UNCLE PAUL went up to his room and came back with a book.

“What I am going to read to you is from a mounted artilleryman, more expert in the art of the pen than in that of the cannon. At the beginning of this century a French army occupied Calabria. Our gunner belonged to it. Here is a letter he wrote to his cousin:

“‘One day I was traveling in Calabria. It is a country of bad people who love no one and have a special spite against the French. It would take too long to tell you why; enough that they mortally hate us and one is sure of a bad time if one falls into their hands.

“‘My companion was a young man. In these mountains the roads are precipices; our horses could hardly climb them. My comrade was in front. A path that seemed to him shorter and more practicable misled us. It was my fault. Ought I to have put my trust in a man of twenty years? As long as daylight lasted we tried to find our way through the woods; but the more we tried the more bewildered we got, and it was pitch dark when we reached a dimly lighted house. We entered, not without suspicion, but what could we do?

“‘There we found a charcoal-burner and all his family at table, to which they immediately invited us. My young man needed no urging. We sat down, eating and drinking, or he at least, for I busied myself examining the place and the countenances of our hosts. They had the appearance of charcoal-burners, but the house might have been taken for an arsenal. It was full of guns, pistols, sabers, knives, cutlasses. It all displeased me, and I saw well that I on my part was equally displeasing to our entertainers.

“‘My comrade, on the contrary, made himself one of the family; he laughed, chaffed with them, and, with an imprudence that I ought to have foreseen, told them at the very first whence we came, whither we were going, who we were. Frenchmen, imagine it! Amongst our most mortal enemies, alone, lost, far from all human aid; and then, to add to our probable ruin, he acted the rich man, promising these people whatever they wished in payment and for the hire of guides on the morrow. Finally, he spoke of his valise, begging them to be very careful of it and to put it at the head of his bed: he said he did not wish any other bolster. Ah! youth, youth, how your immaturity is to be pitied! Cousin, you would have thought we were carrying the crown diamonds!’”

“That young man was certainly very imprudent,” commented Jules. “Could he not hold his tongue, seeing he was in the hands of wicked people?”

“Silence is very difficult for giddy, careless young persons. I will go on:

“‘Supper finished, they left us. Our hosts slept below, we in the upper room where we had eaten. A loft seven or eight feet high, reached by a ladder, was the bed that awaited us—a kind of nest that one got into by crawling under joists laden with provisions for a year. My comrade climbed up alone and was soon asleep, his head on the precious valise; I determined to watch, so made a good fire and sat down by it.

“&............