“Leave her those papers!” commanded Joseph Ribas who was present by order of the empress.  “She may keep them now—­they will directly be ours!”

“Oh, Paulo, I have kept the promise I made thee!” murmured Natalie.  She then implores to be allowed to read them, and Joseph Ribas grants her the desired permission.

With trembling hands she breaks the seal and reads by the light of a torch held up for her.  A melancholy smile flits over her features, and her arms fall powerless.

“Ah, they are the proofs of my imperial descent, nothing further.  How little is that, Paulo!”

And now lifting her up, they raise her high upon the backs of the executioners.

The knout whistles as it whirls through the air, the noble blood flows in streams.  She makes no complaint, she prays.  Only once, overcome by pain, only once she loudly screams:  “Mercy, mercy for the daughter of an empress!”