hensions; and had I found it, I should certainly have committed suicide. Fortunately I had left it at home, or it would have been buried, in that moment of frenzy, in the carotid artery; for as well as others, I knew exactly where to find it.
The crowd at length began to disperse; the windows were left, except now and then an urchin of a boy shewed his ragged head at the grille. Worn out with bodily fatigue and mental suffering, I was going to throw myself along upon the cold stones, when I saw the face of my own servant, who advanced in haste to the window of the prison, exclaiming with joy—
"Courage, mon cher maitre; Monsieur Talbot n'est pas mort."
"Not dead!" exclaimed I, (falling unconsciously on my knees, and lifting up my clasped hands and haggard eyes to Heaven): "not dead! God be praised. At least there is a hope that I may escape the crime of murder."
