No More Learning

O glorious King, O happy state, O palace of the blest!
O sacred place and holy joy, and perfect, heavenly rest!
To thee aspire thy citizens in glory's bright array,
And what they feel and what they know they strive in vain to say.
For while we wait and long for home, it shall be ours to raise
Our songs and chants and vows and prayers in that dear coun-
try's praise;
And from these Babylonian streams to lift our weary eyes,
And view the city that we love descending from the skies.
There, there, secure from every ill, in freedom we shall sing
The songs of Zion, hindered here by days of suffering,
And unto Thee, our gracious Lord, our praises shall confess
That all our sorrow hath been good, and Thou by pain canst bless.
There Sabbath day to Sabbath day sheds on a ceaseless light,
Eternal pleasure of the saints who keep that Sabbath bright;
Nor shall the chant ineffable decline, nor ever cease,
Which we with all the angels sing in that sweet realm of peace.
Translation of Dr. Samuel W. Duffield.
1-3


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34
EDMOND ABOUT
(1828–1885)
E
ARLY in the reign of Louis Napoleon, a serial story called
(Tolla,' a vivid study of social life in Rome, delighted the
readers of the Revue des Deux Mondes. When published
in book form in 1855 it drew a storm of opprobrium upon its young
author, who was accused of offering as his own creation a translation
of the Italian work (Vittoria Savorelli. ' This charge, undoubtedly
unjust, he indignantly refuted. It served at least to make his name
well known. Another book, "La Question Romaine,' a brilliant if
somewhat superficial argument against the temporal power of pope
and priests, was a philosophic employment
of the same material. Appearing in 1860,
about the epoch of the French invasion of
Austrian Italy, its tone agreed with popular
sentiment and it was favorably received.
Edmond François Valentin About had a
freakish, evasive, many-sided personality, a
nature drawn in too many directions to
achieve in any one of these the success his
talents warranted. He was born in Dreuze,
and like most French boys of literary am-
bition, soon found his way to Paris, where
EDMOND ABOUT
he studied at the Lycée Charlemagne. Here
he won the honor prize; and in 1851 was sent to Athens to study
archæology at the École Française. He loved change and out-of-
the-way experiences, and two studies resulted from this trip: "La
Grèce Contemporaine,' a book of charming philosophic description;
and the delightful story "Le Roi des Montagnes' (The King of the
Mountains). This tale of the long-limbed German student, enveloped
in the smoke from his porcelain pipe as he recounts a series of
impossible adventures, — those of himself and two English women,
captured for ransom by Hadgi Stavros, brigand king in the Grecian
mountains, —is especially characteristic of About in the humorous
atmosphere of every situation.
About wrote stories so easily and well that his early desertion of
fiction is surprising. His mocking spirit has often suggested compar-
ison with Voltaire, whom he studied and admired. He too is a skep-
tic and an idol-breaker; but his is a kindlier irony, a less incisive
philosophy. Perhaps, however, this influence led to lack of faith in
his own work, to his loss of an ideal, which Zola thinks the real



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EDMOND ABOUT
35
secret of his sudden change from novelist to journalist. Voltaire
taught him to scoff and disbelieve, to demand « à quoi bon ? » and that
took the heart out of him. He was rather fond of exposing abuses,
a habit that appears in those witty letters to the Gaulois which in
1878 obliged him to suspend that journal. His was a positive mind,
interested in political affairs, and with something always ready to
say upon them.
In 1872 he founded a radical newspaper, Le XIXme
Siècle (The Nineteenth Century), in association with another aggress-
ive spirit, that of Francisque Sarcey. For many years he proved his
ability as editor, business man, and keen polemist.
He tried drama, too, inevitable ambition of young French authors;
but after the failure of “Guillery) at the Théâtre Française and
Gaétena' at the Odéon, renounced the theatre. Indeed, his power
is in odd conceptions, in the covert laugh and humorous suggestion
of the phrasing, rather than in plot or characterization. He will
always be best known for the tales and novels in that thoroughly
French style — clear, concise, and witty — which in 1878 elected him
president of the Société des Gens de Lettres, and in 1884 won him a
seat in the Academy.
About wrote a number of novels, most of them as well known
in translation to English and American readers as to his French
audience. The bright stories originally published in the Moniteur,
afterward collected with the title 'Les Mariages de Paris,' had a con-
spicuous success, and were followed by a companion volume, Les
Mariages de Province. L'Homme à l'Oreille Cassée' (The Man
with the Broken Ear) — the story of a mummy resuscitated to a world
of new conditions after many years of apparent death — shows his
freakish delight in oddity. So does 'Le Nez du Notaire) (The
Notary's Nose), a gruesome tale of the tribulations of a handsome
society man, whose nose is struck off in a duel by a revengeful Turk.
The victim buys a bit of living skin from a poor water-carrier, and
obtains a new nose by successful grafting. But he can nevermore get
rid of the uncongenial Aquarius, who exercises occult influence over
the skin with which he has parted. When he drinks too much, the
Notary's nose is red; when he starves, it dwindles away; when he
loses the arm from which the graft was made, the important feature
drops off altogether, and the sufferer must needs buy a silver one.
About's latest novel, “Le Roman d'un Brave Homme (The Story of
an Honest Man), is in quite another vein, a charming picture of
bourgeois virtue in revolutionary days. "Madelon' and 'La Vielle
Roche' (The Old School) are also popular.
French critics have not found much to say of this non-evolutionist
of letters, who is neither pure realist nor pure romanticist, and who
has no new theory of art. Some, indeed, may have scorned him for


