Athos stretched out his hand toward her.

“Charlotte Backson, Comtesse de la Fère, Milady de Winter,” said he, “your crimes have wearied men on earth and God in heaven. If you know a prayer, say it⁠—for you are condemned, and you shall die.”

At these words, which left no hope, Milady raised herself in all her pride, and wished to speak; but her strength failed her. She felt that a powerful and implacable hand seized her by the hair, and dragged her away as irrevocably as fatality drags humanity. She did not, therefore, even attempt the least resistance, and went out of the cottage.

Lord de Winter, d’Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, went out close behind her. The lackeys followed their masters, and the chamber was left solitary, with its broken window, its open door, and its smoky lamp burning sadly on the table.