This first outburst over, the procession set out amid deep silence; only now and again same single voice would call out, “Farewell, Sand!” and a handkerchief waved by some hand that rose out of the crowd would show from what paint the last call came.  On each side of the chaise walked two of the prison officials, and behind the chaise came a second conveyance with the municipal authorities.

The air was very cold:  it had rained all night, and the dark and cloudy sky seemed to share in the general sadness.  Sand, too weak to remain sitting up, was half lying upon the shoulder of Mr. G-----, his companion; his face was gentle, calm and full of pain; his brow free and open, his features, interesting though without regular beauty, seemed to have aged by several years during the fourteen months of suffering that had just elapsed.  The chaise at last reached the place of execution, which was surrounded by a battalion of infantry; Sand lowered his eyes from heaven to earth and saw the scaffold.  At this sight he smiled gently, and as he left the carriage he said, “Well, God has given me strength so far.”

The governor of the prison and the chief officials lifted him that he might go up the steps.  During that short ascent pain kept him bowed, but when he had reached the top he stood erect again, saying, “Here then is the place where I am to die!”

Then before he came to the chair on which he was to be seated for the execution, he turned his eyes towards Mannheim, and his gaze travelled over all the throng that surrounded him; at that moment a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds.  Sand greeted it with a smile and sat down.

Then, as, according to the orders given, his sentence was to be read to him a second time, he was asked whether he felt strong enough to hear it standing.  Sand answered that he would try, and that if his physical strength failed him, his moral strength would uphold him.  He rose immediately from the fatal chair, begging Mr. G——­to stand near enough to support him if he should chance to stagger.  The precaution was unnecessary, Sand did not stagger.

After the judgment had been read, he sat down again and said in a laud voice, “I die trusting in God.”

But at these words Mr.  G------interrupted him.

“Sand,” said he, “what did you promise?”

“True,” he answered; “I had forgotten.”  He was silent, therefore, to the crowd; but, raising his right hand and extending it solemnly in the air, he said in a low voice, so that he might be heard only by those who were around him, “I take God to witness that I die for the freedom of Germany.”

Then, with these words, he did as Conradin did with his glove; he threw his rolled-up handkerchief over the line of soldiers around him, into the midst of the people.

Then the executioner came to cut off his hair; but Sand at first objected.

“It is for your mother,” said Mr. Widemann.