t it would involve the inconvenience of going down to the
wood. However, a promise is a promise, and you seem to be an excellent
fellow, so we will spare no pains to meet your wishes."

"You said," I answered, "that I must die before midnight. I will choose,
therefore, just one minute before that hour."

"Very good," said he. "Such clinging to life is rather childish, but
your wishes shall be met."

"As to the method," I added, "I love a death which all the world can
see. Put me on yonder pile of fagots and burn me alive, as saints and
martyrs have been burned before me. That is no common end, but one which
an Emperor might envy."

The idea seemed to amuse him very much. "Why not?" said he. "If Massena
has sent you to spy upon us, he may guess what the fire upon the
mountain means."

"Exactly," said I. "You have hit upon my very reason. He will guess, and
all will know, that I have died a soldier's death."

"I see no objection whatever," said the brigand, with his abominable
smile. "I will send some goat's flesh and wine into your hut. The sun is
sinking and it is nearly eight o'clock. In four hours be ready for your
end."

It was a beautiful world to be leaving. I looked at the golden haze
below, where the last rays of the sinking sun shone upon the blue waters
of the winding Tagus and gleamed upon the white sails of the English
transports.

Very beautiful it was, and very sad to leave; but there are things more
beautiful than that. The death that is died for the sake of others,
honour, and duty, and loyalty, and love--these are the beauties far
brighter than any which the eye can see. My breast was filled with
admiration for my own most noble conduct, and with wonder whether any
soul would ever come to know how I had placed myself in the heart of the
beacon which saved the army of Clausel. I hoped so and I prayed so,
for what a consolation it would be to my mother, what an example to the
army, what a pride to my Hussars! When de Pombal came at last into my
hut with the food and the wine, the first request I made him was that he
would write an account of my death and send it to the French camp.

He answered not a word, but I ate my supper with a better appetite from
the thought that my glorious fate would not be altogether unknown.

I had been there about two hours when the door opened again, and the
chief stood looking in. I was in darkness, but a brigand with a torch
stood beside him, and I saw his eyes a