A sound was heard at the door of the choir.  The doctor went to see what it was, and found a man who insisted on entering, all but fighting with the executioner.  The doctor approached and asked what was the matter.  The man was a saddler, from whom the marquise had bought a carriage before she left France; this she had partly paid for, but still owed him two hundred livres.  He produced the note he had had from her, on which was a faithful record of the sums she had paid on account.  The marquise at this point called out, not knowing what was going on, and the doctor and executioner went to her.  “Have they come to fetch me already?” said she.  “I am not well prepared just at this moment; but never mind, I am ready.”

The doctor reassured her, and told her what was going on.  “The man is quite right,” she said to the executioner; “tell him I will give orders as far as I can about the money.”  Then, 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.”