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36
EDMOND ABOUT
the wise taste which refuses to tread the debatable ground common
to French fiction. But the reading public has received him with less
conscious analysis, and has delighted in him. If he sees only what
any clever man may see, and is no profound psychologist, yet he
tells what he sees and what he imagines with delightful spirit and
delightful wit, and tinges the fabric of his fancy with the ever-chan-
ging colors of his own versatile personality, fanciful suggestions,
homely realism, and bright antithesis. Above all, he has the great
gift of the story-teller.
THE CAPTURE
"S"
From "The King of the Mountains)
r! ST! ”
I raised my eyes.
Two thickets of mastic-trees and arbutus
inclosed the road on the right and left. From each tuft
of trees protruded three or four musket-barrels. A voice cried
out in Greek, “Seat yourselves on the ground! ” This operation
was the more easy to me, as my legs gave way under me. But I
consoled myself by thinking that Ajax, Agamemnon, and the fiery
Achilles, if they had found themselves in the same situation, would
not have refused the seat that was offered.
The musket-barrels were leveled upon us. It seemed to me
that they stretched out immeasurably, and that their muzzles were
about to join above our heads. It was not that fear disturbed my
vision; but I had never remarked so sensibly the desperate length
of the Greek muskets! The whole arsenal soon debouched into
the road, and every barrel showed its stock and its master.
The only difference which exists between devils and brigands
is, that devils are less black than they are said to be, and brigands
more dirty than people suppose. The eight bullies, who packed
themselves in a circle around us, were so filthy in appearance that
I should have wished to give them my money with a pair of tongs.
You might guess, with a little effort, that their caps had been
red; but lye-wash itself could not have restored the original color
of their clothes. All the rocks of the kingdom had stained their
cotton shirts, and their vests preserved a sample of the different
soils on which they had reposed. Their hands, their faces, and
even their moustachios were of a reddish-gray, like the soil which
supports them. Every animal is colored according to its abode
and its habits: the foxes of Greenland are of the color of snow;


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EDMOND ABOUT
37
lions, of the desert; partridges, of the furrow; Greek brigands, of
the highway.
The chief of the little troop which had made us prisoners was
distinguished by no outward mark. Perhaps, however, his face,
his hands, and his clothes were richer in dust than those of his
comrades. He leaned toward us from the height of his tall figure,
and examined us so closely that I felt the grazing of his mous-
tachios. You would have pronounced him a tiger, who smells of
his prey before tasting it. When his curiosity was satisfied, he
said to Dimitri, «Empty your pockets! ”
Dimitri did not give him cause to repeat the order: he threw
down before him a knife, a tobacco-pouch, and three Mexican
dollars, which compose a sum of about sixteen francs.
“Is that all ? ” demanded the brigand.
« Yes, brother. ”
“You are the servant ? »
“Yes, brother. »
« Take back one dollar. You must not return to the city
without money. ”
Dimitri haggled. “You could well allow me two,” said he: "I
have two horses below; they are hired from the riding-school; I
shall have to pay for the day. ”
"You will explain to Zimmerman that we have taken your
money from you. ”
"And if he wishes to be paid, notwithstanding ?
"Answer that he is lucky enough to see his horses again. ”
“He knows very well that you do not take horses. What
would you do with them in the mountains ? ”
« Enough! What is this big raw-boned animal next you ? ”
I answered for myself: "An honest German, whose spoils will
not enrich you. "
«You speak Greek well. Empty your pockets. ”
I deposited on the road a score of francs, my tobacco, my
pipe, and my handkerchief.
“What is that? ” asked the grand inquisitor.
"A handkerchief. "
« For what purpose ? '
“To wipe my nose. ”
"Why did you tell me that you were poor? It is only milords
who wipe their noses with handkerchiefs. Take off the box which
you have behind your back. Good! Open it!


