Into the flank the spur he drave, That sprang at every stroke he made, For, fast as threshers' blows came down On leaping sheaf, Sir Geoffrey pour'd The springing battery of his sword About the quivering Pagan's crown, Who bore up bravely fighting yet, Though reeling from each shock he met, Until at last, quite stunned and spent, Forth thundered an exulting shout Of trailing limbs and body broad, All over shoulders, neck, and breast, But, comrades, hark! the castle bell Chimes midnight: when we meet again I'll tell you further what befel The Princess and her champions twain: Meantime, to bed; ho! strike a lightReach me my staff-and so, good night, A very short time was sufficient to complete the refection of the worthy Herr Hermann, both in lungs and stomach: a few minutes of zealous and devoted application expended in transferring a reasonable quantity of the vintage of the Gironde into the latter, induced that member to hold out' as the diplomatic slang would term it, 'the most friendly assurances of an amicable disposition,' while the silence and calm which necessarily accompanied the operation restored his wind machinery to its original excellent efficiency. All being now in order, and our attention solicited by a deep drawn sigh, which told as much of recent satisfaction as of anticipated exertion, the German thus proceeded with his narration. It would be impossible for me to describe to you the feelings of horror and desperation which overwhelmed the mind of the wretched Prosper, as returning consciousness gradually brought to him a knowledge of his situation. There he sat, to all appearance, a midnight plunderer, and Great God! a thousand times more dreadful, a blood-stained assassin, convicted too, upon proofs so clear and irrefragable, that none could entertain a doubt of his guiltiness. He was innocent, it is true, but alas! the consciousness of being so did not sustain him in this hour of trial, for as he sought to look, with steady and unquailing eye, upon the officer who was busied in taking the depositions of the host and his wife, and making out the proces verbal, the expression of horror and disgust with which he saw he was regarded, chilled his heart, and, unable to abide the look of his examiner, he turned his eyes to the earth in the stupor of utter hopelessness. It was just then that he felt his hand pressed by that of some person whom he did not distinguish, and as he raised his eyes once more for the purpose of discovering who it was, and, as it might be, seeking for some friendly protector amongst that fearful crowd of enemies that surrounded him, he recognised, by the military uniform which he wore, that the surgeon of the demi-brigade, quartered at Andernach, stood beside him. The gaze of scrutiny, with which this man regarded him, was so penetrating, so stern, so annihilating, that it crushed again the scarce reviving spirit of the unhappy youth; his whole frame shook with a cold convulsive tremor, and his head sunk helplessly upon the back of his chair; a bottle of smelling salts was, however, quickly procured, and one of the soldiers who stood by, having forced him to respire it, he again recovered the animation that seemed well nigh extinguished for ever. "I fear, captain, it is quite impossible to interrogate the young man just now." As he opened his dim and haggard each person, that with every step eyes, all light of life and intelligence swelled the throng, or discoursed about appeared to be so utterly quenched the horrible deed of which they supwithin them, that the surgeon, after posed the young man guilty, the sight having felt the pulse of Prosper, shook of the bright and tranquil heaven his head doubtingly, as he replied to spreading above, the fresh breath of the inquiring glance of the officer. the morning air, the view of Andernach as it rose just before them, the heaving and swelling of the waters of the Rhine, all these passed in hurried review before his senses, and crowded into his brain, even at that fearful moment, but the impressions which they left there, were, like those that flit away from before the eyes of the dreamer as he awakes from slumber, vague, and dim, and undefinable, and there were moments, as Prosper himself afterwards told me, when he doubted whether he existed in this world or not. "Well, well, then take him away for the present," replied the captain, interrupting the surgeon, and addressing himself to a corporal who stood behind the chair of Prosper, "take him away for the present, and see that he is kept under close arrest." "Sacré !" whispered the corporal in a deep, yet energetic tone, as he stooped over him, "can't you contrive, you pitiful coward, at least to march steadily before these German mastiffs, if it be only for the honour of the republic." This cutting reproach was not with out effect: Prosper Magnan roused himself for a moment, he rose up from the chair and advanced a few paces forward, but as soon as the door was opened, and he felt the chill stream of external air rush upon him, and saw the crowd pressing in from without, his presence of mind and strength deserted him altogether, his knees bent beneath him, he staggered back."Diable! he would deserve to lose two lives, if he had them, for discharging