As he opened his dim and haggard eyes, all light of life and intelligence appeared to be so utterly quenched within them, that the surgeon, after having felt the pulse of Prosper, shook his head doubtingly, as he replied to the inquiring glance of the officer.

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I fear, captain, it is quite impossible to interrogate the young man just now."

"Well, well, then take him away for the present," replied the captain, interrupting the surgeon, and addressing himself to a corporal who stood behind the chair of Prosper, "take him away for the present, and see that he is kept under close arrest."

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Sacré!" whispered the corporal in a deep, yet energetic tone, as he stooped over him, "can't you contrive, you pitiful coward, at least to march steadily before these German mastiffs, if it be only for the honour of the republic."

This cutting reproach was not without effect: Prosper Magnan roused himself for a moment, he rose up from the chair and advanced a few paces forward, but as soon as the door was opened, and he felt the chill stream of external air rush upon him, and saw the crowd pressing in from without, his presence of mind and strength deserted him altogether, his knees bent beneath him, he staggered back. "Diable! he would deserve to lose two lives, if he had them, for discharging that musket," muttered the corporal. "Marche donce," said the two soldiers who supported him on each side with their arms.

"Oh! the villain! the villain! Here he comes-that's he-look at him! look at him!"

Such were the exclamations that assailed him on every side, and which seemed rather to proceed from a single voice-the tumultuous voice of the enraged crowd, as they accompanied him with shouts of insult and opprobrious epithets, becoming louder and more violent every step they went. "While he thus walked, or to speak more truly, was dragged along, from the auberge to the prison, the clamour and disturbance which the people and the soldiers made as they marched along, the murmuring of the multitude as they answered the hasty inquiries of

each person, that with every step swelled the throng, or discoursed about the horrible deed of which they supposed the young man guilty, the sight of the bright and tranquil heaven spreading above, the fresh breath of the morning air, the view of Andernach as it rose just before them, the heaving and swelling of the waters of the Rhine, all these passed in hurried review before his senses, and crowded into his brain, even at that fearful moment, but the impressions which they left there, were, like those that fit away from before the eyes of the dreamer as he awakes from slumber, vague, and dim, and undefinable, and there were moments, as Prosper himself afterwards told me, when he doubted whether he existed in this world or not.

At the period when this strange event happened-said M. Hermann, interrupting his narrative to explain to us how he had become so intimately acquainted with all the circumstances of his tale.-At the period when this strange event happened, it was my own fortune to be confined in prison. Full of ardour and enthusiasm, as we are indeed all apt to be when we have but the experience of twenty years to guide us-for at that time I reckoned no more-it was the dearest wish of my heart to defend my native land. At my own expense I raised, and organised in the neighbourhood of Andernach, a company of volunteers, and placed myself immediately at their head; unfortunately, however, I fell during the night, into the midst of a detachment of the French army, composed of about eight hundred men, while our little band did not, I suppose, at the most, amount to two hundred. I found, when too late, that my own scouts had sold me to the enemy. Resistance was in vain; it would be only a useless sacrifice of human life. I surrendered, and was immediately cast into prison at Andernach, while, in the mean time, it was strongly urged that I should be shot, for the sake of showing a public example, calculated to intimidate that part of the country. The French too, at the time, spoke a good deal about reprisals, but in truth the murders-if I am justi fied in so calling them-for which the

republican party wished to draw down vengeance upon my head, had not been committed in the Electorate.

My father had obtained with some difficulty a delay of the proceedings in my case for three days, in order that he might have time to go to General Augereau himself and endeavour to obtain my pardon; he was fortunate enough to effect an interview with that General, who, after some difficulty, granted his request.

