In it were a venerable priest, with a long white beard, who was holding a crucifix to the lips of the condemned man, seated beside him, the executioner, placed behind his victim, and holding the end of the rope that bound him, and an assistant, who was driving the poor old horse.

The criminal, whom every one turned to gaze at, was no other than our old acquaintance, Agostino, the brigand.
"Why, what is this!" cried de Sigognac, in great surprise.

"I know that man--he is the fellow who stopped us on the highway, and tried to frighten us with his band of scarecrows, as poor Matamore called them.

I told you all about it when we came by the place where it happened." "Yes, I remember perfectly," said Vallombreuse; "it was a capital story, and I had a good laugh over it.

But it would seem that the ingenious rascal has been up to something more serious since then--his ambition has probably been his ruin.