And at this moment, perhaps, Felton is paying with his head for the crime of this fury!" A shudder crept through the judges at the revelation of these unknown crimes.
"That is not all," resumed Lord de Winter.

"My brother, who made you his heir, died in three hours of a strange disorder which left livid traces all over the body.

My sister, how did your husband die ?" "Horror!" cried Porthos and Aramis.
"Assassin of Buckingham, assassin of Felton, assassin of my brother, I demand justice upon you, and I swear that if it be not granted to me, I will execute it myself." And Lord de Winter ranged himself by the side of d'Artagnan, leaving the place free for another accuser.
Milady let her head sink between her two hands, and tried to recall her ideas, whirling in a mortal vertigo.
"My turn," said Athos, himself trembling as the lion trembles at the sight of the serpent--"my turn.

I married that woman when she was a young girl; I married her in opposition to the wishes of all my family; I gave her my wealth, I gave her my name; and one day I discovered that this woman was branded--this woman was marked with a FLEUR-DE-LIS on her left shoulder." "Oh," said Milady, raising herself, "I defy you to find any tribunal which pronounced that infamous sentence against me.

I defy you to find him who executed it." "Silence!" said a hollow voice.