These noises mingled
with the gay laughter of the officers, as a few nights earlier the
dances of a ball had served to mask the preparations for a bloody
treachery. All eyes turned to the chateau and saw the noble family
advancing with inconceivable composure. Their faces were serene and
calm.
One member alone, pale, undone, leaned upon the priest, who spent his
powers of religious consolation upon this man,--the only one who was
to live. The executioner knew, as did all present, that Juanito had
agreed to accept his place for that one day. The old marquis and his
wife, Clara, Mariquita, and the two younger brothers walked forward
and knelt down a few steps distant from the fatal block. Juanito was
led forward by the priest. When he reached the place the executioner
touched him on the arm and gave him, probably, a few instructions. The
confessor, meantime, turned the victims so that they might not see the
fatal blows. But, like true Spaniards, they stood erect without
faltering.
Clara was the first to come forward.
"Juanito," she said, "have pity on my want of courage; begin with me.
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