DEATH OF SIMON L' AttCHER. 133 



abandon him. He tottered and fell. The poor man made 

 almost superhuman efforts to drag himself, with the aid of 

 his son, to the door of his hut; his last and only hope being 

 to expire in the arms of his wife, and in this he succeeded, 

 but had not spoken since. 



" We placed him on the bed, and in a few hours he rendered 

 his last sigh. 



" About three months subsequently I happened to be on a 

 royal shooting-party at Fro main ville. The king was dis- 

 appointed with the sport. 



" 'Compte,' said he, ' we want your protege here; apropos, 

 what has become of poor Simon ? Does he still read the 

 newspapers V 



" ' Alas ! sire, it is now three months since he expiated 

 with his life his incorrigible taste for poaching;' and I related 

 to the king the scene I had witnessed. 



" ' This does not astonish me in the least, Compte,' said the 

 king, gently placing his hand upon my arm. ' This man was 

 a liberal in his own way. He saw so many rights called into 

 question ; he read so many fine speeches about hereditary 

 robberies, and theft sanctioned by the customs of centuries, 

 that he, poor devil, who had no interest in the higher sphere 

 of politics, adapted the application of these grand principles 

 to matters of nearer relation to him. He attacked the king's 

 game as others attack his crown. Ah ! Compte, your makers 

 of fine phrases do a great deal of mischief.' 



" l And, perhaps, sire, they will be the first to repent 

 of it.' 



" At this momsiit the cries of the drivers announced the 

 approach of the game. The king took his gun, and the 

 cliasse continued." 