It was just at that time that I happened to see Prosper Magnan, as he was led into the prison at Andernach, and that sight inspired me involuntarily with profound commiseration and inexpressible interest for one apparently so young and so unfortunate. He was pallid and haggard in the extreme, and his garments were dabbled all over with blood; yet his countenance bore the characters of candour and innocence so forcibly stamped upon it, that I felt myself irresistibly impelled towards the young man. Besides, what still more strongly appealed to my own feelings, the very spirit of Germany seemed to dwell in his light and flowing tresses, and within his blue eyes. These were, in my sight, the true tokens of my own loved and suffering land, and he no longer appeared to me to be a murderer, but a inartyr. Just at the instant when he passed by beneath the window of my cell, he cast towards me a bitter and melancholy smile, which words cannot enable me to describe-a smile of one upon whose wandering and distracted mind the flickering light of reason has for a moment returned-assuredly that smile did not belong to an assassin.

The impression which the sight of this unhappy youth left upon my mind was, as I said before, very powerful, and not likely to be readily effaced; accordingly, I waited with the utmost anxiety the hour when his usual round of duty should lead the jailer to visit my solitary apartment. At length it came, and no sooner did the man make his appearance, than I questioned him eagerly concerning the young person who had in the morning been led by my window to prison.

My first impression was, that he might probably have been, like myself, involved in some unsuccessful struggle for the liberties of his country: my VOL. IV.

doubts on that head, however, were speedily dissipated.

"No, no," said the keeper, in answer to my query, "that's the trade of honester folks belike. The young villain cut the throat of a German merchant with whom he slept last night in the inn yonder."

"Has he confessed his guilt ?" I asked, still clinging to the hope of his innocence. "Oh no,

Confess!" said the jailer, the fellow's too dogged for that, I fancy. He has never opened his lips since he set foot in the dungeon, but sits all the while with his head between his hands, and for aught I can tell is fast asleep, if the thought of his sins don't keep him waking. Well, to-morrow morning will close his accounts, for they say he is to be shot in twenty-four hours. Tonnere de Dieu! powder and shot is too good for him; such chaps would be better fruit for the gallows tree;" and muttering something about "looking through the wards and having no time for gossiping," he flung out of the apartment.

I know not why it was, but I could not endure to think that the poor youth was guilty of so dreadful a crime that ingenuous and guileless, though distracted look, still dwelt upon my recollection, and appealed to my heart in his favour. Upon that evening I spent beneath the window of the prisoner's cell, the few short minutes which were daily allowed me to indulge in walking up and down the court-yard of the prison. I attracted his notice, and beguiled him to enter into conversation with me, and he disclosed the whole circumstances of his misfortune to me, simply and without disguise, while the answers which he returned to my numerous questions discovered a pure mind and a just understanding.

After the first conversation which I had with Prosper Magnan, not a shadow of doubt with regard to his innocence remained upon my mind. As my own captivity was of an honourable description, I requested as a favour, and obtained permission to remain a few hours with him in his cell, and from that time I saw him on several occasions, during which the unfortunate young man disburthened his whole soul to me, and scrutinized every thought of his heart.

G

How strange it was, have I often since reflected, that the mysterious occurrence of that fatal night should cloud the conscience with a stain of guilt when the hand had never perpetrated the crime, and even the heart had successfully struggled against it. Such however, was the fact, and it exhibited powerfully how terrible is the responsibility of man even for the secret and unaccomplished cogitations of his spirit.

At first he believed, at one and the same moment, that he was innocent and guilty of the heinous crime with which he was charged; for when he recalled to mind the horrible temptation which had assailed him, although he had finally found his virtuous resolution sufficient to resist its influence, the dreadful thought flashed upon him that he had, during the moments of slumber and in an unhappy fit of somnambulism, actually perpetrated that crime which had, while awake, so powerfully occupied his thoughts.

"But your companion?" said I to Prosper, as we conversed together.

Oh!" cried he, interrupting me with generous ardour, "Wilhelm is incapable

"No," he continued after a pause, "he never could have committed such an act."

He uttered these words with an expression so full of youthful enthusiasm and friendship that it touched my heart.

I could make no answer, so I pressed his hand in silence.

"When he awoke," resumed Prosper, "he must no doubt have been greatly terrified, I suppose he lost all presence of mind and fled away from the inn." "What," said I, "without awaking you ?"

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However," I added, "your defence will be easy and certain, inasmuch as the vallise of Walhenfer has not been plundered."

