A heavy curtain of dark cloth yet separated us from a view of the court; but we could hear the voice of the president commanding silence, and the monotonous intonation of the clerk reading the order for the proceedings. This concluded, a deep voice called out, “Introduce the prisoners!” and the words were repeated still louder by a huissier at the entrance; and at a signal the line moved forward, the curtain was drawn back, and we advanced into the court. The crowd of faces that filled the vast space from the body of the court below to the galleries above, turned as we passed on to the bench, at one side of the raised platform near the seat of the judges. A similar bench, but unoccupied, ran along the opposite side; while directly in front of the judges were ranged the advocates in rows, closely packed as they could sit,--a small desk, somewhat advanced from the rest, being the seat reserved for the Procureur-Général of the court. The vast multitudes of spectators; the pomp and circumstance of a court of justice; the solemn look of the judges, arrayed in their dark robes and square black caps, reminding one of the officers of the Inquisition, as we see them in old paintings; the silence where so many were assembled,--all struck me with awe, and I scarcely dared to look up, lest in the glances bent upon me I should meet some whose looks might seem to condemn me. “Proclaim the _séance_,” said the President. And with: a loud voice the _huissier_ of the court made proclamation that the tribunal had commenced its sitting. This concluded, the Procureur-Général proceeded to read the names of the accused, beginning with Général Moreau, Armand de Polignac, Charles de Rivière, Sol de Gisolles, George Cadoudal, and some twenty others of less note, among which I heard with a sinking heart my own name pronounced. Some customary formalities seemed now to occupy the court for a considerable time; after which the _huissier_ called silence once more. “Général Moreau!” said the President, in a deep voice that was heard throughout the entire court. “Rise up, sir,” added he, after a few seconds' pause. I looked down the bench, at the farthest end of which I saw the tall and well-knit figure of a man in the uniform of a general of the Republic; his back was turned towards me, but his bearing and carriage were quite enough to distinguish the soldier. “Your name and surname,” said the President. Before an answer could be returned, a dull sound, like something heavy falling, resounded through the court, and in an instant several persons around me stood up. I bent forward to see, and beheld the figure of Bouvet de Lozier stretched insensible upon the ground; beside him his faithful friend George was stooping, and endeavoring to open his vest to give him air. “Bring some water here quickly!” cried the hardy Breton, in a tone that showed little respect for where he stood. “Your absurd ceremonial has frightened the poor boy out of his senses.”