could be heard but "Buonaparte," and "Diable;" the louder he spoke, the more boisterous was our mirth, until, frantic with rage, he drew his sword, rushed forward, and thrust it through the grated hole in the door, stamped, and swore in such a foaming passion, that when the storm of derision was over, he could scarcely articulate:—
"Each passion dimm'd his face,
Thrice changed with pale ire, envy, and despair."
It was sometime before we ceased laughing at this truly ridiculous event, for we had forgotten the boyish frolic alluded to, and had not the least idea that it could be thought of sufficient importance to cause an official report, and an order by a "courier de la republique," that we should be cast into prison. No sooner had the gendarmes retired, than the jailor supplied us with clean straw, and set his family cooking, so that we fared very well, in this otherwise miserable den. On the 4th, 5th, and 6th, we marched on, and, in default of prisons, were quartered in the
