The grotesque Scaevola, who had offered to the god of the Police and Terror the seat of his apricot breeches, opened the two sides of the box as if it had been a book, and slid three letters and two locks of hair upon the card-table.

He was about to smile at Corentin when he perceived that the locks were of two shades of gray.

Corentin released Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne's hands and went up to the table to read the letter from which the hair had fallen.
Laurence rose, moved to the table beside the spies, and said:--"Read it aloud; that shall be your punishment." As the two men continued to read to themselves, she herself read out the following words:-- Dear Laurence,--My husband and I have heard of your noble conduct on the day of our arrest.

We know that you love our dear twins as much, almost, as we love them ourselves.

Therefore it is with you that we leave a token which will be both precious and sad to them.
The executioner has come to cut our hair, for we are to die in a few moments; he has promised to put into your hands the only remembrance we are able to leave to our beloved orphans.