I asked them to let me write my last wishes; and they unbound my hands; but the cord is here, ready to be replaced. FORTY-SIXTH PAPER. A judge, a Commissioner, a Magistrate,--I know not what was his rank,--has just been here. I intreated him to procure my pardon; I begged it with clasped hands, and dragging myself on my knees at his feet. He asked, with a fatal smile, if that were all I had to say to him? “My pardon, my pardon!” I repeated. “Oh, for mercy’s sake, five minutes more! Who knows, my pardon may come. It is so horrible at my age to die in this manner. Reprieves have frequently arrived even at the last moment! And to whom would they show mercy, Sir, if not to me?” That detestable Executioner! He came in to tell the Judge that the execution was ordered for a certain hour, which hour was at hand, and that he was answerable for the event. “Oh, for mercy’s sake! five minutes to wait for my pardon,” cried I, “or I will defend myself.” The Judge and the Executioner went out. I am alone,--at least with only two gendarmes present. That horrible throng, with its hyena cry! Who knows but that I shall escape from it, that I shall be saved? If my pardon,--it is impossible but that they will pardon me! Hark! I hear some one coming upstairs! FOUR O’CLOCK. PREFACE OF M. VICTOR HUGO, TO THE RECENT EDITIONS OF “LE DERNIER JOUR D’UN CONDAMNÉ.” PREFACE. In the earlier editions of this work, published at first without the name of the author, the following lines formed the sole introduction to the subject:-- “There are two ways of accounting for the existence of the ensuing work. Either there really has been found a roll of papers on which were inscribed, exactly as they came, the last thoughts of a condemned prisoner; or else there has been an author, a dreamer, occupied in observing nature for the advantage of society, who, having been seized with those forcible ideas, could not rest until he had given them the tangible form of a volume.” * * * * * At the time when this book was first published, I did not deem fit to give publicity to the full extent of my thoughts; I preferred waiting to see whether the work would be fully understood, and I find such has been its fate.