## p. 38 (#52) ##############################################

38
EDMOND ABOUT
My box contained some plants, a book, a knife, a little pack-
age of arsenic, a gourd nearly empty, and the remnants of my
breakfast, which kindled a look of covetousness in the eyes of
Mrs. Simons. I had the assurance to offer them to her before my
baggage changed masters. She accepted greedily, and began to
devour the bread and meat. To my great astonishment, this act
of gluttony scandalized our robbers, who murmured among them-
selves the word “Schismatic! ” The monk made half a dozen
signs of the cross, according to the rite of the Greek Church.
“You must have a watch," said the brigand: "put it with the
rest. »
I gave up my silver watch, a hereditary toy of the weight
of four ounces. The villains passed it from hand to hand, and
thought it very beautiful. I was in hopes that admiration, which
makes men better, would dispose them to restore me something,
and I begged their chief to let me have my tin box. He imposed
silence upon me roughly. “At least,” said I, "give me back two
crowns for my return to the city! ” He answered with a sardonic
smile, “You will not have need of them. ”
The turn of Mrs. Simons had come. Before putting her hand
in her pocket, she warned our conquerors in the language of her
fathers. The English is one of those rare idioms which one can
speak with a mouth full. « Reflect well on what you are going to
do,” said she, in a menacing tone. "I am an English woman, and
English subjects are inviolable in all the countries of the world.
What you will take from me will serve you little, and will cost
you dear. England will avenge me, and you will all be hanged,
to say the least. Now if you wish my money, you have only to
speak; but it will burn your fingers: it is English money! ”
What does she say? " asked the spokesman of the brigands.
Dimitri answered, "She says that she is English. ”
“So much the better! All the English are rich. Tell her to
do as you have done. ”
The poor lady emptied on the sand a purse, which contained
twelve sovereigns. As her watch was not in sight, and as they
made no show of searching us, she kept it. The clemency of the
conquerors left her her pocket-handkerchief.
Mary Ann threw down her watch, with a whole bunch of
charms against the evil eye. She cast before her, by a movement
full of mute grace, a shagreen bag, which she carried in her belt.
The brigand opened it with the eagerness of a custom-house


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EDMOND ABOUT
39
officer. He drew from it a little English dressing-case, a vial of
English salts, a box of pastilles of English mint, and a hundred
and some odd francs in English money.
"Now,” said the impatient beauty, you can let us go: we
have nothing more for you. ” They indicated to her, by a men-
acing gesture, that the session was not ended. The chief of the
band squatted down before our spoils, called “the good old man,”
counted the money in his presence, and delivered to him the sum
of forty-five francs. Mrs. Simons nudged me on the elbow. "You
see,” said she, “the monk and Dimitri have betrayed us: he is
dividing the spoils with them. ”
“No, madam,” replied I, immediately. “Dimitri has received
a mere pittance from that which they had stolen from him. It is
a thing which is done everywhere. On the banks of the Rhine,
when a traveler is ruined at roulette, the conductor of the game
gives him something wherewith to return home. ”
« But the monk ? ”
“He has received a tenth part of the booty in virtue of an
immemorial custom. Do not reproach him, but rather be thank-
ful to him for having wished to save us, when his convent was
interested in our capture. ”
This discussion was interrupted by the farewells of Dimitri.
They had just set him at liberty.
“Wait for me,” said I to him: “we will return together. ” He
shook his head sadly, and answered me in English, so as to be
understood by the ladies:-
“You are prisoners for some days, and you will not see Ath-
ens again before paying a ransom. I am going to inform the
milord. Have these ladies any messages to give me for him ? »
« Tell him,” cried Mrs. Simons, “to run to the embassy, to
go then to the Piræus and find the admiral, to complain at the
foreign office, to write to Lord Palmerston! They shall take us
away from here by force of arms, or by public authority, but I
do not intend that they shall disburse a penny for my liberty. ”
"As for me,” replied I, without so much passion, "I beg you
to tell my friends in what hands you have left me. If some hun-
dreds of drachms are necessary to ransom a poor devil of a nat-
uralist, they will find them without trouble. These gentlemen of
the highway cannot rate me very high. I have a mind, while
you are still here, to ask them what I am worth at the lowest
price. ”


