land, whither with great trouble his companions had carried him back. The firing at Carra was a false alarm.

Ramerino then declaring that all was lost, refused to go further, and ordered a retreat.

During this time, a column of a hundred men, of whom a certain number of French republicans formed a part, set out from Grenoble, and traversed the frontiers of Savoy. But the French prefect warned the Sardinian authorities; the republicans were attacked by night unexpectedly, near the grottoes of the Echelles, and dispersed, after the combat of an hour. In this combat the Sardinian soldiers made two prisoners: Angelo Voluntieri and Joseph Borrel. Conducted voluntarily to Chambéry and condemned to death, they were shot upon the same sod which still smoked with the blood of Effico Tolla.

Thus terminated that unfortunate expedition which was called in France the rash enterprise of St. Juliano.

CHAPTER VI.

THE GOD OF GOOD PEOPLE.

I HAD received my appointed task in the movement which was to have taken place, and had accepted it without hesitation.

I had entered myself, in the service of the State, as a sailor of the first-class on board the frigate l'Eurydice. My mission was to make proselytes there for the Revolution; and I acquitted myself in the best manner I was able. In the event of the movement succeeding, I and my companions were to seize the frigate and place it at the disposal of the republicans.

But in my ardour I was not satisfied with performing this part. I had heard that a movement was to be effected at Genoa, and that in this movement the barracks of the gendarmes, situated on the Place de Sar

zana, were to be seized. I left to my companions the charge of carrying the ship, and, at the hour when the movement was expected to break out in Genoa, I dropped a boat into the sea, and descended to the douane. From thence, in two bounds, I was on the Place Sarzana, where, as I have said, the barracks were situated.

There I waited for nearly an hour; but no meeting was formed. It was soon said that the affair had got wind, and that the republicans had fled; to which it was added that arrests had been made.

As I had only engaged myself in the Sardinian marine to serve the republican movement which was preparing, I deemed it useless to return on board the Eurydice, and began to think of escape. At the moment I was making these reflections, some troops, doubtless informed of the project of the republicans to gain possession of the barracks of the gendarmerie, began to surround the place.

I perceived I had no time to lose. I took refuge in the house of a fruiterer, and confessed to her the situation in which I was placed.

The excellent woman did not hesitate a moment; she concealed me in her back shop, procured me the disguise of a countryman, and in the evening, about eight o'clock, with the pace of one who walked for pleasure, I left Genoa, thus commencing that life of exile, struggle, and persecution which I have not, according to all probability, entirely seen the end of.

It was the 5th of February, 1834. Without following any route, I directed my course towards the mountain. I had many gardens to cross, many walls to climb over. By good luck, I was familiar with this sort of exercise, and after an hour's gymnastics I was clear of the last garden, outside of the last wall.

Directing my course towards Cassiopea, I gained the mountains of Sestre. At the end of ten days, or rather of ten nights, I arrived at Nice, and went straight to the house of my aunt, in the Place de la Victoria, de

siring to avoid alarming my mother by my sudden appearance.

There I rested for a day, and on the following night set off again, accompanied by two friends, Joseph Janu and Ange Gustavini. When we arrived on the banks of the Var we found it swelled by rains; but for a swimmer like myself this was no obstacle. I crossed it, half wading half swimming. My two friends remained on the other side of the river, and I waved my hand to them as a signal of farewell.

I was safe, or nearly so, as will be seen.

So confident was I of this, that I went straight to a corps de garde of douaniers, told them who I was, and why I had quitted Genoa. The douaniers told me they must consider me their prisoner till fresh orders, and that these orders must be sent for to Paris. Not doubting that I should soon find an opportunity to escape, I made no resistance. I allowed myself to be taken to Grasse and from Grasse to Draguignan.

At Draguignan I was placed in a chamber on the first story, the open window of which looked into the garden. I approached the window, as if to look at the landscape; from the window to the ground it was but about fifteen feet. I sprang out, and the douaniers, less nimble, or having more regard for their legs than I had, made the grand tour by the staircase. I gained the road, and from the road I threw myself into the mountain.

I did not at all know the route: but I was a sailor. If the land failed me, the heavens were left, that vast book in which I was accustomed to read my way. I found my position by means of the stars, and directed my course towards Marseilles.

On the evening of the next day I arrived at a village the name of which I have never known, having had something else to do than to ask it.

I entered an auberge. A young man and a young woman were warming themselves near the table, which was prepared for supper. I asked for something to eat,

The

having taken nothing since the preceding night. supper was good, the vin du pays pleasant, the fire cheering. I experienced one of those moments of happiness which are felt after a past danger, when we think there is nothing else to be feared.

My host complimented me upon my good appetite and my cheerful countenance. I told him there was nothing extraordinary in my appetite, for I had not eaten for eighteen hours. As to my cheerful countenance, the explanation was not less simple; in my own country I had probably just escaped death,—in France, imprisonment.

Having advanced so far, I could not well make a secret of the rest. My host appeared so frank, his wife appeared so good, that I related all to them. Then, to my great astonishment, the brow of my host darkened.

"Well," asked I, "what is the matter with you?" "This," replied he; "after having heard the confession you have made, I conceive it is my duty to arrest you."

I laughed aloud, not wishing to appear to think him in earnest. Besides, one against one, there was not the man in the world I feared.

"Very well," said I; "arrest me, then; it will be time enough for that when we come to the dessert. Let me finish my supper, if I pay you double. I am still hungry. And I continued to eat without appearing at all uneasy. But I soon perceived that if my host stood in need of assistance to accomplish the project he had named, it would not be wanting.

His auberge was the rendezvous of the young fellows of the village, who came there every evening to drink, smoke, learn the news, and talk politics. The customary society assembled by degrees, and there were soon about half a score young men in the auberge, who commenced playing at cards.

The host said nothing more about arresting me, but nevertheless he kept his eye on me. To be sure, as I had neither luggage nor parcel, my wardrobe was no

guarantee for my reckoning. I had a few crowns in my pocket, so I chinked them, and the sound appeared to tranquillize him.

I chose the moment when one of the drinkers had just finished, amidst loud bravos, a song which had had the greatest success, and, glass in hand

"It is my turn," said I; and I began le Dieu des bonnes gens. If I had had no other vocation, I could have been a good singer. I have a tenor voice which, if it had been cultivated, might have acquired great power. The verses of Béranger, the freedom with which they were sung, the fraternity of the chorus, the popularity of the poet, carried away all my auditors. They made me repeat two or three couplets, and embraced me at the last, crying, "Vive Béranger! Vive la France! Vive l'Italie !"

After such a success, there could be no more question about arresting me; my host did not breathe another word of it, so that I have never known whether he spoke seriously or was joking.

The night was spent in drinking, singing, and playing; and at daybreak the whole joyous band offered to be my escort-an honour which I accepted, upon condition that we did not separate till the end of six miles.

Certes, Béranger died without knowing the service he had rendered me.

CHAPTER VII.

I ENTER INTO THE SERVICE OF THE REPUBLIC OF

RIO-GRANDE.

I ARRIVED at Marseilles without accident, twenty days after quitting Genoa.—No, I am mistaken; one accident happened to me, which I read in the Peuple Souverain. I was condemned to death.

That was the first time I had the honour of seeing my name printed in a journal; and as it had become