Pierre Cognard, when serving a sentence of fourteen years in the Bagne of Brest, made his escape, and passed into Spain, where he joined an irregular corps under the guerilla leader Nina, and gained the cross of Alcantara. While in garrison in one of the towns of Catalonia, he made the acquaintance of a person who had been a servant to Count Pontis de Ste. Hélène, recently deceased. This servant had, by some means or other, laid hands upon the Count's titles of nobility, and he now handed them over to Cognard, who adopted the name and title without question. Despite his antecedents, he appears to have displayed great strictness in dealing with public money, and on one occasion denounced two French officers whom he caught in malpractices. They turned on him, and accused him of complicity. General Wimpfen ordered all to be arrested, but Cognard resisted, and was only taken by force. He was relegated to a military prison in the island of Majorca, from which he escaped with a party of prisoners, who, having seized a Spanish brig in the harbour, sailed in it to Algiers. There they sold their prize, and Cognard crossed into Spain, which the French were occupying. The pretended Comte was appointed to Soult's staff, took part in the later operations in the Pyrenees, and was in command of a flying column at the battle of Toulouse. After the abdication of Napoleon, he disappeared from sight, but he was with the Emperor at Waterloo, where he acquitted himself well. At the Restoration Cognard passed himself off as a grandee of Spain, who had served Napoleon under pressure. Having demanded an audience of the king, Louis XVIII., he seems to have had no difficulty in persuading Louis that he was what he pretended; he was well received at Court, and treated with distinction. During the Hundred Days Cognard accompanied the king to Ghent, and made himself conspicuous everywhere as a member of the Court. On the second Restoration he was nominated lieutenant-colonel of the 72nd regiment, and formed part of the garrison of Paris. He was now seemingly at the height of prosperity, but his downfall was near at hand. [Illustration: THE PLACE VENDÔME.]