iscussed
tete-a-tete. Farewell, then, my father; God will reward you for the
attention you have been willing to bestow upon me."

With these words the father retired, leaving the marquise alone with the
doctor and the two men and one woman always in attendance on her. They
were in a large room in the Montgomery tower extending, throughout its
whole length. There was at the end of the room a bed with grey curtains
for the lady, and a folding-bed for the custodian. It is said to have
been the same room where the poet Theophile was once shut up, and near
the door there were still verses in his well-known style written by his
hand.

As soon as the two men and the woman saw for what the doctor had come,
they retired to the end of the room, leaving the marquise free to ask
for and receive the consolations brought her by the man of God. Then the
two sat at a table side by side. The marquise thought she was already
condemned, and began to speak on that assumption; but the doctor told
her that sentence was not yet given, and he did not know precisely
when it would be, still less what it would be; but at these words the
marquise interrupted him.

"Sir," she said, "I am not troubled about the future. If my sentence is
not given yet, it soon will be. I expect the news this morning, and I
know it will be death: the only grace I look for from the president is
a delay between the sentence and its execution; for if I were executed
to-day I should have very little time to prepare, and I feel I have need
for more."

The doctor did not expect such words, so he was overjoyed to learn what
she felt. In addition to what the president had said, he had heard from
Father Chavigny that he had told her the Sunday before that it was very
unlikely she would escape death, and indeed, so far as one could judge
by reports in the town, it was a foregone conclusion. When he said so,
at first she had appeared stunned, and said with an air of great terror,
"Father, must I die?" And when he tried to speak words of consolation,
she had risen and shaken her head, proudly replying--

"No, no, father; there is no need to encourage me. I will play my part,
and that at once: I shall know how to die like a woman of spirit."

Then the father had told her that we cannot prepare for death so quickly
and so easily; and that we have to be in readiness for a long time,
not to be taken by surprise; and she had replied that she needed but a
quarter of an hour to c