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 me, I could not be deceived, for he was the only person in Boulogne who knew that I had escaped from the Bagne.

Many soldiers of different ranks came against their will to fill up a chamber in which were assembled the principal leaders of the army de la Lune. Very seldom in the prison of so small a town, was there seen a more singular assemblage of delinquents; the 'prevôt,' that is, the elder of our room, named Lelievre, was a poor devil of a soldier, who condemned to death three years before, had perpetually before him the chance of the termination of the respite by virtue of which he still existed. The emperor, to whose mercy he had been recommended, had pardoned him; but as the pardon had not been registered, and as the indispensable official papers had not been transmitted to the chief judge, Lelievre continued a prisoner; and all that could be done in favor of this unfortunate being, was to suspend the execution until the moment when an opportunity should present itself of again calling the emperor's attention to his case. In this state, in which his life was uncertain, Lelievre deliberated between the hope of freedom and the fear of death; he laid down to sleep with the one, and awoke with the other. Every evening he thought himself sure of his liberty, and every morning he expected to be shot; sometimes gay even to folly, sometimes dull and spiritless, he never enjoyed a moment of equable calm. If he played a game of draughts or matrimony, he paused in the midst of it, threw down the cards, and striking his forehead with his clenched hands, jumped from his seat, and raving like a madman, he ended by flinging himself on his bed, where lying on his face, he remained for hours in a state of mental depression. The hospital was Lelievre's house of pleasure; and if he got wearied, he went there for consolation from sister Alexandrine who had a most tender heart, and sympathised with all the wretched. This compassionate sister was deeply interested in the prisoner, and Lelievre deserved