The commandant read the gazette, his clear voice pronouncing every word with a sort of quaver in it, resembling the tic-tac of our clock in the middle of the night, and it could be distinctly heard in the square. The reading lasted a long time, for the commandant omitted nothing. I remember it commenced by declaring that the one called Bonaparte, a public enemy, who for fifteen years had held France in despotic slavery, had escaped from his island, and had had the audacity to set his foot on the soil deluged with blood through his own crimes, but that the troops--faithful to the King and to the nation--were on the march to stop him, and that in view of the general horror, Bonaparte, with the handful of beggars that accompanied him, had fled into the mountains, but that he was surrounded on all sides and could not escape. I remember too, according to that gazette all the marshals had hastened to place their glorious swords at the service of the King, the father of the people and of the nation, and that the illustrious Marshal Ney, Prince of Moscowa, had kissed the King's hand and promised to bring Bonaparte to Paris dead or alive. After that there were some Latin words which no doubt had been put there for the priests. From time to time I heard some one behind me laughing and jeering at the journal. On turning round, I saw that it was Professor Burguet and two or three other noted men who had been taken after the "Hundred days," and had been forced to remain at Bourges because, as Father Goulden said, they had too much spirit. That shows plainly that it is better to keep still at such times, if one does not wish to fight on either side; for words are of no use, but to get us into difficulty. But there was something worse still toward the end, when the commandant commenced to read the decrees. The first indicated the movement of the troops, and the second, commanded all Frenchmen to fall upon Bonaparte, to arrest and deliver him dead or alive, because he had put himself out of the pale of law. At that moment the commandant, who had until then only laughed when he read the name of Bonaparte, and whose bony face had only trembled a little as it was lighted up by the lamp--at that moment his aspect changed completely, I never saw anything more terrible; his face contracted, fold upon fold, his little eyes blazed like those of a cat, and his mustaches and whiskers stood on end; he seized the gazette and tore it into a thousand pieces, and then pale as death he raised himself to his full height, extended his long arms, and shouted in a voice so loud that it made our flesh creep, _Vive l'Empereur!_ Immediately all the half-pay officers raised their three-cornered hats, some in their hands and some on the end of their sword-canes, and repeated with one voice, _Vive l'Empereur!_