seeing the executioner retiring,
she said to the doctor, "Must I go now, sir? I wish they would give me a
little more time; for though I am ready, as I told you, I am not really
prepared. Forgive me, father; it is the question and the sentence that
have upset me it is this fire burning in my eyes like hell-flames.

"Had they left me with you all this time, there would now be better hope
of my salvation."

"Madame," said the doctor, "you will probably have all the time before
nightfall to compose yourself and think what remains for you to do."

"Ah, sir," she replied, with a smile, "do not think they will show so
much consideration for a poor wretch condemned to be burnt. That does
not depend on ourselves; but as soon as everything is ready, they will
let us know, and we must start."

"Madame," said the doctor, "I am certain that they will give you the time
you need."

"No, no," she replied abruptly and feverishly, "no, I will not keep them
waiting. As soon as the tumbril is at this door, they have only to tell
me, and I go down."

"Madame," said he, "I would not hold you back if I found you prepared to
stand before the face of God, for in your situation it is right to ask
for no time, and to go when the moment is come; but not everyone is so
ready as Christ was, who rose from prayer and awaked His disciples that
He might leave the garden and go out to meet His enemies. You at this
moment are weak, and if they come for you just now I should resist your
departure."

"Be calm; the time is not yet come," said the executioner, who had heard
this talk. He knew his statement must be believed, and wished as far as
possible to reassure the marquise. "There is no hurry, and we cannot
start for another two of three hours."

This assurance calmed the marquise somewhat, and she thanked the man.
Then turning to the doctor, she said, "Here is a rosary that I would
rather should not fall into this person's hands. Not that he could not
make good use of it; for, in spite of their trade, I fancy that these
people are Christians like ourselves. But I should prefer to leave this
to somebody else."

"Madame," said the doctor, "if you will tell me your wishes in this
matter, I will see that they are carried out."

"Alas!" she said, "there is no one but my sister; and I fear lest she,
remembering my crime towards her, may be too horrified to touch anything
that belonged to me. If she did not mind, it would be a great comf