on the days mentioned by
the tradesman.

"I will pass over the terrible testimony of children on the choice of
dainties and the care which he took to have them eat the things in his
presence, and to remove the slightest traces.

"Public indignation demanded capital punishment, and it became more and
more insistent, overturning all objections.

"Moiron was condemned to death, and his appeal was rejected. Nothing was
left for him but the imperial pardon. I knew through my father that the
emperor would not grant it.

"One morning, as I was working in my study, the visit of the prison
almoner was announced. He was an old priest who knew men well and
understood the habits of criminals. He seemed troubled, ill at ease,
nervous. After talking for a few minutes about one thing and another, he
arose and said suddenly: 'If Moiron is executed, monsieur, you will have
put an innocent man to death.'

"Then he left without bowing, leaving me behind with the deep impression
made by his words. He had pronounced them in such a sincere and
solemn manner, opening those lips, closed and sealed by the secret of
confession, in order to save a life.

"An hour later I left for Paris, and my father immediately asked that I
be granted an audience with the emperor.

"The following day I was received. His majesty was working in a little
reception room when we were introduced. I described the whole case, and
I was just telling about the priest's visit when a door opened behind
the sovereign's chair and the empress, who supposed he was alone,
appeared. His majesty, Napoleon, consulted her. As soon as she had heard
the matter, she exclaimed: 'This man must be pardoned. He must, since he
is innocent.'

"Why did this sudden conviction of a religious woman cast a terrible
doubt in my mind?

"Until then I had ardently desired a change of sentence. And now I
suddenly felt myself the toy, the dupe of a cunning criminal who had
employed the priest and confession as a last means of defence.

"I explained my hesitancy to their majesties. The emperor remained
undecided, urged on one side by his natural kindness and held back on
the other by the fear of being deceived by a criminal; but the empress,
who was convinced that the priest had obeyed a divine inspiration, kept
repeating: 'Never mind! It is better to spare a criminal than to kill an
innocent man!' Her advice was taken. The death sentence was commuted to
one of hard labor.

"A few years l