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40
EDMOND ABOUT
It is not they
"It would be useless, my dear Mr. Hermann!
who fix the figures of your ransom. ”
“And who then ? »
« Their chief, Hadgi-Stavros. ”
HADGI-STAVROS
From "The King of the Mountains)
The
seven
HE camp of the King was a plateau, covering a surface of
or eight hundred metres. I looked in vain for the
tents of our conquerors. The brigands are not sybarites,
and they sleep under the open sky on the 30th of April. I saw
neither spoils heaped up nor treasures displayed, nor any of those
things which one expects to find at the headquarters of a band
of robbers. Hadgi-Stavros makes it his business to have the
booty sold ; every man receives his pay in money, and employs it
as he chooses. Some make investments in commerce, others take
mortgages on houses in Athens, others buy land in their villages ;
no one squanders the products of robbery. Our arrival inter-
rupted the breakfast of twenty-five or thirty men, who flocked
around us with their bread and cheese. The chief supports his
soldiers; there is distributed to them every day one ration of
bread, oil, wine, cheese, caviare, allspice, bitter olives, and meat
when their religion permits it. The epicures who wish to eat
mallows or other herbs are at liberty to gather delicacies in the
mountains.
The office of the King was as much like an office as the camp
of the robbers was like a camp. Neither tables nor chairs nor
movables of any sort were to be seen there. Hadgi-Stavros was
seated cross-legged on a square carpet in the shade of a fir-tree.
Four secretaries and two servants were grouped around him. A
boy of sixteen or eighteen was occupied incessantly in filling,
lighting, and cleaning the chibouk of his master. He carried in
his belt a tobacco-pouch, embroidered with gold and fine mother-
of-pearl, and a pair of silver pincers intended for taking up coals.
Another servant passed the day in preparing cups of coffee,
glasses of water, and sweetmeats to refresh the royal mouth. The
secretaries, seated on the bare rock, wrote on their knees, with
pens made of reeds.
Each of them had at hand a long copper
box containing reeds, penknife, and inkhorn. Some tin cylinders,


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EDMOND ABOUT
41
like those in which our soldiers roll up their discharges, served
as a depository for the archives. The paper was not of native
manufacture, and for a good reason. Every leaf bore the word
BATH in capital letters.
The King was a fine old man, marvelously well preserved,
straight, slim, supple as a spring, spruce and shining as a new
sabre. His long white moustachios hung under his chin like two
marble stalactites. The rest of his face was carefully shaved, the
skull bare even to the occiput, where a long tress of white hair
was rolled up under his hat. The expression of his features ap-
peared to me calm and thoughtful.
A pair of small, clear blue
eyes and a square chin announced an indomitable will. His face
was long, and the position of the wrinkles lengthened it still more.
All the creases of the forehead were broken in the middle, and
seemed to direct themselves toward the meeting of the eyebrows;
two wide and deep furrows descended perpendicularly to the
corners of the lips, as if the weight of the moustachios had
drawn in the muscles of the face.
I have seen a good many septuagenarians ; I have even dis-
sected one who would have reached a hundred years, if the dili-
gence of Osnabrück had not passed over his body : but I do not
remember to have observed a more green and robust old age
than that of Hadgi-Stavros. He wore the dress of Tino and of
all the islands of the Archipelago. His red cap formed a large
crease at its base around his forehead. He had a vest of black
cloth, faced with black silk, immense blue pantaloons which con-
tained more than twenty metres of cotton cloth, and great boots
of Russia leather, elastic and stout. The only rich thing in his
costume was a scarf embroidered with gold and precious stones,
which might be worth two or three thousand francs. It inclosed
in its folds an embroidered cashmere purse, a Damascus sanjar
in a silver sheath, a long pistol mounted in gold and rubies, and
the appropriate baton.
Quietly seated in the midst of his employees, Hadgi-Stavros
moved only the ends of his fingers and his lips; the lips to dic-
tate his correspondence, the fingers to count the beads in his
chaplet. It was one of those beautiful chaplets of milky amber
which do not serve to number prayers, but to amuse the solemn
idleness of the Turk.
He raised his head at our approach, guessed at a glance the
occurrence which had brought us there, and said to us, with a


