Now I am calm. All is finished--quite finished!
I am relieved from the dreadful anxiety into which I was thrown by the
Governor’s visit; for I confess I still felt hope. Now, thank Heaven!
hope is gone.
Let me record what has happened.
At half-past six the door of my cell was opened; an old man with white
hair entered, dressed in a brown great-coat. He unfastened it, and
beneath I saw the black cassock and bands of a priest. He was not the
usual Chaplain to the prison, and I thought this appeared ominous. He
seated himself opposite to me, with a quiet smile; then shook his head,
and raised his eyes to heaven. I understood him.
“My son!” said he, “are you prepared?”