Читать книгу Under Sentence of Death - Виктор Мари Гюго, Clara Inés Bravo Villarreal - Страница 26

I know something of it.

I was driving by the Place de Grêve once, about eleven o’clock in the morning. All of a sudden the carriage stopped.

There was a crowd in the square. I put my head out of the door. Many women and children were standing in the parapets of the quay. Above their heads I could see a species of red scaffold which some workmen were putting together.

A man was to be executed that day, and they were erecting the machine.

I turned away my head as this caught my eye. I heard a woman near me saying, “Look! the knife does not slide well, they are greasing the groove with a bit of candle!”

Probably they are doing that now. Eleven o’clock is just striking. No doubt they are greasing the groove.

Ah! miserable wretch, this time I shall not turn away my head!