"When I am on the point of yielding up my soul to God, I wish to assure you of my affection for you, which I shall feel until the last moment of my life.I ask your pardon for all that I have done contrary to my duty.I am dying a shameful death, the work of my enemies: I pardon them with all my heart, and I pray you to do the same.I also beg you to forgive me for any ignominy that may attach to you herefrom; but consider that we are only here for a time, and that you may soon be forced to render an account to God of all your actions, and even your idle words, just as I must do now.Be mindful of your worldly affairs, and of our children, and give them a good example; consult Madame Marillac and Madame Couste.Let as many prayers as possible be said for me, and believe that in my death I am still ever yours, D'AUBRAY."The doctor read this letter carefully; then he told her that one of her phrases was not right--the one about her enemies."For you have no other enemies," said he, "than your own crimes.Those whom you call your enemies are those who love the memory of your father and brothers, whom you ought to have loved more than they do.""But those who have sought my death," she replied, "are my enemies, are they not, and is it not a Christian act to forgive them?""Madame," said the doctor, "they are not your enemies, but you are the enemy of the human race: nobody can think without, horror of your crimes.""And so, my father," she replied, "I feel no resentment towards them, and I desire to meet in Paradise those who have been chiefly instrumental in taking me and bringing me here.""Madame," said the doctor, "what mean you by this? Such words are used by some when they desire people's death.Explain, I beg, what you mean.""Heaven forbid," cried the marquise, "that you should understand me thus! Nay, may God grant them long prosperity in this world and infinite glory in the next! Dictate a new letter, and I will write just what you please."When a fresh letter had been written, the marquise would attend to nothing but her confession, and begged the doctor to take the pen for her."I have done so many wrong thing's," she said, "that if I only gave you a verbal confession, I should never be sure I had given a complete account."Then they both knelt down to implore the grace of the Holy Spirit.
They said a 'Veni Creator' and a 'Salve Regina', and the doctor then rose and seated himself at a table, while the marquise, still on her knees, began a Confiteor and made her whole confession.At nine o'clock, Father Chavigny, who had brought Doctor Pirot in the morning, came in again.The marquise seemed annoyed, but still put a good face upon it."My father," said she, "I did not expect to see you so late; pray leave me a few minutes longer with the doctor." He retired." Why has he come?" asked the marquise.
"It is better for you not to be alone," said the doctor.
"Then do you mean to leave me?" cried the marquise, apparently terrified.
"Madame, I will do as you wish," he answered; "but you would be acting kindly if you could spare me for a few hours.I might go home, and Father Chavigny would stay with you.""Ah!" she cried, wringing her hands, "you promised you would not leave me till I am dead, and now you go away.Remember, I never saw you before this morning, but since then you have become more to me than any of my oldest friends.""Madame," said the good doctor, "I will do all I can to please you.
If I ask for a little rest, it is in order that I may resume my place with more vigour to-morrow, and render you better service than Iotherwise could.If I take no rest, all I say or do must suffer.
You count on the execution for tomorrow; I do not know if you are right; but if so, to-morrow will be your great and decisive day, and we shall both need all the strength we have.We have already been working for thirteen or fourteen hours for the good of your salvation; I am not a strong man, and I think you should realise, madame, that if you do not let me rest a little, I may not be able to stay with you to the end.""Sir," said the marquise, "you have closed my mouth.To-morrow is for me a far more important day than to-day, and I have been wrong:
of course you must rest to-night.Let us just finish this one thing, and read over what we have written."It was done, and the doctor would have retired; but the supper came in, and the marquise would not let him go without taking something.
She told the concierge to get a carriage and charge it to her.She took a cup of soup and two eggs, and a minute later the concierge came back to say the carriage was at the door.Then the marquise bade the doctor good-night, making him promise to pray for her and to be at the Conciergerie by six o'clock the next morning.This he promised her.
The day following, as he went into the tower, he found Father Chavigny, who had taken his place with the marquise, kneeling and praying with her.The priest was weeping, but she was calm, and received the doctor in just the same way as she had let him go.When Father Chavigny saw him, he retired.The marquise begged Chavigny to pray for her, and wanted to make him promise to return, but that he would not do.She then turned to the doctor, saying, "Sir, you are punctual, and I cannot complain that you have broken your promise;but oh, how the time has dragged, and how long it has seemed before the clock struck six!""I am here, madame," said the doctor; "but first of all, how have you spent the night?""I have written three letters," said the marquise, "and, short as they were, they took a long time to write: one was to my sister, one to Madame de Marillac, and the third to M.Couste.I should have liked to show them to you, but Father Chavigny offered to take charge of them, and as he had approved of them, I could not venture to suggest any doubts.After the letters were written, we had some conversation and prayer; but when the father took up his breviary and I my rosary with the same intention, I felt so weary that I asked if I might lie on my bed; he said I might, and I had two good hours'
