“While the executioners and his two assistants were helping the prisoners out of the first cart, Madame de Noailles’ eyes sought for me in the crowd. She caught sight of me. What a wonderful expression there was in her face! Sometimes raised towards heaven, sometimes lowered towards earth, her eyes so animated, so gentle, so expressive, so heavenly, were often fixed on me in a manner which would have attracted notice if those around me had had time for observation. I pulled my hat over my eyes, without taking them off her. I felt as if I could hear her say: ‘Our sacrifice is accomplished! we have the firm and comforting hope that a merciful God is calling us to Him. How many dear to us we leave behind! but we shall forget no one. Farewell to them and thanks to you! Jesus Christ who died for us is our strength; may we die in Him! Farewell! May we all meet again in heaven!’ “It is impossible to give an idea of the animation and fervor of those signs, the eloquence of which was so touching that the bystanders exclaimed: ‘Oh, that young woman, how happy she seems! how she looks up to heaven! how she is praying! But what is the use of it all?’ And then, on second thoughts, ‘Oh, the rascals! the bigots!’ “The mother and daughter took a last farewell of each other and descended from the cart. As for me, the outer world disappeared for a moment. At once broken-hearted and comforted, I could only return thanks to God for not having waited for this moment to give them absolution, or, which would have been still worse, delayed it till they had ascended the scaffold. We could not have joined in prayer while I gave and they received this great blessing as we had been enabled to do in the most favorable circumstances possible at such a time. I left the spot where I was standing and went over to the other side while the victims were getting out. I found myself opposite the wooden steps which led to the scaffold. An old man, tall and straight, with white hair and a good-natured countenance, was leaning against it. I was told he was a _fermier-general_. Near him stood a very edifying lady whom I did not know. Then came the Maréchale de Noailles exactly opposite me, dressed in black, for she was still in mourning for her husband. She was sitting on a block of wood or stone which happened to be there, her large eyes fixed with a vacant look. I had not omitted to do for her what I had done for so many, and in particular for the Maréchal and Maréchale de Mouchy. All the others were drawn up in two lines looking towards the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.