he cut a caper, and, holding up the innocent
weapons, called out, "These have done the business!" But he lied, the
braggart, and boasted of a crime which was committed by braver cutthroats
than he.

Behind him came the general of the "Emancipating Army of Vaucluse," who,
graciously saluting the crowd, said, "The marshal has carried out an act
of justice by taking his own life." Shouts of mingled joy, revenge, and
hatred rose from the crowd, and the king's attorney and the examining
magistrate set about drawing up a report of the suicide.

Now that all was over and there was no longer any question of saving the
marshal, M. Moulin desired at least to save the valuables which he had in
his carriage. He found in a cash box 40,000 francs, in the pockets a
snuff-box set with diamonds, and a pair of pistols and two swords; the
hilt of one of these latter was studded with precious stones, a gift from
the ill-starred Selim. M. Moulin returned across the court, carrying
these things. The Damascus blade was wrenched from his hands, and the
robber kept it five years as a trophy, and it was not until the year 1820
that he was forced to give it up to the representative of the marshal's
widow. Yet this man was an officer, and kept his rank all through the
Restoration, and was not dismissed the army till 1830. When M. Moulin
had placed the other objects in safety, he requested the magistrate to
have the corpse removed, as he wished the crowds to disperse, that he
might look after the aides-de camp. While they were undressing the
marshal, in order to certify the cause of death, a leathern belt was
found on him containing 5536 francs. The body was carried downstairs by
the grave-diggers without any opposition being offered, but hardly had
they advanced ten yards into the square when shouts of "To the Rhone! to
the Rhone!" resounded on all sides. A police officer who tried to
interfere was knocked down, the bearers were ordered to turn round; they
obeyed, and the crowd carried them off towards the wooden bridge. When
the fourteenth arch was reached, the bier was torn from the bearers'
hands, and the corpse was flung into the river. "Military honours!"
shouted some one, and all who had guns fired at the dead body, which was
twice struck. "Tomb of Marshal Brune" was then written on the arch, and
the crowd withdrew, and passed the rest of the day in holiday-making.

Meanwhile the Rhone, refusing to be an accomplice in such a cr