ter of the witness.

'With Moreau, sir, on the Rhine and the Schwarz-wald; in Ireland with
Humbert.'

'Your regiment?'

'The Ninth Hussar.'

'The "Tapageurs"' said he, laughing. 'I know them, and glad I am not to
have their company here at this moment; you were a lieutenant?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, supposing that, on the faith of what you have told me, I was
to follow the wise counsel of these gentlemen, would you like the
alternative of gaining your promotion in the event of success, or being
shot by a _peloton_ if we fail.'

'They seem sharp terms, sir,' said I, smiling, 'when it is remembered
that no individual efforts of mine can either promote one result or the
other.'

'Ay, but they can, sir,' cried he quickly. 'If you should turn out to
be an Austro-English spy; if these tidings be of a character to lead
my troops into danger; if, in reliance on you, I should be led to
compromise the honour and safety of a French army--your life, were it
worth ten thousand times over your own value of it, would be a sorry
recompense. Is this intelligible?'

'Far more intelligible than flattering,' said I, laughing; for I saw
that the best mode to treat him was by an imitation of his own frank and
careless humour. 'I have already risked that life you hold so cheaply to
convey this information, but I am still ready to accept the conditions
you offer me, if, in the event of success, my name appear in the
despatch.'

He again stared at me with his dark and piercing eyes; but I stood
the glance with a calm conscience, and he seemed so to read it, for he
said--

'Be it so. I will, meanwhile, test your prudence. Let nothing of this
interview transpire--not a word of it among the officers and comrades
you shall make acquaintance with. You shall serve on my own staff. Go
now, and recruit your strength for a couple of days, and then report
yourself at headquarters when ready for duty.--Latrobe, look to the
Lieutenant Tiernay; see that he wants for nothing, and let him have a
horse and a uniform as soon as may be.'

Captain Latrobe, the future General of Division, was then a young gay
officer of about five-and-twenty, very good-looking, and full of life
and spirits--a buoyancy which the terrible uncertainties of the siege
could not repress.

'Our general talks nobly, Tiernay,' said he, as he gave me his arm to
assist me; 'but you 'll stare when I tell you that "wanting for nothing"
means, having four ounces of black bread,