But De Thou, embracing and consoling his friend, answered, raising his eyes from the ground: 

“Ah, happy are we to end our days in this manner!  Humanly speaking, I might complain of you; but God knows how much I love you.  What have we done to merit the grace of martyrdom, and the happiness of dying together?”

The judges were not prepared for this mildness, and looked at each other with surprise.

“If they would only give me a good partisan,” muttered a hoarse voice (it was Grandchamp, who had crept into the room, and whose eyes were red with fury), “I would soon rid Monseigneur of all these black-looking fellows.”  Two men with halberds immediately placed themselves silently at his side.  He said no more, and to compose himself retired to a window which overlooked the river, whose tranquil waters the sun had not yet lighted with its beams, and appeared to pay no attention to what was passing in the room.

However, Laubardemont, fearing that the judges might be touched with compassion, said in a loud voice: 

“In pursuance of the order of Monseigneur the Cardinal, these two men will be put to the rack; that is to say, to the ordinary and extraordinary question.”

Indignation forced Cinq-Mars again to assume his natural character; crossing his arms, he made two steps toward Laubardemont and Joseph, which alarmed them.  The former involuntarily placed his hand to his forehead.

“Are we at Loudun?” exclaimed the prisoner; but De Thou, advancing, took his hand and held it.  Cinq-Mars was silent, then continued in a calm voice, looking steadfastly at the judges: 

“Messieurs, this measure appears to me rather harsh; a man of my age and rank ought not to be subjected to these formalities.  I have confessed all, and I will confess it all again.  I willingly and gladly accept death; it is not from souls like ours that secrets can be wrung by bodily suffering.  We are prisoners by our own free will, and at the time chosen by us.  We have confessed enough for you to condemn us to death; you shall know nothing more.  We have obtained what we wanted.”

“What are you doing, my friend?” interrupted De Thou.  “He is mistaken, gentlemen, we do not refuse this martyrdom which God offers us; we demand it.”

“But,” said Cinq-Mars, “do you need such infamous tortures to obtain salvation—­you who are already a martyr, a voluntary martyr to friendship?  Gentlemen, it is I alone who possess important secrets; it is the chief of a conspiracy who knows all.  Put me alone to the torture if we must be treated like the worst of malefactors.”

“For the sake of charity,” added De Thou, “deprive me not of equal suffering with my friend; I have not followed him so far, to abandon him at this dreadful moment, and not to use every effort to accompany him to heaven.”