  The days in prison for Harietta, before and after her trial, were days of frenzied terror, alternating with incredulity. She would not believe that she was to die. Stanislass and Ferdinand, and even Verisschenzko, would save her! She loathed the hard bed at St. Lazare, and the discomfort, and the ugliness, and the Sister of Charity! She spent hours tramping her cell like a wild beast in a cage. She would roar with inarticulate fury, and cry aloud to her husband, and her lovers, one after another, and then she would cower in a corner, shaking with fear. The greatest pain of all was the thought that StÉpan and Amaryllis would marry and be happy. Once or twice foam gathered at the corners of her lips when she thought of this. If she could have reached Marie, that would have given her some satisfaction—to tear out her eyes! For Ferdinand Ardayre had told her how Marie had given her up, working quietly until she had all necessary proofs, and then denouncing her. When Stanislass had returned from the Club, whither she had despatched him for the evening, so that she might be free to dine with Verisschenzko, he found that she had already been taken away. The shock, when he discovered that nothing could be done, had nearly killed him—he now lay dangerously ill in a Maison de SantÉ, happily unconscious of events. For Ferdinand Ardayre the blow had fallen with crushing force. The one strong thing in his weak nature was his passion for Harietta—and to be robbed of her in such a way! He battled impotently against fate, unable even to try to use any means in his possession to get the death sentence commuted, because he was too deeply implicated himself to make any stir. He saw her in the prison after the trial, with the bars between and the warders near. And the awful change in Tier paralysed him with grief. On the morrow she was to die—the usual death of a spy. Her hair was wild and her face without rouge was haggard and wan. She implored him to save her. The frightful pain of knowing that he could do nothing made Ferdinand desperate, and then suddenly he became inspired with an idea. He could at all events remove some of the agony of terror from her, and enable her to go to her death without a hideous scene. He remembered "La Tosca"—the same method might serve again! He managed to whisper to her in broken sentences that she would certainly be saved. The plan was all prepared, he assured her. The rifles would contain blank cartridges, and she must pretend to fall—and afterwards he would come, having bribed every one and made the path smooth. He lied so fervently that Harietta was convinced, her material brain catching at any straw. She must dress herself and look her best, he told her, so as to make an impression upon all the men concerned; and then, when he had to leave her, he arranged with the prison doctor that she might receive a strong piqÛre of morphine, so that she would be serene. She spent the night dreaming quite happily and at four o'clock was awakened and began to dress. The drug had calmed all her terrors and her dramatic instinct held full sway. She arranged her toilet with the utmost care, using all her arts to beautify herself. In her ears were Stanislass' ruby earrings and she wore StÉpan's ring and brooch. Death to her was an impossibility—she had never seen any one die. It was a wonderfully fine part she would have to play, with Ferdinand there really going to save her! That was all! She must even be sweet at last to the poor sister, whom she had snarled at hitherto. If she could only have seen StÉpan once more! Stanislass and his broken life and fond devotion never gave her a thought or troubled her at all. After she was free, she would find some means to pay out Hans! She hated him. If it had not been for Hans and his tiresome old higher command with their stupid intrigues, she would still be free. That she had betrayed countries—that she was guilty in any way never presented itself to her mind. All Verisschenzko's passionate indictment had fallen upon unheeding ears. The morphine now left her only sufficiently conscious for fundamental instincts to act. She felt that she was a beautiful woman going to be the chief figure in a wonderfully dramatic scene. Nothing solemn had touched her. Her brain was light and now only filled with cunning and coqueterie; she meant to charm her guards and executioners to the last man! And ready at length, she walked nonchalantly out of the prison and into the waiting car which was to carry her to Vincennes. Now the end of all this is best told in the words of a young French soldier who was an eye witness and wrote the whole thing down. To pen the hideous horror I find too difficult a task. "Sunday—11 in the evening. "We had only returned at that moment from our day's leave, when the Lieutenant came to us to announce that we should be of the piquet to-morrow morning for the execution of Madame Boleski, the spy. "He said this to us in his monotonous voice as though he had been saying 'To-morrow—Revue d'Armes'—but for us, after a whole day passed far from barracks, it was a rather brusque return to military realities! "At once it became necessary that we look through our accountrements for the show. No small affair! and for more than an hour there was brushing and polishing of straps and buckles. