very close, especially at the nape of the neck.

"This makes the third time in my life," continued the widow, with a
dismal smile, "that I have had my head dressed by a professor: when I
took my first communion the white veil was arranged; then on my
marriage, when the orange-flowers were placed there; and upon the
present occasion; upon my word, I hardly know which became me most. You
cannot guess what I am thinking of?" resumed the widow, addressing the
executioner, after having again contemplated her daughter.

But the man made her no sort of answer, and no sound was heard but that
of the scissors, and the sort of convulsive and hysterical sob that
occasionally escaped from Calabash.

At this moment a venerable priest approached the governor, and addressed
him in a low, earnest voice, the import of which was to express his
desire to make another effort to rescue the souls of the condemned.

"I was thinking that at five years old my daughter, whose head you are
going to cut off, was the prettiest child I ever saw, with her fair hair
and red cheeks. Who that saw her then would have said that--" She was
silent for a moment, and then said, with a burst of indescribable
laughter, "What a farce is destiny!"

At this moment the last of her hair was cut off.

"I have done, madame," said the executioner, politely.

"Many thanks; and I recommend my son Nicholas to you," said the widow;
"you will cut off his hair some day." A turnkey came in and said a few
words to her in a low tone. "No,--I have already said no!" she answered,
angrily.

The priest hearing these words, and seeing any further interference
useless, immediately withdrew.

"Madame, we are all ready to go. Will you take anything?" inquired the
executioner, civilly.

"No, I thank you; this evening I shall take a mouthful of earth." And
after this remark the widow rose firmly. Her hands were tied behind her
back, and a rope was also attached to each ankle, allowing her
sufficient liberty to walk. Although her step was firm and resolute, the
executioner and his assistant offered to support her; but she turned to
them disdainfully, and said, "Do not touch me, I have a steady eye and a
firm foot, and they will hear on the scaffold whether or not I have a
good voice." Calabash was carried away in a dying state.

After having traversed the long corridor, the funereal cortege ascended
a stone staircase, which led to an exterior court, where was a picquet
of _g