"It is during the second when she passes before me that I receive the most profound impression, more even than at the actual moment of the firing." * * * * * "Harietta Boleski is beside the post. The bugles stop their mournful sound. They tie her to it, but not tightly, only so that her fall may not be too hard. A gendarme presents her with a bandeau for her eyes, which she pushes aside with scorn. "And when an officer reads the sentence, Harietta Boleski smiles." * * * * * "At twelve yards the platoon is lined up. The sentence has been read. "Madame Boleski embraces the Sister of Charity, who is very overcome. She even whispers a few words to comfort her. They stand back from the post. The adjutant who commands the platoon raises his sword--the rifles come in into position--two seconds--and the sword falls!" * * * * * "A salute!" * * * * * "Harietta Boleski is no more. "The fair body drops to earth and immediately an Adjutant of Dragoons goes swiftly to the post, revolver pointed, and gives the _coup de grace_. "_'Arme sur l'epaule--Droit. A droit. En avant. Marche!'_ "And we file past the corpse while the trumpets recommence to sound. "Harietta Boleski is lying down. She seems to be only reposing, so beautiful she looks. "The ball had entered her heart (we knew this later) so that her death has been instantaneous. "All the troops have defiled before her now. "We regain our quarters. "But as we file into the courtyard the sun gilds the highest window of the fortress. The day has begun." * * * * * Thus perished Harietta Boleski in the thirty-seventh year of her age--in the midst of the zest of life. The times are to strenuous for sentiment. So perish all spies! THE END