se beating will soon be still throbbed
gratefully toward you to the last! I have been sentenced to death for a
breach of discipline of which I was guilty. Had I failed in the
achievement of my enterprise by the bullet of an enemy, they would have
named me with honor; but I have had the misfortune of success, and
tomorrow am I to pay its penalty. I have the satisfaction, however, of
knowing that my share in that great day can neither be denied nor evaded;
it is already on record, and the time may yet come when my memory will be
vindicated. I know not if these lines be legible, nor if I have crossed or
recrossed them. If they are blotted they are not my tears have done it,
for I have a firm heart and a good courage; and when the moment comes--";
here my hand trembled so much, and my brain grew so dizzy, that I lost the
thread of my meaning, and merely jotted down at random a few words, vague,
unconnected, and unintelligible, after which, and by an effort that cost
all my strength, I wrote "MAURICE TIERNEY, late Hussar of the 9th
Regiment."

A hearty burst of tears followed the conclusion of this letter; all the
pent-up emotion with which my heart was charged broke out at last, and I
cried bitterly. Intense passions are, happily, never of long duration, and
better still, they are always the precursors of calm. Thus, tranquil, the
dawn of morn broke upon me, when the sergeant came to take my letter, and
apprize me that the adjutant would appear in a few moments to read my
sentence, and inform me when it was to be executed.

"Thou'lt bear up well, lad; I know thou wilt," said the poor fellow, with
tears in his eyes. "Thou hast no mother, and thou'lt not have to grieve
for _her_."

"Don't be afraid, sergeant; I'll not disgrace the old 9th. Tell my
comrades I said so."

"I will. I will tell them all! Is this thy jacket, lad?"

"Yes; what do you want it for?"

"I must take it away with me. Thou art not to wear it more!"

"Not wear it, nor die in it; and why not?"

"That is the sentence, lad; I can not help it. It's very hard, very cruel;
but so it is."

"Then I am to die dishonored, sergeant; is that the sentence?"

He dropped his head, and I could see that he moved his sleeve across his
eyes; and then, taking up my jacket, he came toward me.

"Remember, lad, a stout heart; no flinching. Adieu--God bless thee." He
kissed me on either cheek, and went out.

He had not been gone many minutes, when the tramp of marchi