'Bah! I have a petard at the foot of yonder tree, M. le Capitaine,' said the first speaker; 'let us tie our moucharde to it, fire the match, and leave him to his friends, who may pick up his pieces at leisure.' 'A brilliant idea, comrade!' growled Schreckhorn, whose eyes flashed with rage and excitement at the unexpected danger in which his parley with me had placed him, though his native love of bloodshed, cruelty, and novelty were tickled by the barbarous proposition of the petardier, whose words were acted upon in a moment. 'Sang Dieu! quick, quick; your straps and the petard; we have not a moment to lose; these fellows will be on us!' I had scarcely time for breath or thought before my hands and feet were secured by straps, while the petard was bound to my breast; and now, lest the reader may not know what this warlike invention is, I shall describe it briefly. A petard is made of gun-metal, screwed upon a board two feet square, and holds usually about fifteen pounds of powder; a vent is screwed into the hole, by which the iron case is filled. When fired, its explosion will blow to shreds the strongest gates and palisades. The French Huguenots were the first who invented them, and by their means captured the city of Cahors in 1579. A pistol was snapped, and the slow-match lighted, and then, with a brutal laugh, M. Schreckhorn and his soldiers rushed own the hill towards Phalsbourg, looking back ever and anon watch the expected explosion. Though hardened by war, and familiarised to its dangers, this petard--this frightful engine of death--pressing like a charged bomb upon my breast, filled me with a horror too great for description, for realisation, or for utterance, and existence became a stupor! I was unable to move--to cry out--to breathe! I felt nothing--saw nothing! I knew nothing! all my thoughts and feelings, if I possessed them, were absorbed in one overwhelming sense of panic! I was surrounded by a black and wavering chaos, amid which I saw a brilliant and luminous spark, close to my face, consuming, shrinking, and expanding; this was the touchpaper, communicating with the petard to which I was tied. Suddenly the sense of danger and immediate death became to great for my whole nervous system. Bound as I was, powerless, paralysed, like one amid a crushing nightmare, a cry at last escaped me! Then, though fettered neck, hand, and heel, I rose to my feet, and in a wild endeavour to free myself from the dreadful engine of destruction to which I was bound, rolled over the cliff, and fell headlong through the air--down--down--I knew not how far! There was a cold splash--a shock--as I cleft the waters of a river; then there was darkness, and a rushing, bubbling sound, as they closed over me; then came blinding light, as I rose again to the surface; darkness again, and a whirling of all the senses, as I sank the second time; and with that sinking a deep, deep sleep seemed to come upon me, and I remembered no more.