27 " In the beginning of the next year you will' kill your mother, the French Republic, and you will be Emperor until the month of April, 1 8 5 8 . " You killed the Republic in December, 1851, and soon after ward you was proclaimed Emperor. You ought to be satisfied. You have been married and you have an heir—you ought to bo delighted. But the year 1858 is near, very near us, and you will fall in the course of that year ; not like Charles the Tenth, with dignity; nor like Louis Philippe, with the disdain of the people. Y o u will fall poorly, like a vulgar wheedler, by the act of your soldiers, whom you have accustomed to have no faith, no honor, no honesty, to betray their oaths; they believe neither in God nor in Devil. Y o u will gather the fruit of the seeds you have propagated in their hearts. Your soldiers, some morning, being tired of you and having nothing else to do, will put a rope around your neck, and the next tree will avenge your numerous victims." Our conversation was interrupted by Bivors, who said it was time to go to the colonial hospital. Paon handed me a manuscript, in which his escape was rela ted. It was written in French ; I have translated it into English—that is all. I give that relation exactly as I received it. LEON CHAUTARD. " A U G U S T 25th, 1856.
" I was put in prison without any judgment, in the month of June, 1 8 4 8 . Since that time I have been travelling through the world like the Wandering Jew, and, from prison to prison, from cell to cell, I am arrived at the granite patch called Devil's Island. " E v e r y t h i n g is dull around me. On my left is Royal Island, the residence of the criminal; on my right is St. Joseph Island, where I was so miserable for two years—where I had, for eighteen months, a large iron ring on my leg, with big chains twelve feet long, and ended by a cannon ball weighing twenty-five pounds—(I Avas working the whole day, gratis pro deo, with these jewels, and I slept with them ;)—where I had dry bread for my eating, stagnant water for my drinking, and eighteen inches of room for my lying down, (and I am under the equatorial line, too, remember!) Before me, just opposite, is Kourou, where twelve thousand o f my countrymen died of famine, under the reign of Louis the Fifteenth, the corrupt monarch. " For how long am I in this place 1 I don't exactly know, but I think it is for all my life. Nothing but my death can satisfy my cruel enemies; nothing but an escape can deliver me. Then I must escape or die. Death is a trifle for a man