"Now the troops from the Square, which is in reality rectangular, the shooting butt constituting one of its sides. Then in the grim dawn we wait quietly for what is to come. One after another, we see several automobiles approach, and each time we ask ourselves, 'Is not this the condemned?'
"No—they are journalists—officers—avocats—and presently a hearse, out of which is lifted the coffin.
"The undertakers' men, who presently will proceed to the business of placing the body there, laugh and talk together as they sit and smoke. They are old habitués!"
"One was cold standing still! It begins to be quite light. The condemned one may arrive at any moment, because the execution has been fixed for exactly at the rising of the sun.
"The men of the platoon load their rifles. The number of them is twelve—four sergeants, four corporals, four soldiers.
"And then there are the Chasseurs à pied."
"All of a sudden, two more cars appear, escorted by a company of dragoons.
"This time it is She.
"They stop—out of the first one, officers descend. The Commissaire of the Government who has, condemned Madame Boleski to death and who had gone a little more than an hour ago to awake her in her cell. The Captain, reporter, and two other Captains. The door of the second auto opens, two gendarmes get out—a Sister of St. Lazare (what a terrible métier for her!)—and then Harietta Boleski!
"And at once, accompanied by the nun and followed by the gendarmes, she penetrates into the square of men.