For a moment he became thoughtful, then all of a sudden tears gushed into his eyes, and grasping my hand with eagerness, he passionately exclaimed,

"Oh! yes, yes, I am indeed innocent-I know that I am. I never killed him. See, I have at length called to mind my dreams of last night; alas! they were of scenes far away, in the happy days of my boyhood. I thought

that I was enjoying our sports at college, pitching the bar with my comrades-No, I never could in sleep have cut the throat of the merchant, when I fled with terror from the crime while awake."

Still, despite of this light of hope which had flowed in upon the darkness of his soul and afforded, at times, tranquillity to his troubled conscience, he continually felt his heart crushed and torn by the remorse that preyed upon it. He knew too well that he had indeed lifted up his arm with the intention of depriving the merchant of life. He arraigned his own conduct with strict severity, and he could not pronounce his heart pure after having committed the dreadful crime even in his thoughts. At other times the tide of his feelings would take another direction, and almost forgetting his misfortune as it more immediately affected himself, he would bitterly bewail the affliction in which it would plunge those who were dearer to him than life.

"Oh my poor mother," he would cry," how will she endure to hear it."

And then his mind would hurry him away to the scenes of his peaceful home, and with that unaccountable perversity of feeling—which we would not know how to credit did not experience put it beyond the reach of philosophy to question-turn away from the objects which should absorb its contemplation, to dwell for a moment upon some minute and trifling accident of the picture before it.

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Yes," he would proceed, the melancholy languor of his features almost relaxing into a smile, "perhaps even at this very moment she is seated happy and sinless amid the circle of her worthy neighbours; there, there, I see her in her little salon hung with tapestry - O God! could she only know that I dared even lift this hand to murder a fellow-creature, she would never survive it. And yet, Almighty Power! I am in prison, accused too of having perpetrated that very crime-oh! wretch, there is no escape for me from guilt if I have not been his murderer, I will too surely be the murderer of my mother."

As the wretched Prosper spoke these last words, his tears ceased to flow, while his swoln and blood-shot eyes

gleamed with a fierceness that appalled me. He sprung from the seat on which he had just before sunk down, and goaded to frenzy by a thought so insupportable, he dashed himself recklessly against the walls of his cell. He would have shattered his head to pieces had I not seized him in my arms, during that short though fearful transport.

"Be patient, my dear friend," said I, "and await with fortitude the event of your trial. I cannot suffer myself to doubt the issue-you are innocentyou will be acquitted, and your mother

"Hah! my mother," he cried with returning fury, "she will be the very first to hear of my accusation. It is always the case in small towns, and she will die of sorrow when she hears it. Happen what will, then I shall never be innocent. Shall I tell you the truth-shall I tell you how I feeland then sinking his voice to a whisper, and looking at me with terrifying

earnestness

"I feel that my conscience has lost her virgin purity."

As he uttered this hopeless denunciation, the young man sunk slowly down upon his seat, crossed his arms upon his breast, and drooping his head downwards, he fixed his eyes upon the ground with an air of sullen and gloomy desperation.

There are moments when the human spirit falls prostrate before the hand of affliction, when it turns away from the words of counsel and of comfort, and the voice of reason will but jar upon its wretchedness and irritate it to madness. I felt that moment was now come, and I awaited in silent watchfulness till its darkness should pass away. Before the dormant energies of his soul were yet stirring within him, the turnkey came into the room. My time of leave with which I was indulged had expired, and he had come to conduct me back to my own prison room. I felt deeply grieved at being forced to abandon the miserable Prosper at that fearful moment when the shades of desperation were gathering gloomiest around him, and clasping him in my arms with an emotion of friendship to which a few short hours had given the strength of years, I said,

"My dear friend, be patient and

resigned. All will, I trust, yet be well. If the approving voice of one who feels that his honor is without stain, can calm those cruel doubts which disturb your soul, be assured that I esteem, and honor, and love you. Accept then the friendship of my heart, if you cannot feel in peace with your own."

