Throwing the rope over the high limb of a giant oak tree, they pulled till the poor Marionette hung far up in space.
Satisfied with their work, they sat on the grass waiting for Pinocchio to give his last gasp.

But after three hours the Marionette's eyes were still open, his mouth still shut and his legs kicked harder than ever.
Tired of waiting, the Assassins called to him mockingly: "Good-by till tomorrow.

When we return in the morning, we hope you'll be polite enough to let us find you dead and gone and with your mouth wide open." With these words they went.
A few minutes went by and then a wild wind started to blow.

As it shrieked and moaned, the poor little sufferer was blown to and fro like the hammer of a bell.

The rocking made him seasick and the noose, becoming tighter and tighter, choked him.