t uttering a word.

Very different was the reception their Majesties gave to the Prince de la
Paix

[Manuel Godoi, born at Badajos, 1767. A common soldier, he
became the queen's lover, and the virtual ruler of Spain; died in
Paris, 1851.]

when he joined them at Bayonne, and he might have been taken for the
nearest and dearest relative of their Majesties. All three wept freely
on meeting again; at least, this is what I was told by a person in the
service--the same, in fact, who gave me all the preceding details.

At five o'clock his Majesty the Emperor came to visit the King and Queen
of Spain; and during this interview, which was very long, the two
sovereigns informed his Majesty of the insults they had received, and the
dangers they had encountered during the past month. They complained
greatly of the ingratitude of so many men whom they had overwhelmed with
kindness, and above all of the guard which had so basely betrayed them.
"Your Majesty," said the king, "does not know what it is to be forced to
commiserate yourself on account of your son. May Heaven forbid that such
a misfortune should ever come to you! Mine is the cause of all that we
have suffered."

The Prince de la Paix had come to Bayonne accompanied by Colonel Martes,
aide-de-camp of Prince Murat, and a valet de chambre, the only servant
who had remained faithful to him. I had occasion to talk with this
devoted servant, who spoke very good French, having been reared near
Toulouse; and he told me that he had not succeeded in obtaining
permission to remain with his master during his captivity, and that this
unfortunate prince had suffered indescribable torments; that not a day
passed without some one entering his dungeon to tell him to prepare for
death, as he was to be executed that very evening or the next morning.
He also told me that the prisoners were left sometimes for thirty hours
without food; that he had only a bed of straw, no linen, no books, and no
communication with the outside world; and that when he came out of his
dungeon to be sent to Colonel Marts, he presented a horrible appearance,
with his long beard, and emaciated frame, the result of mental distress
and insufficient food. He had worn the same shirt for a month, as he had
never been able to prevail on his captors to give him others; and his
eyes had been so long unaccustomed to the light that he was obliged to
close them, and felt oppressed in the open air.

On the road