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning before we could turn in. "Many of us could not sleep—we are all between eighteen and nineteen years old, and the idea to see a woman killed agitated us. But little by little the whole band dozed." "Monday morning. "At four o'clock—reveille. We dress in haste in the dark. Ten minutes later we all find ourselves in the courtyard. "'A droit alignement couvres sur deux.' "The Lieutenant made the call." * * * * * "The detachment moves off in the night, marching in slow cadence—that step which so peculiarly gives the impression of restrained force and condensed power. "We leave the fort and gain the artillery butts—true landscape of the front! Trenches, stripped trees, abandoned wagons! "And in the middle of all that—our silhouettes of carbines, casques and sacs. "Absolute silence. "We stop—we advance—and suddenly in the dawn which has begun, we arrive at our destination—the execution ground. "'Cannoniers—halte! Couvres sur deux. A droite alignement.'" "A rattle of arms. And there in front of us, at hardly fifteen yards, we catch sight of the post. "Up till now we had scarcely felt anything—just startled impressions, almost of curiosity, but now I begin to experience the first strong sensation. "The post! Symbol of all this sinister ceremony. A short post—not higher than one's shoulder! There it stands in front of the shooting butts. And to think that nearly every Monday—" * * * * * "Now the troops from the Square, which is in reality rectangular, the shooting butt constituting one of its sides. Then in the grim dawn we wait quietly for what is to come. One after another, we see several automobiles approach, and each time we ask ourselves, 'Is not this the condemned?' "No—they are journalists—officers—avocats—and presently a hearse, out of which is lifted the coffin. "The undertakers' men, who presently will proceed to the business of placing the body there, laugh and talk together as they sit and smoke. They are old habituÉs!" "One was cold standing still! It begins to be quite light. The condemned one may arrive at any moment, because the execution has been fixed for exactly at the rising of the sun. "The men of the platoon load their rifles. The number of them is twelve—four sergeants, four corporals, four soldiers. "And then there are the Chasseurs À pied." "All of a sudden, two more cars appear, escorted by a company of dragoons. "This time it is She. "They stop—out of the first one, officers descend. The Commissaire of the Government who has, condemned Madame Boleski to death and who had gone a little more than an hour ago to awake her in her cell. The Captain, reporter, and two other Captains. The door of the second auto opens, two gendarmes get out—a Sister of St. Lazare (what a terrible mÉtier for her!)—and then Harietta Boleski! "And at once, accompanied by the nun and followed by the gendarmes, she penetrates into the square of men. "Until now we have been enduring a period of waiting, we have been asking ourselves if it will have an effect upon us—but now we have no more doubt. The effect has begun! "'Present arms!' "All together we render honour to the dead woman—for one considers a person condemned as already dead. And the bugles begin to play the March—Do sol do do Sol do do, Mi mi mi— "They play slowly—very softly and in the minor key. "Harietta Boleski walks quickly, the sister can hardly keep by her side. She is tall, beautiful, very elegant. A large hat with floating lace veil thrown back and splendid earrings. A dark dress—pretty shoes. "She looks at the troops and the piquet d'exÉcution a little disdainfully, and then she smiles gaily—it is almost a titter. The sister taps her gently on the shoulder, as if to recall her to a sense of order, but she makes one careless gesture and walks up to the post. "The bugles are sounding plaintively, slowly and more slowly all the time. "She pauses in front of us—and with us it is now, 'Does this make us feel something?' We must hold ourselves not to grow faint. "To see this woman go by with the trumpets sounding ever. To say to ourselves that in sixty seconds she will be no more. There will be no life in that beautiful body. Ah! that is an emotion, believe me! "Never has the great problem been brought more forcibly before my spirit. "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'Épaule—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***** Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and PG Distributed Proofreaders Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work. 1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem. 1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. |
|
