“And I,” cried Cinq-Mars, despite the interdiction to speak, “swear to you by this gold cross you see, and by the Holy Mary, to die rather than renounce the plan that you first traced out!  You may one day, perhaps, be forced to pray me to stop; but then it will be too late.”

“Very well!” repeated the counsellor, “now sleep; if you do not stop, I will go on with you, wherever you lead me.”

And, taking a prayer-book from his pocket, he began to read attentively; in a short time he looked at Cinq-Mars, who was still awake.  He made a sign to Grandchamp to put the lamp out of sight of the invalid; but this new care succeeded no better.  The latter, with his eyes still open, tossed restlessly on his narrow bed.

“Come, you are not calm,” said De Thou, smiling; “I will read to you some pious passage which will put your mind in repose.  Ah, my friend, it is here that true repose is to be found; it is in this consolatory book, for, open it where you will, you will always see, on the one hand, man in the only condition that suits his weakness—­prayer, and the uncertainty as to his destiny—­and, on the other, God himself speaking to him of his infirmities!  What a glorious and heavenly spectacle!  What a sublime bond between heaven and earth!  Life, death, and eternity are there; open it at random.”

“Yes!” said Cinq-Mars, rising with a vivacity which had something boyish in it; “you shall read to me, but let me open the book.  You know the old superstition of our country—­when the mass-book is opened with a sword, the first page on the left contains the destiny of him who reads, and the first person who enters after he has read is powerfully to influence the reader’s future fate.”

“What childishness!  But be it as you will.  Here is your sword; insert the point.  Let us see.”

“Let me read myself,” said Cinq-Mars, taking one side of the book.  Old Grandchamp gravely advanced his tawny face and his gray hair to the foot of the bed to listen.  His master read, stopped at the first phrase, but with a smile, perhaps slightly forced, he went on to the end.

“I.  Now it was in the city of Milan that they appeared.

“II.  The high-priest said to them, ‘Bow down and adore the gods.’

“III.  And the people were silent, looking at their faces, which appeared as the faces of angels.

“IV.  But Gervais, taking the hand of Protais, cried, looking to heaven, and filled with the Holy Ghost: 

“V.  Oh, my brother!  I see the Son of man smiling upon us; let me die first.

“VI.  For if I see thy blood, I fear I shall shed tears unworthy of the Lord our God.

“VII.  Then Protais answered him in these words: 

“VIII.  My brother, it is just that I should perish after thee, for I am older, and have more strength to see thee suffer.

“IX.  But the senators and people ground their teeth at them.

“X.  And the soldiers having struck them, their heads fell together on the same stone.