en and his body one leprous contagion from crown to sole, hunted forth to gasp out the remnant of infectious life beneath those verdant trees, so he might shun the destiny upon whose edge he tottered! Vain thoughts like these would steal over his mind from time to time in spite of himself, but they scarcely moved it from that stupor into which it had sunk, and which kept him during the whole night like one who had been drugged with opium. He was equally insensible to the calls of hunger and of thirst, though the third day was now commencing since even a drop of water had passed his lips. He remained on the ground, sometimes sitting, sometimes lying, at intervals sleeping heavily, and when not sleeping silently brooding over what was to come, or talking aloud in disordered speech of his wrongs, of his friends, of his home and of those he loved, with a confused mingling of all. In this pitiable condition the sixth and last morning dawned upon Vivenzio, if dawn it might be called, the dim obscure light which faintly struggled through the ONE solitary window of his dungeon. He could hardly be said to notice the melancholy token. And yet he did notice it, for as he raised his eyes and saw the portentous sign there was a slight convulsive distortion of his countenance. But what did attract his notice, and at the sight of which his agitation was excessive, was the change his iron bed had undergone. It was a bed no longer it stood before him the visible semblance of a funeral-couch or bier. When | he beheld this, he started from the ground, and in raising himself suddenly struck his head against the roof, which was now so low that he could no longer stand upright. "God's will be done!" was all he said as he crouched sim his body and placed his hand upon the bier; for such it was. The iron bedstead had been so contrived by the mechanical art of Ludovico Sforza that as the advancing walls came in contact with its head and feet a pressure was produced upon concealed springs which when made to play set in motion a very ple though ingeniously contrived machinery that effected the transformation. The object was, of course, to heighten in the closing scene of this horrible drama all the feelings of despair and anguish which the preceding ones had aroused. For the same reason, the last window was so made as to admit only a shadowy kind of gloom rather than light, that the wretched captive might be surrounded, as it were, with every seeming preparation for approaching death. Vivenzio seated himself on his bier. Then he knelt and prayed fervently, and sometimes tears would gush from him. The air seemed thick and he breathed with difficulty, or it might be that he fancied it was so, from the hot and narrow limits of his dungeon, which were now so diminished that he could neither stand up nor lie down at his full length. But his wasted spirits and oppressed mind no longer struggled within him. He was past hope, and fear shook him no more. Happy if thus revenge had struck its final blow, for he would have fallen beneath it almost unconscious of a pang. But such a lethargy of the soul, after such an excitement of its fiercest passions, had entered into the diabolical calculations of Tolfi, and the fell artificer of his designs had imagined a counteracting device. The tolling of an enormous bell struck upon the ears of Vivenzio. He started. It beat but once. The sound was so close once. Just at this critical moment, when the emperor was giving an order for a simultaneous attack by his whole force, two long dark columns of thirty thousand each, the united force of Blucher and Bulow, came pouring over the hills, down upon the torn and bleeding flank of Napoleon's exhausted troops. Thus an army of sixty thousand fresh soldiers, nearly equal to Napoleon's whole force at the commencement of the conflict, with exultant hurrahs and bugle-peals and thundering artillery, came rushing upon the plain. It was an awful moment. It was a thunderbolt of Fate. and stunning that it seemed to shatter his he could hold out but a short time longer. very brain, while it echoed through the As he saw his lines melting away he rerocky passages like reverberating peals of peatedly looked at his watch, and then thunder. This was followed by a sudden fixed his gaze upon the distant hills, and crash of the roof and walls, as if they were as he wiped the perspiration which mental about to fall upon and close around him at anguish extorted from his brow he exVivenzio screamed and instinctively claimed, "Would to Heaven that Blucher spread forth his arms, as though he had a or night would come!" giant's strength to hold them back. They had moved nearer to him, and were now motionless. Vivenzio looked up, and saw the roof almost touching his head even as he sat cowering beneath it, and he felt that a further contraction