href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@31901@[email protected]#link2HCH0034" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">CHAPTER XXXIV.   THE CHOUANS

CHAPTER XXXV.   THE REIGN OF TERROR UNDER THE CONSULATE

CHAPTER XXXVI.   THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE

CHAPTER XXXVII.   THE TRIAL

CHAPTER XXXVIII.     THE CUIRASSIER

CHAPTER XXXIX.   A MORNING AT THE TUILLERIES

CHAPTER XL.   A NIGHT IN THE TUILERIES GARDENS

CHAPTER XLI.   A STORY OF THE YEAR '92

CHAPTER XLII.   THE HALL OF THE MARSHALS

CHAPTER XLIII.   THE MARCH ON THE DANUBE

CHAPTER XLIV.   THE CANTEEN

CHAPTER XLV.   THE "VIVANDIÈRE OF THE FOURTH"

ILLUSTRATIONS

Law and Physic in the Chamber of Death

The Curse

The Struggle

Saldin Danceth a Lively Measure

Tom Receives a Strange Visitor

Peeping Tom

May Good Digestion Wait on Appetite

Darby Exchanges Compliments With a "sodger"

Monsieur Crillac's Salon

The Rose of Provence

The Lady of the Lake

The Chouans

Capture of the "Red-beard"

The Templars

The Witness

Napoleon Sends Burke from the Room

The Scene Shifted

The "big Pioche" Indulging in Delicacies

Tom Masters the "maitre D'armes"

Minnet and Pioche

TO MISS EDGEWORTH.

Madam,—This weak attempt to depict the military life of France, during the brief but glorious period of the Empire, I beg to dedicate to you. Had the scene of this, like that of my former books, been laid chiefly in Ireland, I should have felt too sensibly my own inferiority to venture on the presumption of such a step. As it is, I never was more conscious of the demerits of my volume than when inscribing it to you; but I cannot resist the temptation of being, even thus, associated with a name,—the first in my country's literature.

Another motive I will not conceal,—the ardent desire I have to assure you, that, amid the thousands you have made better, and wiser, and happier, by your writings, you cannot count one who feels more proudly the common tie of country with you, nor more sincerely admires your goodness and your genius, than

Your devoted and obedient servant,

CHARLES J. LEVER.

Temple-O, Nov. 25, 1848.

PREFATORY EPISTLE FROM MR. BURKE.

My dear O'Flaherty,—It seems that I am to be the "next devoured." Well, be it so; my story, such as it is, you shall have. Only one condition would I bargain for,—that you seriously disabuse your readers of the notion that the life before them was one either of much pleasure or profit. I might moralize a little here about neglected opportunities and mistaken opinions; but, as I am about to present you with my narrative, the moral—if there be one—need not