Alfred; or, The Adventures of a French Gentleman — page 83: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

66 OF A FRENCH GENTLEMAN. me to have recourse to an extremity seldom practised within these walls. You are assembled to witness the execution of a malefactor, not that mere idle curiosity may be gratified, nor because it 1s deemed indis- pensable that his blood be poured out in the presence of a crowd: O no! you are called hither from a far different motive. It is that the example may be a salutary one; that the mournful ceremony may be a warning to you for the future, and an useful lesson against giving way to the intemperance of the passions. But it is not my object to descant on this head. One amongst you must supply the place of him who is wanting: the ends of justice cannot be defeated by the petty evasions of a coward. Who, then, is hardy enough to volunteer? And as the office of executioner is rendered by man’s enermities a necessary one in the world, there has been a remuneration attached to it. In the present case, he that offers himself, shall be exempt from all labour durimg the remainder of his sojourn within these walls, shall dwell apart from the rest, and shall receive a certain sum for the performance of the functions of his office this day {” A cold sweat stood upon De Rosann’s brow at the termimation of this speech, which, despite of the tremulous tone in which it was delivered, appeared cold-blooded and expressive of a horrible greediness for human gore. But its purport necessarily gave it this savage appearance: in reality it was as mild as the subject would allow. An awful silence succeeded its delivery: the Governor gazed upon the multitude before him; and his heart entertained a hope that his words were futile. In that case Francois would be remanded to his dungeon; a due report would be made to the proper quarters; and the royal mercy was certain not to be demanded in vain. Scarcely a breath was drawn—the serried ranks of soldiers were as still as death—the convicts awaited the result in motionless anxiety; the sentries forbore to vary the silence with the noise of their paces to and fro on their respective posts—and the very breeze appeared to lult itself in unison with the rest. The priests muttered not a sound---the old man ventured to raise his head for an instant, and lift up his eyes to heaven to express his last hope. His lips moved—a minute had passed since the concluding syllables of the Governor's address were uttered and were dissipated in the air. A minute, at such a time and on such an occasion, was an age: suspense makes years of moments, centuries of hours. But no reply succeeded to the appeal: the bait held out allured not even one of those degraded beings: the treachery of Judas was not to be there purchased with the thirty pieces of silver. Nearly another minute elapsed: a hum of satisfaction commenced throughout the ranks of convicts; the old man, whose supplication had apparently been listened to and granted at the throne of eternal grace, smiled faintly ; the priests were about to begin a prayer of thanksgiving—the sentry had resumed his march—the Governor turned, with tears of satisfaction in his eyes, to remand Francois to his dungeon—and Belle-Rose ventured a joke at the expense of Champignon, to demonstrate his joy—when a convict, who was not manaeled, issued from the band, stepped quickly up to where the Commissary was standing, and cried in a firm tone of voice, “I accept your proffer, and am ready to do my duty!” The Governor retrograded a few paces, as if confronted by a wild beast, or EGomicbooksnco