And though fate had not favored him now, some day it would avenge him, avenge him on the tyrant Napoleon.

It would hurl him from his height, crush him into the dust, trample him under foot, as he now trampled under his feet the rights and the liberties of the nations.
There was comfort, genuine consolation in this thought.

It made death easy.
The dawn grew brighter.

Crimson clouds floated from all directions across the sky! Perhaps he would be summoned in half an hour.
No, not even half an hour's delay.

His executioners were punctual.