that musket," muttered the corporal. "Marche donce," said the two soldiers who supported him on each side with their arms. "Oh! the villain! the villain! Here he comes-that's he-look at him! look at him!" Such were the exclamations that assailed him on every side, and which seemed rather to proceed from a single voice-the tumultuous voice of the enraged crowd, as they accompanied him with shouts of insult and opprobrious epithets, becoming louder and more violent every step they went. "While he thus walked, or to speak more truly, was dragged along, from the auberge to the prison, the clamour and disturbance which the people and the soldiers made as they marched along, the murmuring of the multitude as they answered the hasty inquiries of At the period when this strange event happened-said M. Hermann, interrupting his narrative to explain to us how he had become so intimately acquainted with all the circumstances of his tale.-At the period when this strange event happened, it was my own fortune to be confined in prison. Full of ardour and enthusiasm, as we are indeed all apt to be when we have but the experience of twenty years to guide us-for at that time I reckoned no more-it was the dearest wish of my heart to defend my native land. At my own expense I raised, and organised in the neighbourhood of Andernach, a company of volunteers, and placed myself immediately at their head; unfortunately, however, I fell during the night, into the midst of a detachment of the French army, com posed of about eight hundred men, while our little band did not, I suppose, at the most, amount to two hundred, I found, when too late, that my own scouts had sold me to the enemy. Resistance was in vain; it would be only a useless sacrifice of human life.. I surrendered, and was immediately cast into prison at Andernach, while, in the mean time, it was strongly urged that I should be shot, for the sake of showing a public example, calculated to intimidate that part of the country. The French too, at the time, spoke a good deal about reprisals, but in truth the murders-if I am justified in so calling them for which the republican party wished to draw down vengeance upon my head, had not been committed in the Electorate. My father had obtained with some difficulty a delay of the proceedings in my case for three days, in order that he might have time to go to General Augereau himself and endeavour to obtain my pardon; he was fortunate enough to effect an interview with that General, who, after some difficulty, granted his request. It was just at that time that I happened to see Prosper Magnan, as he was led into the prison at Andernach, and that sight inspired me involuntarily with profound commiseration and inexpressible interest for one apparently so young and so unfortunate. He was pallid and haggard in the extreme, and his garments were dabbled all over with blood; yet his countenance bore the characters of candour and innocence so forcibly stamped upon it, that I felt myself irresistibly impelled towards the young man. Besides, what still more strongly appealed to my own feelings, the very spirit of Germany seemed to dwell in his light and flowing tresses, and within his blue eyes. These were, in my sight, the true tokens of my own loved and suffering land, and he no longer appeared to me to be a murderer, but a martyr. Just at the instant when he passed by beneath the window of my cell, he cast towards me a bitter and melancholy smile, which words cannot enable me to describe-a smile of one upon whose wandering and distracted mind the flickering light of reason has for a moment returned-assuredly that smile did not belong to an assassin. The impression which the sight of this unhappy youth left upon my mind was, as I said before, very powerful, and not likely to be readily effaced; accordingly, I waited with the utmost anxiety the hour when his usual round of duty should lead the jailer to visit my solitary apartment. At length it came, and no sooner did the man make his appearance, than I questioned him eagerly concerning the young person who had in the morning been led by my window to prison. My first impression was, that he might probably have been, like myself, involved in some unsuccessful struggle for the liberties of his country VOL. IV. my doubts on that head, however, were speedily dissipated. "No, no," said the keeper, in answer to my query, "that's the trade of honester folks belike. The young villain cut the throat of a German merchant with whom he slept last night in the inn yonder." "Has he confessed his guilt ?" I asked, still clinging to the hope of his innocence. 