Their words grew more heated, and then, while they were still wrangling, the executioner came forward to solve matters with the news that the secretary had expired.

To Bellecour this proved a very welcome conclusion.
"Most opportunely!" he laughed "Had the rascal lived another minute I think we had quarrelled, Cadoux." He turned to the servant, "You are certain that it is so ?" he asked.
"Look, Monsieur," said the fellow, as he pointed with his whip to the pilloried figure of La Boulaye.

The Marquis looked, and saw that the secretary had collapsed, and hung limp in his bonds, his head fallen back upon his shoulders and his eyes closed.
With a shrug and a short laugh Bellecour turned to his daughter.
"You may take the carrion, if you want to.

But I think you can do no more than order it to be flung into a ditch and buried there." But she had no mind to be advised by him.

She had the young man's body cut down from the pump, and she bade a couple of servants convey it to the house of Master Duhamel, she for remembered that La Boulaye and the old pedagogue were friends.
"An odd thing is a woman's heart," grumbled the Marquis, who begrudged La Boulaye even his last act of mercy.