is a high quality in an author, and one possessed in a high degree by M.
Merimee; but he has been sometimes too bold and cynical in the choice
and treatment of his subjects. "_La Partie de Tric-trac_," and
"_L'Enlevement de la Redoute_," are amongst his happiest efforts. Both
are especially remarkable for their terse and vigorous style. We have
been prodigal of extracts from "Charles IX."--for it is a great
favourite of ours--and, although well known and much esteemed by all
habitual readers of French novels, it is hitherto, we believe,
untranslated into English. But we shall still make room for--

THE STORMING OF THE REDOUBT.

"I rejoined the regiment on the evening of the 4th September. I found
the colonel at the bivouac. At first he received me rather roughly; but
after reading General B's. letter of recommendation, he changed his
manner, and spoke a few obliging words. He presented me to my captain,
who had just returned from a reconnoissance. This captain, whom I had
little opportunity to become acquainted with, was a tall dark man, of
hard and repulsive physiognomy. He had been a private soldier, and had
won his cross and his epaulets on the battle-field. His voice, hoarse
and weak, contrasted strangely with his gigantic stature. They told me
he was indebted for this singular voice to a bullet that had passed
completely through his body at Jena.

"On hearing that I came from the school at Fontainbleau, he made a wry
face, and said, 'My lieutenant died yesterday.'--I understood that he
meant to say, 'You are to replace him, and you are not able.' A sharp
word rose to my lips, but I repressed it.

"The moon rose behind the redoubt of Cheverino, situate at twice
cannon-shot from our bivouac. She was large and red, as is common at her
rising; but that night she seemed to me of extraordinary size. For an
instant the black outline of the redoubt stood out against the moon's
brilliant disc, resembling the cone of a volcano at the moment of an
eruption.

"An old soldier who stood near me, noticed the colour of the moon. 'She
is very red,' he said; ''tis a sign that yon famous redoubt will cost us
dear.' I was always superstitious, and this augury, just at that moment,
affected me. I lay down, but could not sleep; I got up and walked for
some time, gazing at the immense line of fires covering the heights
beyond the village of Cheverino.

"When I deemed my blood sufficient cooled by the fresh night air, I
returned