The others, standing behind him, were all silent, and the words of the Public Prosecutor fell like a knell. The condemned man, however, had not stirred, had not even seemed to understand: his attitude was that of a man in a state of somnambulism. The Public Prosecutor was surprised by this strange impassivity and spoke again, in strangled tones.
"Be brave! Be brave!"
A spasm crossed the face of the condemned man, and his lips moved as though he were making an effort to say something.
"I'm not——" he murmured.
But Deibler laid his hands upon the man's shoulders and cut the horrid moment short.
"Come now!"
The chaplain came forward in his turn.
"Pray, my brother," he said; "do you wish to hear mass?"
At the touch of the executioner the prisoner had trembled; he rose, like an automaton, with dilated eyes and twitching face. He understood what the chaplain said and took a step towards him.
"I—not——"