Near the bottom of the stem, below the lowest branches, where the sap had got power to circulate, a single flower, fresh and brilliant, had just expanded! Already, all the others were drooping, withered, on their stalks; but this single one retained its beauty, as yet uncrushed by the rude hand of the jailer. Springing in the midst of a little tuft of leaves, whose verdure threw out in contrast the vivid colours of its petals, the flower seemed to turn imploringly towards its master. He even fancied its last perfumes were exhaling towards him; and, as the tears rose in his eyes, seemed to see the beloved object enlarge, disappear, and at last bloom out anew. The human being and the flower, so strangely attached to each other, were interchanging an eternal farewell! If, at that moment, when so many human passions were called into action by the existence of an humble vegetable, a stranger could have entered, unprepared, the prison-court of Fenestrella, where the sky shed a sombre and saddening reflection, the aspect of the officers of justice, invested in their tri-coloured scarfs—of the commandant, issuing his ruthless orders in a tone of authority—would naturally have seemed to announce some frightful execution, of which Ludovico was the executioner, and Charney the victim, whose sentence of death had just been recited to him. And see, they come! strangers _are_ entering the court—two strangers, the one, an aide-de-camp of General Menon, the other, a page of the Empress Josephine. The dust with which their uniforms were covered attests with what speed they have performed their journey to the fortress; yet a minute more, and they had been too late! At the noise produced by their arrival, Ludovico, raising his head, relaxed his grasp of Picciola, and confronted Charney. Both the jailer and the prisoner were pale as death! The commandant had now received from the hands of the aide-de-camp an order, the perusal of which seemed to strike him with astonishment; but after taking a turn or two in the courtyard, to compare in his mind the order of to-day with that of the day preceding, he assumed a more courteous demeanour, and, approaching the Count de Charney, placed in his hands the missive of General Menon. Trembling with emotion, the prisoner read as follows: “His majesty, the Emperor and King, deputes me, sir, to inform you that he grants the petition forwarded to him by the prisoner Charney, now under your custody in the fortress of Fenestrella, relative to a plant growing among the stones of one of its pavements. Such as are likely to be injurious to the flower must be instantly removed; for which purpose you are requested to consult the wishes and convenience of your prisoner.” “Long live the Emperor!” cried Ludovico.