tear
dropped from his eyes. Yesterday, when his dinner was brought, he took
the knife and looked at it musingly. One of the gendarmes intended to
take it from him, but Staps handed it at once, and said, smilingly,
'Fear nothing, I will not hurt myself with it; I will not waste my
blood; it is reserved for the altar of my country, and must be shed by
my enemies.'"

"Did he take any food?" asked the emperor.

"No, sire, he has not eaten or drunk any thing these two days. He says
he has done with life, and will have strength enough left to meet his
death with a firm step."

"He knows, then, that he is to be shot?"

"Yes, sire, he knows that the court-martial passed sentence of death
upon him last night."

"But I hope you told him, Duroc, that I had sent you to him, and that I
wished to pardon him, as soon as he repents of his deeds, implores my
forgiveness, and takes an oath to give up his evil designs? Did you tell
him all that, Duroc?"

"I did, sire."

"And what did he reply? Tell me every thing!"

"Sire, he replied, that if he could repent of the deed, he would not
have attempted it; that if he accepted pardon, all Germany would curse
him, while he now descends into the grave, accompanied by the blessings
and tears of his country; in fine, that his death will arouse the
Germans, and urge them to renewed efforts for liberty."

The emperor made no reply. His whole frame shuddered, and if Corvisart
had felt his pulse then, he would not have said that it was quite
regular. The large drops of perspiration on the emperor's brow might
have alarmed the physician.

"I am sure he is insane," said Napoleon, after a pause. "I want him to
be looked upon as a lunatic. I hope that the whole affair will remain a
secret, and that the world will hear nothing of it; but if it should be
talked about, we must insist that the man was insane."

Duroc bowed in silence.

"When is Staps to be shot?" asked the emperor, after a pause.

"Sire, this morning, at seven o'clock."

Napoleon glanced at the clock. "It is half-past six," he said; "I will
set out. Well, the Viennese will not hear the report of the muskets, for
the cannon that is to announce to them the conclusion of peace will
render inaudible the volley at the execution. Come, Duroc! I am tired of
this fantastic Germany! Let us return to France!"

Quickly crossing the room and approaching the door, he stood on the
threshold and glanced again at the clock. "It is a quar