nd even when I looked up, and saw the armed figures around
me, I could have laid down once more, and composed myself to another
sleep.

The first thing which thoroughly aroused me, and at once brightened up my
slumbering senses, was missing my jacket, for which I searched every
corner of my cell, forgetting that it had been taken away, as the nature
of my sentence was declared "infamante." The next shock was still greater,
when two sapeurs came forward to tie my wrists together behind my back; I
neither spoke nor resisted, but in silent submission complied with each
order given me.

All preliminaries being completed, I was led forward, preceded by a
pioneer, and guarded on either side by two sapeurs of "the guard;" a
muffled drum, ten paces in advance, keeping up a low monotonous rumble as
we went.

Our way led along the ramparts, beside which ran a row of little gardens,
in which the children of the officers were at play. They ceased their
childish gambols as we drew near, and came closer up to watch us. I could
mark the terror and pity in their little faces as they gazed at me; I
could see the traits of compassion with which they pointed me out to each
other, and my heart swelled with gratitude for even so slight a sympathy.
It was with difficulty I could restrain the emotion of that moment, but
with a great effort I did subdue it, and marched on, to all seeming,
unmoved. A little further on, as we turned the angle of the wall, I looked
back to catch one last look at them. Would that I had never done so! They
had quitted the railings, and were now standing in a group, in the act of
performing a mimic execution. One, without his jacket, was kneeling on the
grass. But I could not bear the sight, and in scornful anger I closed my
eyes, and saw no more.

A low whispering conversation was kept up by the soldiers around me. They
were grumbling at the long distance they had to march, as the "affair"
might just as well have taken place on the glacis as two miles away. How
different were _my_ feelings--how dear to me was now every minute, every
second of existence; how my heart leaped at each turn of the way, as I
still saw a space to traverse, and some little interval longer to live.

"And, mayhap, after all," muttered one dark-faced fellow, "we shall have
come all this way for nothing. There can be no 'fusillade' without the
general's signature, so I heard the adjutant say; and who's to promise
that he'll be at his quar