“Madame,” said the doctor, “it in no way affects your soul’s salvation whether your body is cast into the fire and reduced to ashes or whether it is buried in the ground and eaten by worms, whether it is drawn on a hurdle and thrown upon a dung-heap, or embalmed with Oriental perfumes and laid in a rich man’s tomb.  Whatever may be your end, your body will arise on the appointed day, and if Heaven so will, it will come forth from its ashes more glorious than a royal corpse lying at this moment in a gilded casket.  Obsequies, madame, are for those who survive, not for the dead.”

A sound was heard at the door of the choir.  The doctor went to see what it was, and found a man who insisted on entering, all but fighting with the executioner.  The doctor approached and asked what was the matter.  The man was a saddler, from whom the marquise had bought a carriage before she left France; this she had partly paid for, but still owed him two hundred livres.  He produced the note he had had from her, on which was a faithful record of the sums she had paid on account.  The marquise at this point called out, not knowing what was going on, and the doctor and executioner went to her.  “Have they come to fetch me already?” said she.  “I am not well prepared just at this moment; but never mind, I am ready.”

The doctor reassured her, and told her what was going on.  “The man is quite right,” she said to the executioner; “tell him I will give orders as far as I can about the money.”  Then, seeing the executioner retiring, she said to the doctor, “Must I go now, sir?  I wish they would give me a little more time; for though I am ready, as I told you, I am not really prepared.  Forgive me, father; it is the question and the sentence that have upset me it is this fire burning in my eyes like hell-flames.

“Had they left me with you all this time, there would now be better hope of my salvation.”

“Madame,” said the doctor, “you will probably have all the time before nightfall to compose yourself and think what remains for you to do.”

“Ah, sir,” she replied, with a smile, “do not think they will show so much consideration for a poor wretch condemned to be burnt.  That does not depend on ourselves; but as soon as everything is ready, they will let us know, and we must start.”

“Madame,” said the doctor, “I am certain that they will give you the time you need.”

“No, no,” she replied abruptly and feverishly, “no, I will not keep them waiting.  As soon as the tumbril is at this door, they have only to tell me, and I go down.”

“Madame,” said he, “I would not hold you back if I found you prepared to stand before the face of God, for in your situation it is right to ask for no time, and to go when the moment is come; but not everyone is so ready as Christ was, who rose from prayer and awaked His disciples that He might leave the garden and go out to meet His enemies.  You at this moment are weak, and if they come for you just now I should resist your departure.”