ee together; 'and what if he were?'

'If he be,' rejoined the former speaker, 'we may go back again for our
pains! I ought to know him well; I was his orderly for eight months,
when I served in the "Legers," and can tell you, my lads, I wouldn't be
the officer who would bring him a report or a return to sign when once
he had opened out his napkin on his knee; and it's not very far from his
dinner-hour now.'

What a sudden thrill of hope ran through me! Perhaps I should be spared
for another day.

'No, no we're all in time,' exclaimed the sergeant; 'I can see the
general's tent from this; and there he stands, with all his staff around
him.'

'Yes; and there go the other escorts--they will be up before us if we
don't make haste; quick-time, lads. Come along, _mon cher,_' said he,
addressing me--'thou'rt not tired, I hope?'

'Not tired!' replied I; 'but remember, sergeant, what a long journey I
have before me.'

'_Pardi!_ I don't believe all that rhodomontade about another world,'
said he gruffly; 'the Republic settled that question.'

I made no reply, for such words, at such a moment, were the most
terrible of tortures to me. And now we moved on at a brisker pace, and
crossing a little wooden bridge, entered a kind of esplanade of closely
shaven turf, at one corner of which stood the capacious tent of the
Commander-in-chief, for such, in Moreau's absence, was General Berthier.
Numbers of staff-officers were riding about on duty, and a large
travelling-carriage, from which the horses seemed recently detached,
stood before the tent.

We halted as we crossed the bridge, while the adjutant advanced to
obtain the signature to the sentence. My eyes followed him till they
swam with rising tears, and I could not wipe them away, as my hands were
fettered. How rapidly did my thoughts travel during those few moments.
The good old Pere Michel came back to me in memory, and I tried to think
of the consolation his presence would have afforded me; but I could do
no more than think of them.

'Which is the prisoner Tiernay?' cried a young aide-decamp, cantering up
to where I was standing.

'Here, sir,' replied the sergeant, pushing me forward.

'So,' rejoined the officer angrily, 'this fellow has been writing
letters, it would seem, reflecting upon the justice of his sentence, and
arraigning the conduct of his judges. Your epistolary tastes are like to
cost you dearly, my lad; it had been better for you if writing had been