of but a few inches only must commence the frightful operation. Roused as he had been, he now gasped for breath. His body shook violently. He was bent nearly double; his hands rested upon either wall and his feet were drawn under him to avoid the pressure in front. Thus he remained for more than an hour, when that deafening bell beat again, and again there came the crash of horrid death. But the concussion was now so great that it struck Vivenzio down. As he lay gathered up in lessened bulk the bell beat loud and frequent, crash succeeded crash, and on and on and on came the mysterious engine of death, till Vivenzio's smothered groans were heard no more. He was horribly crushed by the ponderous roof and collapsing sides, and the flattened bier was his iron shroud. "It is almost certain," says General Jomini, who had deserted to the allies and was at this time aid-de-camp to the emperor Alexander, "that Napoleon would have remained master of the field of battle but for the arrival of sixty-five thousand Prussians on his rear." The emperor's wasted bands were now in the extreme of exhaustion. For eight hours every physical energy had been tasked to its utmost endurance by such a conflict as the world had seldom seen before. Twenty thousand of his soldiers were either bleeding upon the ground or motionless in death. He had now less than fifty thousand men to oppose to one hundred and fifty thousand. Wellington during the day had brought up some additional forces from The intelligent French soldiers instantly perceived the desperate state of their affairs, but, undismayed, they stood firm, waiting only for the command of their emperor. The allied army saw at a glance its advantage, and a shout of exultation burst simultaneously from their lips. The emperor, with that wonderful coolness which never forsook him, promptly recalled the order for a general charge, and by a very rapid and skilful series of manoeuvres as by magic so changed the front of his army as to face the Prussians advancing upon his right and the lines of Wellington before him. his rear, and could now oppose the emperor Both armies gazed with awe upon the scene. with numbers three to one. The destinies of Napoleon, of France, of Europe, were suspended upon the issues of a moment. The fate of the world trembled in the balance. Not a drum beat the charge. Not a bugle uttered its inspiriting tones. Not a cheer escaped the lips of those proud, indomitable men. Silently, sternly, unflinchingly, they strode on till they arrived within a few yards of the batteries and bayonets which the genius of Wellington had arrayed to meet them. There was a flash as of intensest lightning gleaming along the British lines. A peal as of crashing thunder burst upon the plain. A tempest of bullets, shot, shells, and all the horrible missiles of war, fell like hailstones upon the living mass, and whole battalions melted away and were trampled in the bloody mire by the still advancing host. Defiant of death, the intrepid guard, closing up its decimated ranks, pressed on and pierced the British line. Every cannon, every musket, which could be brought to bear was directed to this unfaltering and terrible foe. Ney in the course of a few moments had five horses shot beneath him; then, with drawn sabre, he marched on foot at the head of his men. Napoleon gazed with intense anxiety upon with intense anxiety upon the progress of this heroic band till, enveloped in clouds of smoke, it was lost to sight. Everything depended now upon one desperate charge by the imperial guard before the Prussians, trampling down their feeble and exhausted opponents, could blend their squadrons with the battalions of Wellington. The emperor placed himself at the head of this devoted and invincible band and advanced in front of the British lines, apparently intending himself to lead the charge, but the officers of his staff entreated him to remember that the safety of France depended solely upon him. Yielding to their solicitations, he resigned the command to Ney. The scene now presented was one of the most sublime which war has ever furnished. The imperial guard had never yet moved but in the path of victory. As these renowned battalions, in two immense columns, descended the one eminence and ascended the other to oppose their bosoms to point blank discharges from batteries double-shotted or loaded to the muzzle with grape, there was a moment's lull in the storm of battle. At the same moment the Prussians came rushing upon the field with infantry, cavalry and artillery, entirely overpowering the feeble and exhausted squadrons left to oppose them. A gust of wind swept away the smoke, and as the anxious eye of Napoleon pierced the tumult of the battle to find his guard it had disappeared; almost to a man they were weltering in blood. A mortal pale |