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42
EDMOND ABOUT
gravity which had in it nothing ironical, “You are welcome! Be
seated. ”
«Sir, cried Mrs. Simons, "I am an English woman, and — »
He interrupted the discourse by making his tongue smack against
the teeth of his upper jaw — superb teeth, indeed! «Presently,”
said he: "I am occupied. ” He understood only Greek, and Mrs.
Simons knew only English; but the physiognomy of the King was
so speaking that the good lady comprehended easily without the
aid of an interpreter.
Selections from «The King of the Mountains) used by permission of
J. E. Tilton and Company
THE VICTIM
L*
From "The Man with the Broken Ear): by permission of Henry Holt, the
Translator
ÉON took his bunch of keys and opened the long oak box on
which he had been seated. The lid being raised, they saw
a great leaden casket which inclosed a magnificent walnut
box carefully polished on the outside, lined on the inside with
white silk, and padded.
The others brought their lamps and candles near, and the
colonel of the Twenty-third of the line appeared as if he were in
a chapel illuminated for his lying in state.
One would have said that the man was asleep. The perfect
preservation of the body attested the paternal care of the mur-
derer. It was truly a remarkable preparation, and would have
borne comparison with the finest European mummies described by
Vicq d'Azyr in 1779, and by the younger Puymaurin in 1787. The
part best preserved, as is always the case, was the face. A11 the
features had maintained a proud and manly expression. If any
old friend of the colonel had been at the opening of the third
box, he would have recognized him at first sight. Undoubtedly
the point of the nose was a little sharper, the nostrils less ex-
panded and thinner, and the bridge a little more marked, than in
the year 1813. The eyelids were thinned, the lips pinched, the
corners of the mouth drawn down, the cheek bones too promi-
nent, and the neck visibly shrunken, which exaggerated the prom-
inence of the chin and larynx. But the eyelids were closed with-
out contraction, and the sockets much less hollow than one could
have expected; the mouth was not at all distorted, like the mouth


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EDMOND ABOUT
43
of a corpse; the skin was slightly wrinkled, but had not changed
color, - it had only become a little more transparent, showing
after a fashion the color of the tendons, the fat, and the muscles,
wherever it rested directly upon them. It also had a rosy tint
which is not ordinarily seen in embalmed corpses. Dr. Martout
explained this anomaly by saying that if the colonel had actually
been dried alive, the globules of the blood were not decomposed,
but simply collected in the capillary vessels of the skin and sub-
jacent tissues, where they still preserved their proper color, and
could be seen more easily than otherwise on account of the semi-
transparency of the skin.
The uniform had become much too large, as may be readily
understood, though it did not seem at a casual glance that the
members had become deformed. The hands were dry and angu-
lar, but the nails, although a little bent inward toward the root,
had preserved all their freshness. The only very noticeable
change was the excessive depression of the abdominal walls, which
seemed crowded downward to the posterior side; at the right, a
slight elevation indicated the place of the liver. A tap of the
finger on the various parts of the body produced a sound like
that from dry leather. While Léon was pointing out these details
to his audience and doing the honors of his mummy, he awk-
wardly broke off the lower part of the right ear, and a little
piece of the colonel remained in his hand. This trifling accident
might have passed unnoticed had not Clémentine, who followed
with visible emotion all the movements of her lover, dropped her
candle and uttered a cry of affright. All gathered around her.
Léon took her in his arms and carried her to a chair. M. Re-
nault ran after salts. She was as pale as death, and seemed on
the point of fainting. She soon recovered, however, and reas-
sured them all by a charming smile.
"Pardon me,” she said, for such a ridiculous exhibition of
terror; but what Monsieur Léon was saying to us - and then -
that figure which seemed sleeping - it appeared to me that the
poor man was going to open his mouth and cry out, when he
was injured. "
Léon hastened to close the walnut box, while M. Martout
picked up the piece of ear and put it in his pocket. But Clé.
mentine, while continuing to smile and make apologies, was
overcome by a fresh access of emotion and melted into tears.
The engineer threw himself at her feet, poured forth excuses


