ost agitation, has
fallen asleep, and had a cheering dream: he has also contrived to make
acquaintance with one of the volunteer bailiffs, and spoken in native
Provencal with him. On Tuesday, about one in the morning, his Agony is
reaching its crisis.

'By the glare of two torches, I now descried the terrible tribunal,
where lay my life or my death. The President, in grey coats, with a
sabre at his side, stood leaning with his hands against a table, on
which were papers, an inkstand, tobacco-pipes and bottles. Some ten
persons were around, seated or standing; two of whom had jackets and
aprons: others were sleeping stretched on benches. Two men, in bloody
shirts, guarded the door of the place; an old turnkey had his hand on
the lock. In front of the President, three men held a Prisoner, who
might be about sixty' (or seventy: he was old Marshal Maille, of the
Tuileries and August Tenth). 'They stationed me in a corner; my
guards crossed their sabres on my breast. I looked on all sides for my
Provencal: two National Guards, one of them drunk, presented some appeal
from the Section of Croix Rouge in favour of the Prisoner; the Man in
Grey answered: "They are useless, these appeals for traitors." Then the
Prisoner exclaimed: "It is frightful; your judgment is a murder." The
President answered; "My hands are washed of it; take M. Maille away."
They drove him into the street; where, through the opening of the door,
I saw him massacred.

'The President sat down to write; registering, I suppose, the name of
this one whom they had finished; then I heard him say: "Another, A un
autre!"

'Behold me then haled before this swift and bloody judgment-bar, where
the best protection was to have no protection, and all resources of
ingenuity became null if they were not founded on truth. Two of my
guards held me each by a hand, the third by the collar of my coat. "Your
name, your profession?" said the President. "The smallest lie ruins
you," added one of the judges,--"My name is Jourgniac Saint-Meard; I
have served, as an officer, twenty years: and I appear at your tribunal
with the assurance of an innocent man, who therefore will not
lie."--"We shall see that," said the President: "Do you know why you
are arrested?"--"Yes, Monsieur le President; I am accused of editing the
Journal De la Cour et de la Ville. But I hope to prove the falsity"'--

But no; Jourgniac's proof of the falsity, and defence generally, though
of excellent resul