I was to be shot, not hanged.
I had a thrill of gratitude which I can not describe. It may seem
a nice distinction, but to me there were whole seas between the
two modes of death. I need not blush in advance for being shot--my
friends could bear that without humiliation; but hanging would have
always tainted their memory of me, try as they would against it.
"The gallows is ready, and my orders were to see him hanged,"
Mr. Lancy said.
"An order came at midnight that he should be shot," was Gabord's
reply, producing the order, and handing it over.
The officer contemptuously tossed it back, and now, a little
more courteous, ordered me against the wall, and I let my cloak
fall to the ground. I was placed where, looking east, I could see
the Island of Orleans, on which was the summer-house of the Seigneur
Duvarney. Gabord came to me and said, "M'sieu', you are a brave
man"--then, all at once breaking off, he added in a low, hurried
voice, "'Tis not a long flight to heaven, m'sieu'!" I could see his
face twitching as he stood looking at me. He hardly dared to turn
round to his comrades, lest his emotion should be seen. But the
officer roughly ordered him back. Gabord coolly drew out his watch,
and made a motion to me not to take off my cloak yet.
"'Tis not the time by six minutes," he said. "The gentleman is
to be shot to the stroke--aho!" His voice and manner were dogged.
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