The delay in progress was caused by the immense crowd blocking the court, only pushed aside by archers on horseback, who separated the people.  The marquise now went out, and the doctor, lest the sight of the people should completely distract her, put a crucifix in her hand, bidding her fix her gaze upon it.  This advice she followed till they gained the gate into the street where the tumbril was waiting; then she lifted her eyes to see the shameful object.  It was one of the smallest of carts, still splashed with mud and marked by the stones it had carried, with no seat, only a little straw at the bottom.  It was drawn by a wretched horse, well matching the disgraceful conveyance.

The executioner bade her get in first, which she did very rapidly, as if to escape observation.  There she crouched like a wild beast, in the left corner, on the straw, riding backwards.  The doctor sat beside her on the right.  Then the executioner got in, shutting the door behind him, and sat opposite her, stretching his legs between the doctor’s.  His man, whose business it was to guide the horse, sat on the front, back to back with the doctor and the marquise, his feet stuck out on the shafts.  Thus it is easy to understand how Madame de Sevigne, who was on the Pont Notre-Dame, could see nothing but the headdress of the marquise as she was driven to Notre-Dame.

The cortege had only gone a few steps, when the face of the marquise, for a time a little calmer, was again convulsed.  From her eyes, fixed constantly on the crucifix, there darted a flaming glance, then came a troubled and frenzied look which terrified the doctor.  He knew she must have been struck by something she saw, and, wishing to calm her, asked what it was.

“Nothing, nothing,” she replied quickly, looking towards him; “it was nothing.”

“But, madame,” said he, “you cannot give the lie to your own eyes; and a minute ago I saw a fire very different from the fire of love, which only some displeasing sight can have provoked.  What may this be?  Tell me, pray; for you promised to tell me of any sort of temptation that might assail you.”

“Sir,” she said, “I will do so, but it is nothing.”  Then, looking towards the executioner, who, as we know, sat facing the doctor, she said, “Put me in front of you, please; hide that man from me.”  And she stretched out her hands towards a man who was following the tumbril on horseback, and so dropped the torch, which the doctor took, and the crucifix, which fell on the floor.  The executioner looked back, and then turned sideways as she wished, nodding and saying, “Oh yes, I understand.”  The doctor pressed to know what it meant, and she said, “It is nothing worth telling you, and it is a weakness in me not to be able to bear the sight of a man who has ill-used me.  The man who touched the back of the tumbril is Desgrais, who arrested me at Liege, and treated me so badly all along the road.  When I saw him, I could not control myself, as you noticed.”