behind me, leaving myself a chink by which I could peep out and watch the
movements of the group which was drawing near. Suddenly I felt something
touch my hand; it was a great Corsican dog, which was turned loose at
night, and was so fierce that it was a great protection to our house. I
felt glad to have it at my side, for in case of a struggle it would be no
despicable ally.

Those approaching turned out to be three armed men leading a fourth,
disarmed and a prisoner. They all stopped just opposite my door, which I
gently closed and locked, but as I still wished to see what they were
about, I slipped into the garden, which lay towards the street, still
followed by my dog. Contrary to his habit, and as if he understood the
danger, he gave a low whine instead of his usual savage growl. I climbed
into a fig tree the branches of which overhung the street, and, hidden by
the leaves, and resting my hands on the top of the wall, I leaned far
enough forward to see what the men were about.

They were still on the same spot, but there was a change in their
positions. The prisoner was now kneeling with clasped hands before the
cut-throats, begging for his life for the sake of his wife and children,
in heartrending accents, to which his executioners replied in mocking
tones, "We have got you at last into our hands, have we? You dog of a
Bonapartist, why do you not call on your emperor to come and help you out
of this scrape?" The unfortunate man's entreaties became more pitiful and
their mocking replies more pitiless. They levelled their muskets at him
several times, and then lowered them, saying; "Devil take it, we won't
shoot yet; let us give him time to see death coming," till at last the
poor wretch, seeing there was no hope of mercy, begged to be put out of
his misery.