed, and the excitement he had felt, had
been too much for him, and he was unable to reply aloud to the blessing
of his faithful servant.
"God bless you, Momont" said Agatha, calmly, as she stood close to her
father, still holding to his coat, and supporting his head against her
body. "Let your last thoughts be of the Saviour who died for you, and
so shall your death be only the end of all your troubles."
He was not allowed to remain longer on his knees, but was hurried back
to the spot where the women were awaiting their doom. The soldiers could
not get them to stand; they were crouching down on the ground in all
positions, one or two with their heads almost buried in the earth, one
or two kneeling, and still screaming for mercy. The old housekeeper had
fallen on her haunches, and was looking up to heaven, while she wildly
struck the ground with her hands; the poor page had made a last, but
futile effort to escape with the aid of his heels, but he had been at
once caught, and was now bound by his waist to a tree, which grew close
to the road on which the wretched party were huddled; the poor boy had
quite forgotten his attempt at manhood and mingled his loud screams with
those of the women.
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