While some of the soldiers were occupied in making a kind of stretcher out
of some chestnut boughs and the rest were dressing Gianetto's wound, Mateo
Falcone and his wife suddenly appeared at a turn in the path that led to
the mâquis. The woman was staggering under the weight of an enormous sack
of chestnuts, while her husband was sauntering along, carrying one gun in
his hands, while another was slung across his shoulders, for it is
unworthy of a man to carry other burdens than his arms.

At the sight of the soldiers Mateo's first thought was that they had come
to arrest him. But why this thought? Had he then some quarrels with
justice? No. He enjoyed a good reputation. He was said to have a
particularly good name, but he was a Corsican and a highlander, and there
are few Corsican highlanders who, in scrutinizing their memory, can not
find some peccadillo, such as a gun-shot, dagger-thrust, or similar
trifles. Mateo more than others had a clear conscience; for more than ten
years he had not pointed his carbine at a man, but he was always prudent,
and put himself into a position to make a good defense if necessary.
"Wife," said he to Giuseppa, "put down the sack and hold yourself ready."

She obeyed at once. He gave her the gun that was slung across his
shoulders, which would have bothered him, and, cocking the one he held in
his hands, advanced slowly towards the house, walking among the trees that
bordered the road, ready at the least hostile demonstration, to hide
behind the largest, whence he could fire from under cover. His wife
followed closely behind, holding his reserve weapon and his cartridge-box.
The duty of a good housekeeper, in case of a fight, is to load her
husband's carbines.

On the other side the Adjutant was greatly troubled to see Mateo advance