The wound in my stomach was progressing favourably, but on the fourth day
the surgeons said my hand was becoming gangrened, and they agreed that
the only remedy was amputation. I saw this announced in the Court Gazette
the next morning, but as I had other views on the matter I laughed
heartily at the paragraph. The sheet was printed at night, after the king
had placed his initials to the copy. In the morning several persons came
to condole with me, but I received their sympathy with great irreverence.
I merely laughed at Count Clary, who said I would surely submit to the
operation; and just as he uttered the words the three surgeons came in
together.

"Well, gentlemen," said I, "you have mustered in great strength; why is
this?"

My ordinary surgeon replied that he wished to have the opinion of the
other two before proceeding to amputation, and they would require to look
at the wound.

The dressing was lifted and gangrene was declared to be undoubtedly
present, and execution was ordered that evening. The butchers gave me the
news with radiant faces, and assured me I need not be afraid as the
operation would certainly prove efficacious.

"Gentlemen," I replied, "you seem to have a great many solid scientific
reasons for cutting off my hand; but one thing you have not got, and that
is my consent. My hand is my own, and I am going to keep it."

"Sir, it is certainly gangrened; by to-morrow the arm will begin to
mortify, and then you will have to lose your arm."