"Then you believe, cousin, that your guns make so much noise? My father's
carbine has the advantage of them."

"The devil take you, you cursed little scapegrace! I am certain that you
have seen Gianetto. Perhaps, even, you have hidden him. Come, comrades, go
into the house and see if our man is there. He could only go on one foot,
and the knave has too much good sense to try to reach the mâquis limping
like that. Moreover, the bloody tracks stop here."

"And what will papa say?" asked Fortunato with a sneer; "what will he say
if he knows that his house has been entered while he was away?"

"You rascal!" said the Adjutant, taking him by the ear, "do you know that
it only remains for me to make you change your tone? Perhaps you will
speak differently after I have given you twenty blows with the flat of my
sword."

Fortunato continued to sneer.

"My father is Mateo Falcone," said he with emphasis.

"You little scamp, you know very well that I can carry you off to Corte or
to Bastia. I will make you lie in a dungeon, on straw, with your feet in
shackles, and I will have you guillotined if you don't tell me where
Gianetto is."

The child burst out laughing at this ridiculous menace. He repeated:

"My father is Mateo Falcone."