"I was thinking that at five years old my daughter, whose head you are going to cut off, was the prettiest child I ever saw, with her fair hair and red cheeks. Who that saw her then would have said that--" She was silent for a moment, and then said, with a burst of indescribable laughter, "What a farce is destiny!" At this moment the last of her hair was cut off. "I have done, madame," said the executioner, politely. "Many thanks; and I recommend my son Nicholas to you," said the widow; "you will cut off his hair some day." A turnkey came in and said a few words to her in a low tone. "No,--I have already said no!" she answered, angrily. The priest hearing these words, and seeing any further interference useless, immediately withdrew. "Madame, we are all ready to go. Will you take anything?" inquired the executioner, civilly. "No, I thank you; this evening I shall take a mouthful of earth." And after this remark the widow rose firmly. Her hands were tied behind her back, and a rope was also attached to each ankle, allowing her sufficient liberty to walk. Although her step was firm and resolute, the executioner and his assistant offered to support her; but she turned to them disdainfully, and said, "Do not touch me, I have a steady eye and a firm foot, and they will hear on the scaffold whether or not I have a good voice." Calabash was carried away in a dying state. After having traversed the long corridor, the funereal cortege ascended a stone staircase, which led to an exterior court, where was a picquet of _gens-d'armes_, a hackney-coach, and a long, narrow carriage with a yellow body, drawn by three post-horses, who were neighing loudly. "We shall not be full inside," said the widow, as she took her seat. The two vehicles, preceded and followed by the picquet of _gens-d'armes_, then quitted the outer gate of Bicetre, and went quickly towards the Boulevard St. Jacques. CHAPTER X. MARTIAL AND THE CHOURINEUR. Before we proceed we have a few words to say as to the acquaintance recently established between the Chourineur and Martial. When Germain had left the prison, the Chourineur proved very easily that he had robbed himself; and making a statement of his motive for this singular mystification to the magistrate, he was set at liberty, after having been severely admonished. Desirous of recompensing the Chourineur for this fresh act of devotion, Rodolph, in order to realise the wishes of his rough protege, had lodged him in the hotel of the Rue Plumet, promising that he should accompany him on his return to Germany.