244 BAILLY. 
a long time with his nephew. The young man was a 
prey to despair, but the illustrious prisoner preserved all 
his serenity. The previous evening in returning from the 
Tribunal, he remarked, with admirable coolness, though 
springing from a certain disquietude, “that the specta- 
tors of his trial had been strongly excited against him. 
I fear,” he added, “that the mere execution of the sen- 
tence will no longer satisfy them, which might be danger- 
ous in its consequences. Perhaps the police will provide 
against it.” These reflections having recurred to Bailly’s 
mind on the 12th, he asked for, and drank hastily, two 
cups of coffee without milk. These precautions were a 
sinisteromen. To his friends who surrounded him at this 
awful moment, and were sobbing aloud, he said, “ Be 
calm; I have rather a difficult journey to perform, and I 
distrust my constitution. Coffee excites and reanimates ; 
I hope, however, to reach the end properly.” 
Noon had just struck. Bailly addressed a last and 
tender adieu to his companions in captivity, wished them 
a better fate, followed the executioner without weakness 
as well as without bravado, mounted the fatal cart, his 
hands tied behind his back. Our colleague was accus- 
tomed to say: “ We must entertain a bad opinion of those 
who, in their dying moments, have not a look to cast be- 
hind them.” LBailly’s last look was towards his wife. A 
gendarme of the escort feelingly listened to his last words, 
and faithfully repeated them to his widow. ‘The proces- 
sion reached the entrance to the Champ de Mars, on the 
side towards the river, at a quarter past one o’clock. 
This was the place where, according to the words of the 
sentence, the scaffold had been raised. ‘The blinded 
erowd collected there, furiously exclaimed that the sacred 
ground of the Champ de la Fédération should not be 
