"Adjutant," said one of the soldiers in a low voice, "let us have no
quarrels with Mateo."

Gamba appeared evidently embarrassed. He spoke in an undertone with the
soldiers who had already visited the house. This was not a very long
operation, for the cabin of a Corsican consists only of a single square
room, furnished with a table, some benches, chests, housekeeping utensils
and those of the chase. In the meantime, little Fortunato petted his cat
and seemed to take a wicked enjoyment in the confusion of the soldiers and
of his cousin.

One of the men approached the pile of hay. He saw the cat, and gave the
pile a careless thrust with his bayonet, shrugging his shoulders as if he
felt that his precaution was ridiculous. Nothing moved; the boy's face
betrayed not the slightest emotion.

The Adjutant and his troop were cursing their luck. Already they were
looking in the direction of the plain, as if disposed to return by the way
they had come, when their chief, convinced that menaces would produce no
impression on Falcone's son, determined to make a last effort, and try the
effect of caresses and presents.

"My little cousin," said he, "you are a very wide-awake little fellow. You
will get along. But you are playing a naughty game with me; and if I
wasn't afraid of making trouble for my cousin, Mateo, the devil take me!
but I would carry you off with me."

"Bah!"

"But when my cousin comes back I shall tell him about this, and he will