Then Sand's face was lighted up by a strange joy; he sat up and said,
"Sir, you are welcome." Then, making his visitor sit down by his bed,
and taking his hand, he began to thank him for being so obliging, and
spoke in so intense a tone and so gentle a voice, that Mr. Widemann,
deeply moved, could not answer. Sand encouraged him to speak and to give
him the details for which he wished, and in order to reassure him, said,
"Be firm, sir; for I, on my part, will not fail you: I will not move; and
even if you should need two or three strokes to separate my head from my
body, as I am told is sometimes the case, do not be troubled on that
account."

Then Sand rose, leaning on Mr. G----, to go through with the executioner
the strange and terrible rehearsal of the drama in which he was to play
the leading part on the morrow. Mr. Widemann made him sit in a chair and
take the required position, and went into all the details of the
execution with him. Then Sand, perfectly instructed, begged him not to
hurry and to take his time. Then he thanked him beforehand; "for," added
he, "afterwards I shall not be able." Then Sand returned to his bed,
leaving the executioner paler and more trembling than himself. All these
details have been preserved by Mr. G----; for as to the executioner, his
emotion was so great that he could remember nothing.

After Mr. Widemann, three clergymen were introduced, with whom Sand
conversed upon religious matters: one of them stayed six hours with him,
and on leaving him told him that he was commissioned to obtain from him a
promise of not speaking to the people at the place of execution. Sand
gave the promise, and added, "Even if I desired to do so, my voice has
become so weak that people could not hear it."