, had not yet
begun. Clinging to the transverse piece of the tall stone cross, which
stood at that side of the open square nearest the river, was a
forlorn, little, ragged boy, who had climbed up to it with the greatest
difficulty, and was holding on with all his might, his arms clasped
round the cross-piece and his legs round the upright, in a most painful
and precarious position. But nothing would have induced him to abandon
it, so long as he could possibly maintain himself there, no matter at
what cost of discomfort, or even actual distress, for from it he had
a capital view of the scaffold, and all its horribly fascinating
details--the wheel upon which the criminal was to revolve, the coil of
rope to bind him to it, and the heavy bar to break his bones.

If any one among the anxious crowd of spectators, however, had carefully
studied the small, thin countenance of the child perched up on the tall
stone cross, he would have discovered that its expression was by no
means that of vulgar curiosity. It was not simply the fierce attractions
of an execution that had drawn thither this wild, weird-looking young
creature, with his sun-burned complexion, great, flashing, dark eyes,
brilliant white teeth, unkempt masses of thick, black hair, and slender
brown hands--which were convulsively clinging to the rough, cold stone.
The delicacy of the features would seem to indicate a different sex from
the dress--but nobody paid any attention to the child, And all eyes
were turned towards the scaffold, or the direction from which the cart
bearing the condemned criminal was to come. Among the groups close
around the scaffold were several faces we have seen before; notably, the
chalky countenance and fiery red nose of Malartic, and the bold profile
of Jacquemin Lampourde, also several of the ruffians engaged in the
abduction of Isabelle, as well as various other habitues of the Crowned
Radish. The Place de Greve, to which sooner or later they were all
pretty sure to come and expiate their crimes with their lives, seemed to
exercise a singular fascination over murderers, thieves, and criminals
of all sorts, who invariably gathered in force to witness an execution.
They evidently could not resist it, and appeared to find a fierce
satisfaction in watching the terrible spectacle that they themselves
would some day probably furnish to the gaping multitude. Then the victim
himself always expected his friends' attendance--he would be hurt and