"I call upon the court," said the Procureur, rising, when he was
suddenly interrupted by the President, saying,--

"We will protect you, Monsieur le Procureur. And once again we would
admonish the accused, that insolence to the authorities of this court
is but a sorry plea in vindication of his innocence, and shall be no
recommendation to our mercy."

"Your mercy!" said George, in a voice of scorn and sarcasm. "Who ever
heard of a tiger's benevolence or a wolf's charity? And even if you
wished it, he whose slaves you are--"

"I call upon you to be silent," said an advocate, rising from a bench
directly behind him. "Another interruption of this kind, and I shall
abandon the defence."

"What?" said George, turning quickly round and staring at him with a
look of withering contempt; "and have they bought you over too?"

"Call the first witness," said the President; and an indistinct murmur
was heard, and a slight confusion seen to agitate the crowd, as the
gendarmes opened a path towards the witness bench. And then I saw two
men carrying something between them, which I soon perceived to be a man.
The legs, which were alone apparent, hung down listlessly like those of
a corpse; and one arm, which fell over the shoulder of the bearer, moved
to and fro, as they went, like the limb of a dead man. Every neck was
stretched from the galleries above, and along the benches beneath,
to catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure, which seemed like an
apparition from the grave come to give evidence. His face, too, was
concealed by a handkerchief; and as he was placed in a chair provided
for the purpose, the assistants stood at either side to support his
drooping figure.

"Let the witness be sworn," said the President; and, with the aid of an
officer of the court, a thin white hand was held up, on which the
flesh seemed almost transparent from emaciation. A low, muttering sound
followed, and the President spoke again,--"Let the witness be uncovered.
George Cadoudal, advance!"

As the hardy _Chouan_ stepped forward, the handkerchief fell from the
witness's face, while his head slowly turned round towards the prisoner.
A cry, like the yell of a wounded animal, broke from the stout Breton,
as he bounded into the air and held up both his arms to their full
height.

"Toi, toi!" screamed he, in accents that seemed the very last of a heart
wrung to agony, while he leaned forward and fixed his eyes on him, till
the very orbs seemed burs