‘The members of the court-martial looked from one to the other in amazement, while after a pause of a few minutes the President repeated his question, dwelling patiently on each word, as if desirous to suit the troubled intellect of the prisoner. ‘“You are asked,” said he, “to remember why you appeared at the bridge of the Elster.” ‘“Hush!” replied the prisoner, placing his finger upon his lips, as if to instil caution; “not a word!” ‘“What can this mean?” said the President, “his mind appears completely astray.” ‘The members of the tribunal leaned their heads over the table, and conversed for some moments in a low tone, after which the President resumed the interrogatory as before. ‘“Que voulez-vous?” said the Emperor, rising, while a crimson spot on his cheek evinced his displeasure; “Que voulez-vous, messieurs! do you not see the man is mad?” ‘“Silence!” reiterated Aubuisson, in the same solemn voice; “silence à la mort!” ‘There could no longer be any doubt upon the question. From whatever cause proceeding, his intellect was shaken, and his reason gone. Some predominant impression, some all-powerful idea, had usurped the seat of both judgment and memory, and he was a maniac. ‘In ten days after, General Aubuisson--the distinguished soldier of the Republic, the _brave_ of Egypt, and the hero of many a battle in Germany, Poland, and Russia--was a patient of Charenton. A sad and melancholy figure, wasted and withered like a tree reft by lightning, the wreck of his former self, he walked slowly to and fro; and though at times his reason would seem to return free and unclouded, suddenly a dark curtain would appear to drop over the light of his intellect, and he would mutter the words, “Silence! silence à la mort!” and speak not again for several hours after.’ The Vicomte de Berlemont, from whom I heard this sad story, was himself a member of the court-martial on the occasion. For the rest, I visited Paris about a fortnight after I heard it, and determining to solve my doubts on a subject of such interest I paid an early visit to Charenton. On examining the registry of the institution, I found the name of ‘Gustave Guillaume Aubuisson, native of Dijon, aged thirty-two. Admitted at Charenton the 31st of October, 1813. Incurable.’ And on another page was the single line, ‘Aubuisson escaped from Charenton, June 16, 1815. Supposed to have been seen at Waterloo on the 18th.’