Taking out two long, sharp knives, they struck two heavy blows on the Marionette’s back.

Happily for him, Pinocchio was made of very hard wood and the knives broke into a thousand pieces.  The Assassins looked at each other in dismay, holding the handles of the knives in their hands.

“I understand,” said one of them to the other, “there is nothing left to do now but to hang him.”

“To hang him,” repeated the other.

They tied Pinocchio’s hands behind his shoulders and slipped the noose around his neck.  Throwing the rope over the high limb of a giant oak tree, they pulled till the poor Marionette hung far up in space.

Satisfied with their work, they sat on the grass waiting for Pinocchio to give his last gasp.  But after three hours the Marionette’s eyes were still open, his mouth still shut and his legs kicked harder than ever.

Tired of waiting, the Assassins called to him mockingly:  “Good-by till tomorrow.  When we return in the morning, we hope you’ll be polite enough to let us find you dead and gone and with your mouth wide open.”  With these words they went.

A few minutes went by and then a wild wind started to blow.  As it shrieked and moaned, the poor little sufferer was blown to and fro like the hammer of a bell.  The rocking made him seasick and the noose, becoming tighter and tighter, choked him.  Little by little a film covered his eyes.

Death was creeping nearer and nearer, and the Marionette still hoped for some good soul to come to his rescue, but no one appeared.  As he was about to die, he thought of his poor old father, and hardly conscious of what he was saying, murmured to himself: 

“Oh, Father, dear Father!  If you were only here!”

These were his last words.  He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, stretched out his legs, and hung there, as if he were dead.

CHAPTER 16

The Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair sends for the poor Marionette, puts him to bed, and calls three Doctors to tell her if Pinocchio is dead or alive.

If the poor Marionette had dangled there much longer, all hope would have been lost.  Luckily for him, the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair once again looked out of her window.  Filled with pity at the sight of the poor little fellow being knocked helplessly about by the wind, she clapped her hands sharply together three times.

At the signal, a loud whirr of wings in quick flight was heard and a large Falcon came and settled itself on the window ledge.

“What do you command, my charming Fairy?” asked the Falcon, bending his beak in deep reverence (for it must be known that, after all, the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair was none other than a very kind Fairy who had lived, for more than a thousand years, in the vicinity of the forest).

“Do you see that Marionette hanging from the limb of that giant oak tree?”