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Updated: June 6, 2025
The Salle des Gardes of St. Louis, has a roof which strikes terror into the heart, it is so old and grim. In one part of the building there is a low prison-room, where those persons condemned to death spend their last hours, fastened down to a straight waistcot. The little room in which Marie Antoinette was confined, is still shown to the visitor.
"When Henri awoke, he was surprised to find it was daylight; he sat up and looked around him on the prison-room; it was a large and airy room, receiving light from a window strongly grated with iron.
He could see the low-lying, sunless afternoon sky, all gray and cheerless; the gray, complaining sea creeping up on the greasy shingle; the desolate expanse of road; the tongue of marshland; the strip of black pine woods all that could be seen from the window. The prison-room looked drear and bleak; the fire on the hearth was smoldering away to black ashes; the untasted meal stood on the table.
While we were thus conversing together the doors of the prison-room were opened, and a man was let in who had a cruisie in the one hand and a basket in the other.
The sun had again set, and the dim lamp shed around its fitful and shadowy lights from the table of the prison-room, when the maiden, who had carried the letter to the laird's mother, again entered. "This is kind, very kind, gentle maiden," said he; "would that I could reward ye! An' hoo fares it with my puir mother? what answer does she send?"
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