e
the Peers. The crowd of spectators was immense. There were five
prisoners, but the eyes of the spectators were fixed on only three.

The first was a man under-sized, nervous and quick in his movements.
His face, which was disfigured by recent scars, had an expression
of cunning and impudence. His forehead was narrow, his hair cropped
close, one corner of his mouth was disfigured by a scar, his smile
was insolent, and so was his whole bearing. He seemed anxious to
concentrate the attention of all present on himself, smiled and
bowed to every one he knew, and seemed well satisfied with his
odious importance.

The second was an old man, pale and ill. He bore himself with perfect
calmness. He seated himself where he was told to sit, and gave no
sign of emotion throughout the trial.

The third was utterly prostrated by fear.

The first was Fieschi; the second was called Morey; the third was
a grocer named Pepin.

The two last had been arrested on the testimony of Nina Lassave,
who had had Fieschi for her lover. The life of this man had been
always base and infamous. He was a Corsican by birth, and had been
a French soldier. He had fought bravely, but after his discharge he
had been imprisoned for theft and counterfeiting. He led a wandering
life from town to town, living on his wits and indulging all his
vices. He had even succeeded in getting some small favors from
Government; but finding that he could not long escape punishment
for crimes known to the police, he undertook, apparently without any
especial motive, the wholesale murder of king, court, and princes.

During his imprisonment his vanity had been so great that the officers
of the Crown played upon it in order to obtain confessions and
information.

The only witness against Morey was Nina Lassave, who insisted that,
Fieschi having invented the murderous instrument, Morey had devised
a use for it, and that Pepin had furnished the necessary funds
for its completion.

I give Louis Blanc's account of Fieschi's behavior on his trial,
because when foreign nations have reproached us for the scandal
of the license granted to the murderer of President Garfield on
his trial, I have never seen it remarked that Guiteau's conduct
was almost exactly like that of Fieschi.

"With effrontery, with a miserable kind of pride, and with smiles
of triumph on his lips, he alluded to his victims with theatrical
gesticulations, and plumed himself on the magnitude of his own