66 "Confess!" said the jailer, "Oh no, the fellow's too dogged for that, I fancy. He has never opened his lips since he set foot in the dungeon, but sits all the while with his head between his hands, and for aught I can tell is fast asleep, if the thought of his sins don't keep him waking. Well, to-morrow morning will close his accounts, for they say he is to be shot in twenty-four hours. Tonnere de Dieu! powder and shot is too good for him; such chaps would be better fruit for the gallows tree;" and muttering something about "looking through the wards and having no time for gossiping," he flung out of the apartment. I know not why it was, but I could not endure to think that the poor youth was guilty of so dreadful a crime: that ingenuous and guileless, though distracted look, still dwelt upon my recollection, and appealed to my heart in his favour. Upon that evening I spent beneath the window of the prisoner's cell, the few short minutes which were daily allowed me to indulge in walking up and down the court-yard of the pri son. I attracted his notice, and beguiled him to enter into conversation. with me, and he disclosed the whole circumstances of his misfortune to me, simply and without disguise, while the answers which he returned to my numerous questions discovered a pure mind and a just understanding. After the first conversation which I had with Prosper Magnan, not a shadow of doubt with regard to his innocence remained upon my mind. As my own captivity was of an honourable description, I requested as a favour, and obtained permission to remain a few hours with him in his cell, and from that time I saw him on several occasions, during which the unfortunate young man disburthened his whole soul to me, and scrutinized every thought of his heart. G How strange it was, have I often since reflected, that the mysterious occurrence of that fatal night should cloud the conscience with a stain of guilt when the hand had never perpetrated the crime, and even the heart had successfully struggled against it. Such however, was the fact, and it exhibited powerfully how terrible is the responsibility of man even for the secret and unaccomplished cogitations of his spirit. At first he believed, at one and the same moment, that he was innocent and guilty of the heinous crime with which he was charged; for when he recalled to mind the horrible temptation which had assailed him, although he had finally found his virtuous resolution sufficient to resist its influence, the dreadful thought flashed upon him that he had, during the moments of slumber and in an unhappy fit of somnambulism, actually perpetrated that crime which had, while awake, so powerfully occupied his thoughts. "But your companion ?" said I to Prosper, as we conversed together. Oh!" cried he, interrupting me with generous ardour, "Wilhelm is incapable " "No," he continued after a pause, "he never could have committed such an act." He uttered these words with an expression so full of youthful enthusiasm and friendship that it touched my heart. I could make no answer, so I pressed his hand in silence. "When he awoke," resumed Prosper, "he must no doubt have been greatly terrified, I suppose he lost all presence of mind and fled away from the inn." What," said I, "without awaking 66 you ?” "However," I added, “your defence will be easy and certain, inasmuch as the vallise of Walhenfer has not been plundered." For a moment he became thoughtful, then all of a sudden tears gushed into his eyes, and grasping my hand with eagerness, he passionately exclaimed, "Oh! yes, yes, I am indeed innocent-I know that I am. I never killed him. See, I have at length called to mind my dreams of last night; alas! they were of scenes far away, in the happy days of my boyhood. I thought that I was enjoying our sports at college, pitching the bar with my comrades-No, I never could in sleep have cut the throat of the merchant, when I fled with terror from the crime while awake." Still, despite of this light of hope which had flowed in upon the darkness of his soul and afforded, at times, tranquillity to his troubled conscience, he continually felt his heart crushed and torn by the remorse that preyed upon it. He knew too well that he had indeed lifted up his arm with the intention of depriving the merchant of life. He arraigned his own conduct with strict severity, and he could not pronounce his heart pure after having committed the dreadful crime even in his thoughts. At other times the tide of his feelings would take another direction, and almost forgetting his mis fortune as it more immediately affected himself, he would bitterly bewail the affliction in which it would plunge those who were dearer to him than life. "Oh my poor mother," he would' cry, "how will she endure to hear it." And then his mind would hurry him away to the scenes of his peaceful home, and with that unaccountable perversity of feeling-which we would not know how to credit did not experience put it beyond the reach of philosophy to question-turn away from the objects which should absorb its contemplation, to dwell for a moment upon some minute and trifling accident of the picture before it. 66 "Yes," he would proceed, the melancholy languor of his features almost relaxing into a smile, "perhaps even at this very moment she is seated happy and sinless amid the circle of her worthy neighbours; there, there, I see her in her little salon hung with tapestry O God! could she only know that I dared even lift this hand to murder a fellow-creature, she would never survive it. And yet, Almighty Power! I am in prison, accused too of having perpetrated that very crime-oh! wretch, there is no escape: for me from guilt: if I have not been his murderer, I will too surely be the murderer of my mother." As the wretched Prosper spoke these last words, his tears ceased to flow, while his swoln and blood-shot eyes |