When the man had explained that he had not been able to find any matches, the Recorder began to read the paper-- "Sourdeval!" he cried out. Other lanterns were now lighting up the courtyard and the distracted crowd, and every eye was turned in the direction of the prisoner who had been named. "Here I am!" cried a voice. And a man advanced, his head erect, calm and impassive, without casting a single glance on the spectators, knowing no one perhaps. He crossed the line of gendarmes, and disappeared behind the grating to fetch his belongings. The Recorder proceeded with his grim and gloomy task, drawing tears from some, heart-rending cries from others, and interrupted by murmurs of pity or defiance. The young de Maillé, who was called among the first, stopped playing with the children to go to his death. An old man, Monsieur de Mauclère, at the sound of his name fainted away, and was carried out. Madame de Narbonne, called also, confided her little daughter to Madame de Choiseul. "Where are you going, mamma?" asked the child. And Madame de Narbonne had the courage to reply-- "I shall be back in a moment, my darling." "Don't go, mamma! ... don't go! ... I don't want you to go!" Madame de Narbonne hurried away to hide her tears, then, breaking down entirely, leant on the grating and sobbed aloud. The Maleyssie family, father, mother, and two young girls, threw themselves into each other's arms, thanking heaven they were not to be separated in this supreme hour, and would walk hand in hand to the scaffold. An old couple with white hair, the Maréchal and Maréchale de Mouchy, worn with age, each walking with the aid of a stick, were called together. At once she took his arm, and so they made their way with calm courage through the prisoners, who bared their heads in reverence before such sublime resignation. Another couple drew forth cries of admiration: the Comte and Comtesse de Lavergne. The Comte, alone named, was taking leave of his wife, who, after assuring herself she was not on the list, implored the Recorder to include her. On his replying that he had no orders to do so, she uttered the cry of sedition punishable by death: "Vive le Roi!" and was inscribed forthwith on the fatal list. Olivier now held his mother pressed against him, while Marie Thérèse and Clarisse, nestling together, followed the terrible spectacle with joined hands. All hearts were moved to admiration or to pity, according to the acts of courage or faint-heartedness which were displayed. But brave deeds predominated. A Monsieur de Gournay, called out whilst engaged in filling his pipe on a bench, rose quietly and lit it at a turnkey's lantern, and went towards the gate without a word. The Comte de Broglie, interrupted in a game of chess with the Chevalier de Bar, as he rose pointed to the chess-board, and said-- "You see, you would have lost, chevalier. But cheer up! I shall let you have your revenge in the other world."