does not dare to use its claws; from time to time it turns its eyes away
so as not to be tempted, licking its jaws all the while, and has the
appearance of saying to its master, "How cruel your joke is!"

However, the Adjutant seemed in earnest in offering his watch. Fortunato
did not reach out his hand for it, but said with a bitter smile:

"Why do you make fun of me?"

"Good God! I am not making fun of you. Only tell me where Gianetto is and
the watch is yours."

Fortunato smiled incredulously, and fixing his black eyes on those of the
Adjutant tried to read there the faith he ought to have had in his words.

"May I lose my epaulettes," cried the Adjutant, "if I do not give you the
watch on this condition. These comrades are witnesses; I can not deny it."

While speaking he gradually held the watch nearer till it almost touched
the child's pale face, which plainly showed the struggle that was going on
in his soul between covetousness and respect for hospitality. His breast
swelled with emotion; he seemed about to suffocate. Meanwhile the watch
was slowly swaying and turning, sometimes brushing against his cheek.
Finally, his right hand was gradually stretched toward it; the ends of his
fingers touched it; then its whole weight was in his hand, the Adjutant
still keeping hold of the chain. The face was light blue; the cases newly
burnished. In the sunlight it seemed to be all on fire. The temptation was
too great. Fortunato raised his left hand and pointed over his shoulder
with his thumb at the hay against which he was reclining. The Adjutant
understood him at once. He dropped the end of the chain and Fortunato felt