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EDMOND ABOUT
44
»
and tender phrases, and did all he could to console her inexpli-
cable grief.
Clémentine dried her eyes, looked prettier than ever, and
sighed fit to break her heart, without knowing why.
« Beast that I am! ” muttered Léon, tearing his hair. « On the
day when I see her again after three years' absence, I can think
of nothing more soul-inspiring than showing her mummies! He
launched a kick at the triple coffin of the colonel, saying, “I wish
the devil had the confounded colonel ! »
“No! ” cried Clémentine, with redoubled energy and emotion.
“Do not curse him, Monsieur Léon! He has suffered so much!
Ah! poor, poor, unfortunate man! »
Mlle. Sambucco felt a little ashamed. She made excuses for
her niece, and declared that never, since her tenderest childhood,
had she manifested such extreme sensitiveness.
Clémen-
tine was no sensitive plant. She was not even a romantic school-
girl. Her youth had not been nourished by Anne Radcliffe, she
did not trouble herself about ghosts, and she would go through the
house very tranquilly at ten o'clock at night without a candle.
When her mother died, some months before Léon's departure, she
did not wish to have any one share with her the sad satisfaction
of watching and praying in the death chamber.
« This will teach us,” said the aunt, “what staying up after
ten o'clock does. What! it is midnight, within a quarter of an
hour! Come, my child; you will recover fast enough after you
get to bed. ”
Clémentine arose submissively; but at the moment of leaving
the laboratory she retraced her steps, and with a caprice more
inexplicable than her grief, she absolutely demanded to see the
mummy of the colonel again. Her aunt scolded in vain; in spite
of the remarks of Mlle. Sambucco and all the others present, she
reopened the walnut box, knelt down beside the mummy, and
kissed it on the forehead.
« Poor man! ” said she, rising. “How cold he is! Monsieur
Léon, promise me that if he is dead you will have him laid in
consecrated ground!
"As you please, mademoiselle. I intended to send him to the
anthropological museum, with my father's permission; but you
know that we can refuse you nothing. ”
Selections from «The Man with the Broken Ear) used by permission of
Henry Holt and Company
>>
(
»


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EDMOND ABOUT
45
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY
From «The Man with the Broken Ear): by permission of Henry Holt, the
Translator
F
»
ORTHWITH the colonel marched and opened the windows with
a precipitation which upset the gazers among the crowd.
“People,” said he, “I have knocked down a hundred beggarly
pandours, who respect neither sex nor infirmity. For the benefit
of those who are not satisfied, I will state that I call myself
Colonel Fougas of the Twenty-third. And Vive l'Empéreur ! ”
A confused mixture of plaudits, cries, laughs, and jeers an-
swered this unprecedented allocution. Léon Renault hastened out
to make apologies to all to whom they were due. He invited a
few friends to dine the same evening with the terrible colonel,
and of course he did not forget to send a special messenger to
Clémentine. Fougas, after speaking to the people, returned to his
hosts, swinging himself along with a swaggering air, set himself
astride a chair, took hold of the ends of his mustache, and said:
“Well! Come, let's talk this over. I've been sick, then ? ”
“Very sick. ”
«That's incredible! I feel entirely well; I'm hungry; and more-
over, while waiting for dinner I'll try a glass of your schnick. ”
Mme. Renault went out, gave an order, and returned in an
instant.
“But tell me, then, where I am ? ” resumed the colonel. By
these paraphernalia of work, I recognize a disciple of Urania; pos-
sibly a friend of Monge and Berthollet. But the cordial friendli-
ness impressed on your countenances proves to me that you are
not natives of this land of sauerkraut. Yes, I believe it from the
beatings of my heart. Friends, we have the same fatherland.
The kindness of your reception, even were there no other indica-
tions, would have satisfied me that you are French. What acci-
dents have brought you so far from our native soil ? Children of
my country, what tempest has thrown you upon this inhospitable
shore ? "
"My dear colonel,” replied M. Nibor, if you want to become
very wise, you will not ask so many questions at once. Allow us
the pleasure of instructing you quietly and in order, for you have
a great many things to learn. ”
The colonel flushed with anger, and answered sharply:-
"At all events, you are not the man to teach them to me, my
little gentleman! ”
>


