unconnected, and unintelligible, after which, and by an effort that cost all my strength, I wrote “MAURICE TIERNEY, late Hussar of the 9th Regiment.” A hearty burst of tears followed the conclusion of this letter; all the pent-up emotion with which my heart was charged broke out at last, and I cried bitterly. Intense passions are, happily, never of long duration, and better still, they are always the precursors of calm. Thus, tranquil, the dawn of morn broke upon me, when the sergeant came to take my letter, and apprize me that the adjutant would appear in a few moments to read my sentence, and inform me when it was to be executed. “Thou’lt bear up well, lad; I know thou wilt,” said the poor fellow, with tears in his eyes. “Thou hast no mother, and thou’lt not have to grieve for _her_.” “Don’t be afraid, sergeant; I’ll not disgrace the old 9th. Tell my comrades I said so.” “I will. I will tell them all! Is this thy jacket, lad?” “Yes; what do you want it for?” “I must take it away with me. Thou art not to wear it more!” “Not wear it, nor die in it; and why not?” “That is the sentence, lad; I can not help it. It’s very hard, very cruel; but so it is.” “Then I am to die dishonored, sergeant; is that the sentence?” He dropped his head, and I could see that he moved his sleeve across his eyes; and then, taking up my jacket, he came toward me. “Remember, lad, a stout heart; no flinching. Adieu—God bless thee.” He kissed me on either cheek, and went out. He had not been gone many minutes, when the tramp of marching outside apprized me of the coming of the adjutant, and the door of my cell being thrown open, I was ordered to walk forth into the court of the prison. Two squadrons of my own regiment, all who were not on duty, were drawn up, dismounted, and without arms; beside them stood a company of grenadiers, and a half battalion of the line, the corps to which the other two prisoners belonged, and who now came forward, in shirt-sleeves like myself, into the middle of the court. One of my fellow-sufferers was a very old soldier, whose hair and beard were white as snow; the other was a middle-aged man, of a dark and forbidding aspect, who scowled at me angrily as I came up to his side, and seemed as if he scorned the companionship. I returned a glance, haughty and as full of defiance as his own, and never noticed him after. The drum beat a roll, and the word was given for silence in the ranks—an order so strictly obeyed, that even the clash of a weapon was unheard, and stepping in front of the line, the Auditeur Militaire read out the sentences. As for me, I heard but the words “Peine afflictive et infamante;” all the rest became confusion, shame, and terror co-mingled; nor did I know that the ceremonial was over, when the troops began to defile, and we were marched back again to our prison quarters. Chapter XIV. A Surprise And An Escape.