The remainder of that night I passed in meditating upon the sorrowful scene which I had witnessed. About nine o'clock upon the following morning a corporal, attended by four fusileers, came to the prison for the purpose of conducting Prosper Magnan to the court-martial where he was to be examined. I heard the noise which the soldiers made as they marched by, and I sprang up immediately and placed myself at my window. As I reached it, the poor young man was passing through the court-yard of the prison, and he turned his eyes full upon me. Never shall I forget that look; it was full of a thousand unutterable thoughts, of sad presentiments, of manly resignation, and an air of pensive and melancholy gracefulness, that was indescribably dignified-a sort of sacred testament, unspoken by the tongue, yet perfectly intelligible to the heart, by which a friend bequeathed the memory of a wretched and devoted existence to his last remaining friend.

Without doubt the past night had been to him one of fearful trial, difficult to endure, and solitary in the extreme, yet his eye was serene and unagitated, his features calm, unchanging, and pallid; perhaps that pale composure was the result of a manly stoicism, a fortitude of character which he knew not himself that he possessed till he communed in solitude with his own spirit, and summoned its energies into action; perhaps it was that by repentance he had purified his conscience from the stain of meditated crime, which, spreading like a cloud over his mind, oppressed and appalled it, and that he now trusted he had washed away the guilt, if such it were, by suffering and humiliation-I know not how it was; but he appeared before me totally changed from what he had been on the preceding evening. His step was firm and regular, and he had removed from his garments all traces of the blood with which he had unconsciously polluted himself.

My hands," said he, on the preceding evening, with a voice of despair that appalled me as he accounted for this mysterious occurrence, " my hands have involved me in this fatal dilemma, my sleep is always restless, and I must have thrust them into the blood while I slept."

I learned that Prosper Magnan was then on his way to appear before the court-martial. The division of the troops were to leave their quarters on the day but one after, and the officer in command of the demi-brigade did not wish to leave Andernach without punishing the supposed perpetrator of so aggravated a crime, on the spot where it had been committed.

In a state of indescribable anxiety and suspense, I waited during the time that the court-martial was sitting. At length when it was near mid-day, Prosper Magnan was dismissed and remanded to prison. I chanced at that moment to be taking my accustomed walk in the court-yard as soon as he perceived me he hurried forward and threw himself into my arms.

"It is all over," said he, "I am lostlost beyond hope-and oh! worse than death-the world shall believe that I am an assassin."

The thought of future infamy overwhelmed him for a moment, then he raised his head with gloomy fierce

ness.

"Be it even so. The injustice of this day's sentence has once again rendered me innocent. My life would have been always troubled with remorse; my death shall be without guilt or self reproach, and as to the future-hah! is there indeed a future?" I shuddered at the question-There was all the dark scepticism of the eighteenth century involved in that startling and sudden interrogation.

For a while he remained silent as if occupied by some vague and unsatisfying thoughts. At length I broke in upon his reflections.

Tell me," said I, "how did you defend yourself? What answers did you make to the accusation? What questions did they put to you? Did you not relate the whole circumstance in the same simple and natural manner that you told it to me?"

He raised his eyes and looked fixedly in my face; then pausing as if

It was.'

You must have used great caution in opening it. There was no noise, for the innkeeper did not hear you. What was your reason for acting so stealthily?'

"I could not answer: I was struck dumb by the question. The mariners had, upon their examination, already deposed, that they had observed me during the night walking hurriedly to and fro, sometimes going towards Andernach, and sometimes towards the neighbouring forest. They declared I had made a great many journeys back and forward. It was plain I was then engaged in burying the gold and diamonds of the merchant. To finish all, the valise could not be found. What further proof was wanting? They thought me guilty beyond a question. Besides, I was at war with myself, remorse was preying upon my heart, and when I tried to speak, a merciless and avenging voice cried within me, you wished to commit the crime,' and the words died upon my tongue. Alas! every one was against me-I was against myself.

"I was next," continued Prosper, "interrogated concerning my fellow traveller. I defended him with all my energies. They then replied,

Some one amongst you must have committed the crime, either you, your comrade, the innkeeper, or his wife. All the windows and doors were found closed upon the morning after.'

"When my judges made this observation," said the youth, I stood silent before them without strength, without