ocious clamor upon
a single victim, and each man strikes his blow, this dreadful species of
combined murder appears less horrible to each, because they all share in
the common crime; and then the shouts, the sight of blood, the desperate
defence of the man they massacre, finish by producing a sort of
ferocious intoxication; but, amongst all those furious madmen, who take
part in the homicide, select one, and place him face to face with the
victim, no longer capable of resistance, and say to him, "Strike!"--he
will hardly ever dare to do so.

It was thus with the quarryman; the wretch trembled at the idea of
committing a murder in cold blood, "all alone." The preceding scene had
passed very rapidly; amongst the companions of the quarryman, nearest
to the railing, some did not understand an impression, which they would
themselves have felt as strongly as this bold man, if it had been said
to them: "Do the office of executioner!" These, therefore, began to
murmur aloud at his weakness. "He dares not finish the poisoner," said
one.

"The coward!"

"He is afraid."

"He draws back." Hearing these words, the quarryman ran to the gate,
threw it wide open, and, pointing to Father d'Aigrigny, exclaimed: "If
there is one here braver than I am, let him go and finish the job--let
him be, the executioner--come!"

On this proposal the murmurs ceased. A deep silence reigned once more in
the cathedral. All those countenances, but now so furious, became sad,
confused, almost frightened.

The deluded mob began to appreciate the ferocious cowardice of the
action it had been about to commit. Not one durst go alone to strike the
half expiring man. Suddenly, Father d'Aigrigny uttered a dying rattle,
his head and one of his arms stirred with a convulsive movement, and
then fell back upon the stones as if he had just expired.

Gabriel uttered a cry of anguish, and threw himself on his knees close
to Father d'Aigrigny, exclaiming: "Great Heaven! he is dead!"

There is a singular variableness in the mind of a crowd, susceptible
alike to good or evil impressions. At the heart-piercing cry of Gabriel,
all these people, who, a moment before, had demanded, with loud uproar,
the massacre of this man, felt touched with a sudden pity. The words:
"He is dead!" circulated in low whispers through the crowd accompanied
by a slight shudder, whilst Gabriel raised with one hand the victim's
heavy head, and with the other sought to feel if the pulse s