The Washington times., 1911-01-02

murmuI AEosSt Shc
roar of a crowd. Ahead
of him was a dark, undulating mass.
Was this an illusion of the night?
No, these were men. At last! He
would no longer be alone in his ter
ror. He could elbow his way among
living human beings and brush
against them. He listened. A voice
rose above the roar of the crowd
sharp Kissing like gust of wind
blowing in dry leaves. The sky was
Frightening with the increasing day
light. The horrible agony of the night
and the insufferable solitude were
ended. He pushed his body against
other bodies. AT that moment the
throng parted as If to make way for
him. He walked on. Suddenly he
fell on his knees. In his terror he
had not seen where his course had
led him. Before him, above the
crowd, with two great outstretched
tentacles,H loomed the guillotine:
second he experienced the Joy of awak-
ening-the JOY of knowing that his hor'
rifying dream was not true. Then tol-
lowed a reality more fHghtful than MS
nightmare. Association of ideas guided
his fevered mind to thoughts OF the
gufnotine. Visions of the white blade
assaiLed him, and Of the basket in which
his severed head would be received. he
saw every detail clearly. He stuffed the
bed sheets into his mouth to stifie
scream. There would be no more peace.
full nights for him, no more tranquil
DAYS. No matter how hard he tried tc
think of the past of those whom he hac
loved, of what he had desired and hoped
the horrible thing Che did not dare te
think ofsthe word ''guillotine'D intruded
itself. ..
came to see him. He brought some
papers for Barton to sign-papers which
related to the appeal Barton SAID
uUgsaaRSs theIess' he. signed, After he had laid
down the pen he stared at his counsel
with hot. -fepertsh eyes and said: LIS
ten. Il have something to tell you.
Breathlessly. incoherently, punctu-
ating his words with abrupt nervous
the murder, of his dinner with Ledoux,
of his meeting the burglars, OF his
entrance into the house at 29 Boule-
ward Lannes and of his sudden idea
of deceiving the police by playing the
When he finished his tale the law
yer took his hand and said: mo, it's
hardly worth the trouble OF calling
attention to this. The court or ap-
peals win surely reverse the decision.
ming life all over again.
You think I'm lying, Barton cried.
I'm not. Do you hear me? I'm not
lying. Leave me alone. Get out! In
a frenzy of rage he threw himself
on the lawyer and screamed: Get
out! Can't you see that you're driving
me mad?" -'--
Alone again, a revulsion of feeling
overcame him, He was plunged in the
tdcrfks of despair. The very man who
vas Tlcdged 10 defend him refused
to believe in ris innocence. At the
same time, fear of death seized MIN.
and 20 6espera tely clutched at the
liltle remnant of life that was still
- = don't want to die! 1 have done
He was gentle, fear-stricken, sup
plant to all, as II the meanest Of bis
guards, might exert some influence
with the authorities in his favor and
save him from the scaffold.
When they put him into the prison
Of La Roquette his mental condition
changed for the worse. Until then he
had been able to forget the scaffold fol
a few seconds, but in La Roquette
where only those condemned to death
were incarcerated, the vision Of the gull.
lotine never forsook him. He constantly
saw the tall, gaunt structure or its ele-
waited platform as clearly as II It were
actually before his eyes. He tried &c
picture the murderers who had lived
In this cell and died under the knife
and who had slept In his bed and leaned
on the same tabe, contemplating with
sickening dread the approach of the last
day.
He was no longer like the rest of HUI
manity. He belonged to a distinct class
outcast from society and outcast al
most from life. His hair had been
cropped close and his mustache shaved
off. He no longer recognized himself
when he stroked his face. He had for.
gotten almost all words that did not de-
scribe in some way his coming death.
For hours he covered In a corner Of
his cell, leaning forward on his knees,
and watched an endless succession OF
frightful scenes, the figment of his dis
eased Imagination. He saw the last
night. the dawn and the ghastly place
Of execution, gray under the gray sky
the dripping roofs and the wet, shining
Pavement: but. above all, he saw the
''Tyidow," her immense, red. outstretched
arms. the toothless smile of her mouth
and above that mouth In which his
head would rest, the cleaning knift.
The chaplain came to see him every
kday. Gradually a superstitious fear,
the need of unbosoming himself and
Of being listened to. drove him to a
kind of piety, filed with dreadful WIS.,
IONS He no longer spoke, but lis
tened eagerly, gesturtng mechanical
iy1 now and then, clutching his thin
neck with His hands, and dropping
them suddenly as IL he felt the place
N.S.ra the knife would fall Yet he