captain's I threw myself on the sofa, quite
overcome by the thought that only that morning my wife had been beside me
under my protection, and that I had let her go back to the town to a
cruel and inevitable death. I felt as if my heart would break, and
nothing that our host and my friend could say gave me the slightest
comfort. I was like a madman, unconscious of everything round me.
"M______ went out to try to pick up some news, but in an instant we
heard him running back, and he dashed into the room, calling out:
"'They are coming! There they are!'
"'Who are coming?' we asked.
"'The assassins!'
"My first feeling, I confess, was one of joy. I pounced upon a pair of
double-barrelled pistols, resolved not to let myself be slaughtered like
a sheep. Through the window I could see some men climbing over the wall
and getting down into the garden. We had just sufficient time to escape
by a back staircase which led to a door, through which we passed,
shutting it behind us. We found ourselves on a road, at the other side
of which was a vineyard. We crossed the road and crept under the vines,
which completely concealed us.
"As we learned later, the captain's house had been denounced as a
Bonapartist nest, and the assassins had hoped to take it by surprise;
and, indeed, if they had come a little sooner we had been lost, for
before we had been five minutes in our hiding-place the murderers rushed
out on the road, looking for us in every direction, without the slightest
suspicion that we were not six yards distant. Though they did not see us
I could see them, and I held my pistols ready cocked, quite determined to
kill the first who came near. However, in a short time they went away.
"As soon as they were out of hearing we began to consider our situation
and weigh our chances. There was no use in going back to the captain's,
for he was no longer there, having also succeeded in getting away. If we
were to wander about the country we should be recognised as fugitives,
and the fate that awaited us as such was at that moment brought home to
us, for a few yards away we suddenly heard the shrieks of a man who was
being murdered. They were the first cries of agony I had ever heard, and
for a few moments, I confess, I was frozen with terror. But soon a
violent reaction took place within me, and I felt that it would be better
to march straight to meet peril than to await its coming, and although I
knew the dan
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