flint vices are the mode once more: see here."

As he spoke he undid a silk handkerchief that was wrapped around his
wrist, and exhibited a hand that seemed actually smashed into fragments;
the bones were forced in many places through the flesh, which hung in
dark-colored and blood-stained pieces about.

"I would show that hand at the tribunal," muttered an old soldier in a
faded blue frock; "I'd hold it up when they 'd ask me to swear."

"Your head would only fare the worse for doing so," said the Abbe. "Read
on Monsieur Duchos."

"Oh, where was I? (_Pardieu!_ Colonel, I wish you would cover that up;
I shall dream of that terrible thumb all night.) Here we are: 'Though
nothing could be learned from Picot, it was ascertained that the
brigand--'"

"Ha, ha!" said a fat little fellow in a blouse, "they call them all
brigands: Moreau is a brigand; Pichegru is a brigand too."

"'That the brigand had passed Monday night near Chaillot, and on
Tuesday, towards evening, was seen at Sainte-Genevieve, where it was
suspected he slept on the mountain; on Wednesday the police traced him
to the cabriolet stand at the end of the Rue de Conde, where he took a
carriage and drove towards the Odeon.'"

"Probably he was going to the spectacle. What did they play that night?"
said the fat man; "'La Mort de Barberousse,' perhaps."

The other read on: "'The officer cried out, as he seized the bridle,
"Je vous arrete!" when George levelled a pistol and shot him through the
forehead, and then springing over the dead body dashed down the street.
The butchers of the neighborhood, who knew the reward offered for
his apprehension, pursued and fell upon him with their hatchets; a
hand-to-hand encounter followed, in which the brigand's wrist was nearly
severed from his arm; and thus disabled and overpowered, he was secured
and conveyed to the Temple.'"

"And who is this man?" said I in a whisper to the tall person near me."

"The General George Cadoudal,--a brave Breton, and a faithful follower
of his King," replied he; "and may Heaven have pity on him now!" He
crossed himself piously as he spoke, and moved slowly away.

"General Cadoudal!" repeated I to myself; "the same whose description
figured on every wall of the capital, and for whose apprehension immense
rewards were offered." And with an inward shudder I thought of my chance
intercourse with the man to harbor whom was death,--the dreaded chief of
the Chouans, the daring Breton of