to the officer, and upon his refusal, uttered such pitiable
cries that the officer told him that if he continued to deafen him thus,
he should put a gag in his mouth.

This measure somewhat reassured Bonacieux. If they meant to execute him
at La Greve, it could scarcely be worth while to gag him, as they had
nearly reached the place of execution. Indeed, the carriage crossed the
fatal spot without stopping. There remained, then, no other place to
fear but the Traitor's Cross; the carriage was taking the direct road to
it.

This time there was no longer any doubt; it was at the Traitor's Cross
that lesser criminals were executed. Bonacieux had flattered himself in
believing himself worthy of St. Paul or of the Place de Greve; it was at
the Traitor's Cross that his journey and his destiny were about to end!
He could not yet see that dreadful cross, but he felt somehow as if it
were coming to meet him. When he was within twenty paces of it, he heard
a noise of people and the carriage stopped. This was more than poor
Bonacieux could endure, depressed as he was by the successive emotions
which he had experienced; he uttered a feeble groan which night have
been taken for the last sigh of a dying man, and fainted.

14 THE MAN OF MEUNG

The crowd was caused, not by the expectation of a man to be hanged, but
by the contemplation of a man who was hanged.

The carriage, which had been stopped for a minute, resumed its way,
passed through the crowd, threaded the Rue St. Honore, turned into the
Rue des Bons Enfants, and stopped before a low door.

The door opened; two guards received Bonacieux in their arms from the
officer who supported him. They carried him through an alley, up a
flight of stairs, and deposited him in an antechamber.

All these movements had been effected mechanically, as far as he was
concerned. He had walked as one walks in a dream; he had a glimpse
of objects as through a fog. His ears had perceived sounds without
comprehending them; he might have been executed at that moment without
his making a single gesture in his own defense or uttering a cry to
implore mercy.

He remained on the bench, with his back leaning against the wall and his
hands hanging down, exactly on the spot where the guards placed him.

On looking around him, however, as he could perceive no threatening
object, as nothing indicated that he ran any real danger, as the bench
was comfortably covered with a well-stuffed cushion,