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46
EDMOND ABOUT
A drop of blood which fell on his hand changed the current of
his thoughts.
«Hold on! ” said he: "am I bleeding ? ”
« That will amount to nothing: circulation is re-established,
and — and your broken ear— »
He quickly carried his hand to his ear, and said: –
It's certainly so. But devil take me if I recollect this acci-
dent! "
"I'll make you a little dressing, and in a couple of days there
will be no trace of it left. »
“Don't give yourself the trouble, my dear Hippocrates: a pinch
of powder is a sovereign cure! ”
M. Nibor set to work to dress the ear in a little less military
fashion. During his operations Léon re-entered.
«Ah! ah ! ” said he to the doctor: "you are repairing the harm
I did. ”
«Thunderation ! » cried Fougas, escaping from the hands of
M. Nibor SO as to seize Léon by the collar, was it you, you
rascal, that hurt my ear? ”
Léon was very good-natured, but his patience failed him. He
pushed his man roughly aside.
“Yes, sir: it was I who tore your ear, in pulling it; and if
that little misfortune had not happened to me, it is certain that
you would have been to-day six feet under ground. It is I who
saved your life, after buying you with my money when you were
not valued at more than twenty-five louis. It is I who have
passed three days and two nights in cramming charcoal under
It is my father who gave you the clothes you now
have on.
You are in our house. Drink the little glass of brandy
Gothon just brought you; but for God's sake give up the habit
of calling me rascal, of calling my mother Good Mother,' and
of Alinging our friends into the street and calling them beggarly
pandours! ”
The colonel, all dumbfounded, held out his hand to Léon, M.
Renault, and the doctor, gallantly kissed the hand of Mme.
Renault, swallowed at a gulp a claret glass filled to the brim with
brandy, and said, in a subdued voice:-
«Most excellent friends, forget the vagaries of an impulsive
but generous soul. To subdue my passions shall hereafter be my
law. After conquering all the nations in the universe, it is well
to conquer one's self. ”
your boiler.


## p. 47 (#61) ##############################################

EDMOND ABOUT
47
This said, he submitted his ear to M. Nibor, who finished
dressing it.
"But,” said he, summoning up his recollections, they did not
shoot me, then ? »
"No. "
“And I wasn't frozen to death in the tower ? ”
"Not quite. ”
“Why has my uniform been taken off? I see! I am a pris-
oner! ”
“You are free. ”
«Free! Vive l'Empereur! But then there's not a moment to
lose! How many leagues is it to Dantzic ? »
“It's very far. ”
“What do you call this chicken-coop of a town? ”
« Fontainebleau. ”
“ Fontainebleau! In France ? ”
« Préfecture of Seine-et-Marne. We are going to introduce
to you the sub-préfect, whom you just pitched into the street. ”
“What the devil are your sub-préfects to me? I have a
message from the Emperor to General Rapp, and I must start
this very day for Dantzic. God knows whether I'll be there in
time! ”
"My poor colonel, you will arrive too late. Dantzic is given
up. ”
« That's impossible! Since when ? ”
«About forty-six years ago. ”
« Thunder! I did not understand that you were — mocking
me!
M. Nibor placed in his hand a calendar, and said, “See for
yourself! It is now the 17th of August, 1859; you went to sleep
in the tower of Liebenfeld on the uth of November, 1813: there
have been, then, forty-six years, within three months, during
which the world has moved on without you. ”
« Twenty-four and forty-six: but then I would be seventy years
old, according to your statement! ”
«Your vitality clearly shows that you are still twenty-four. ”
He shrugged his shoulders, tore up the calendar, and said,
beating the floor with his foot, «Your almanac is a humbug! ”
M. Renault ran to his library, took up half a dozen books at
haphazard, and made him read, at the foot of the title-pages, the
dates 1826, 1833, 1847, and 1858.


## p. 48 (#62) ##############################################

48
EDMOND ABOUT
"Pardon me! ” said Fougas, burying his head in his hands.
“What has happened to me is so new! I do not think that
another human being was ever subjected to such a trial. I am
seventy years old ! »
Good Mme. Renault went and got a looking-glass from the
bath-room and gave it to him, saying:-
« Look! »
He took the glass in both hands, and was silently occupied in
resuming acquaintance with himself, when a hand-organ came into
the court and began playing Partant pour la Syrie. '
Fougas threw the mirror to the ground, and cried out:-
"What is that you are telling me? I hear the little song of
Queen Hortense !
M. Renault patiently explained to him, while picking up the
pieces of the mirror, that the pretty little song of Queen Hor-
tense had become a national air, and even an official one, since
the regimental bands had substituted that gentle melody for the
fierce Marseillaise; and that our soldiers, strange to say, had
not fought any the worse for it. But the colonel had already
opened the window, and was crying out to the Savoyard with the
organ:-
«Eh! Friend!