“Let ’em beat that if they can,” he muttered confidently. “I can see from the looks of the jury that they’ve made up their minds already.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
HE WANTED TO KNOW.
It was customary with the French marshal, Bassompierre, when any one of his soldiers were brought before him for heinous offenses, to say to him: “By heavens, brother, you or I will certainly be hanged!” which was a sufficient indication of their fate.
A spy, being discovered in his camp, was addressed in these terms; and next day, as the provost was carrying the culprit to the gallows, he pressed earnestly for leave to speak with the marshal, alleging that he had something of importance to communicate.
The marshal, being made acquainted with his request, exclaimed, in his customary rough and hasty manner:
“It is the way of these rascals; when ordered for execution, they pretend some frivolous story, merely to reprieve themselves for a few moments. However, bring the dog hither.”
When the culprit made his appearance, the marshal asked him what he had to say.
“Why, my lord,” replied he, “when I first had the honor of your conversation, you were obliging enough to say that either you or I should be hanged; now I come to know whether it is your pleasure to be so; because, if you won’t I must, that’s all!”
Needless to say that the rascal was pardoned.