He slept peacefully, and his father watched beside him; with a smile, he banished my fears.

This intrepid young man is no longer in any danger.

May he still be spared in the combat of to-morrow! Adieu, my gentle Eva! the night is silent and calm; the fires of the bivouac are slowly dying out, and our poor mountaineers repose after this bloody day; I can hear, from hour to hour, the distant all's well of our sentinels.

Those foreign words bring back my grief; they remind me of what I sometimes forget in writing--that I am faraway, separated from you and from my child! Poor, beloved beings! what will be your destiny?
Ah! if I could only send you, in time, that medal, which, by a fatal accident, I carried away with me from Warsaw, you might, perhaps, obtain leave to visit France, or at least to send our child there with Dagobert; for you know of what importance--But why add this sorrow to all the rest?
Unfortunately, the years are passing away, the fatal day will arrive, and this last hope, in which I live for you, will also be taken from me: but I will not close the evening by so sad a thought.

Adieu, my beloved Eva! Clasp our child to your bosom, and cover it with all the kisses which I send to both of you from the depths of exile!" "Till to-morrow--after the battle!" The reading of this touching letter was followed by long silence.