THE 1 IBRARY 
 
 "HE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CAL [FORNIA
 
 JONQUILLE
 
 E Y THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 With Frontispiece. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ENG-ELBERG-, AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 Crown 8vo. 2s. 6J. 
 GRISONS INCIDENTS IN OLDEN TIMES 
 
 LONDON: PEEG1VAL AND CO.
 
 JONQUILLE 
 
 OR 
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 TRANSLATED FKOM 
 THE FRENCH OF T. COMBE 
 
 BEATRIX L. TOLLEMACHE 
 
 (HON. MRS. LIONEL TOLLEMACHE) 
 
 iLontion 
 
 I'KRCIVAL AXl) CO. 
 1891
 
 PREFATORY LINES BY THE TRANSLATOR 
 
 YES, all the world's a cage, 
 And we the birds. Some spread their wings 
 For lofty flight 'tis they who rage 
 Against the bars ; another sings, 
 
 Contented with his lot, 
 
 Ne'er knew, or has forgot, 
 The leafy woods and buoyant air ; 
 His gilded cage is spacious, fair ; 
 He never beats against the wires, 
 He has no wilful wild desires.- 
 The world's a cage he has not found 
 Too narrow for his wings are bound. 
 
 B. L. T.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MANUEL had the great misfortune to be ap- 
 prenticed to a trade which he thoroughly 
 disliked. lie lived in one of those Swiss 
 villages in the Jura which have grown pros- 
 perous through watchmaking, and his father 
 was determined that his boy should follow his 
 own trade of watchmaker. This calling was 
 handed down from father to son like a heritage, 
 and each generation was expected to follow 
 in the same groove. There mio-ht seem to be 
 
 o O 
 
 some advantages in this plan ; certain special 
 aptitudes and manual skill become hereditary, 
 but all individuality is checked, any original 
 powers are liable to be crushed by this routine 
 which grinds down particular tastes, and many 
 lives are thus thwarted and stunted. 
 
 Manuel's impetuous nature rebelled against 
 B
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 the restraints put upon him ; he was a lively boy 
 with vigorous muscles, and he could not submit 
 calmly to a sedentary life. He was fourteen 
 when, school -days being over, his father set him 
 down to the old oak bench, put a file into 
 his hand and bade him make a rough piece 
 of brass into a wheel. He set to work the 
 first day with an ardour which savoured of 
 impatience, raising his head from time to time 
 to look up to the mountain fringed with fir- 
 trees which seemed to signal to him above 
 the roofs, or to listen to the joyous cries of 
 the urchins playing at marbles in the street. 
 His father, sitting beside him at work, kept 
 an eye on the lad and was not slow to find 
 fault. Manuel, who had hitherto been free to 
 come and go as he liked, was annoyed by 
 being watched in this way. He fidgeted 
 under the bench with his feet and kicked 
 against the wall, while he hacked away at 
 random with the file which, his father com- 
 plained, he held like a spoon. 
 
 ' You will never be able to use a file,' he said 
 to Manuel on the evening of the first day, by 
 way of encouragement; 'your thumb is too 
 short 'tis hooked like a German's ; a good
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 watchmaker should have a long thumb bent 
 outwards like mine, do you see ? But you take 
 after your mother who was a peasant's daughter.' 
 
 Manuel thought to himself, ' As I shall never 
 be able to file, what is the use of trying to learn?' 
 
 A few days later, while he was boring a hole, 
 he drove the drill into his hand. ' The trade 
 is getting into you,' said his father ; but his 
 hand swelled up and was useless for a day 
 or two, and the only result was that he got 
 a holiday, which he spent in scrambling about 
 the woods, coining back from them with a 
 greater longing than before for an open - air 
 life. However, at the end of three weeks, he 
 had learnt to file pretty well. ' You take your 
 time about it,' said his father ; ' at this rate 
 you will be ten years before you're a work- 
 man.' 
 
 These ill - omened predictions, which were 
 dinned into Manners ears from morning to 
 night, made no impression on him. He had 
 not the least wish to i>vt on ; he felt no shame 
 
 o * 
 
 for his awkwardness ; he was bored with his 
 work, and that was all. He did not see the 
 use of filing, and drilling and twirling a brass 
 wheel about ; he hated it, and at last one day
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 threw it out of the window ; but all he gained 
 by it was that his father pulled his ears and 
 made him begin another. 
 
 ' What is the use of this stupid work ? ' he ex- 
 claimed one day, stamping his foot angrily. 
 
 ' That you may earn your living some day, 
 you rascal/ answered his father. 
 
 To earn his living ! He could have earned it 
 more pleasantly as a porter, or mender of roads. 
 Some days later he used his graver so awkwardly 
 that he sent a chip of brass into his eye ; it got 
 under the eyelid, which became inflamed, and he 
 had at last to have the chip taken out by the 
 doctor. 
 
 ' It's the trade getting in,' said his father, 
 and Manuel took a greater dislike than ever to 
 a trade which got in by such disagreeable ways. 
 Not that he was a milksop ; he could have en- 
 dured a hundred little annoyances in a calling 
 which would have given him what he wanted 
 freedom and the exercise of his limbs in the 
 open air. The delicate tools, the minuteness of 
 the work, worried him intensely; he broke, in one 
 week, three gravers and six drills, and received 
 in exchange, which was not surprising, a similar 
 number of cuffs from his father.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' You're only fit to use pincers and nails/ said 
 his father irritably. 
 
 ' For Heaven's sake give me some, and make 
 a blacksmith of me ! ' 
 
 'A blacksmith indeed, when you belong to 
 Neuchatel and to a family who have been 
 watchmakers for generations ! You can't give 
 up your hereditary vocation.' 
 
 ' My vocation is to be in the open air,' 
 murmured Manuel, looking enviously at the 
 sparrows flying about the roofs. 
 
 But at last he got through his apprenticeship 
 somehow. Only, instead of passing through a 
 complete course of watchmaking, he simply 
 learnt the branch of putting together and re- 
 pairing under his father's superintendence. At 
 the end of a year he could earn thirty sous a 
 day ; a cleverer apprentice would have reached 
 this result in six months. Out of this small 
 sum there was breakage to be deducted, for 
 Manuel, always rough and impatient, often 
 broke the hand of a watch, or a stone, or 
 spoilt a face which was worth almost as much 
 as his day's wages. He had come to look 
 upon his bench and his tools as odious tyrants, 
 as personal enemies, always ready to play him
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 a trick, to rob him of his earnings, and to 
 snatch away his freedom and joy in life. 
 Every morning when he woke his first thought 
 was of his odious task, and he set to work 
 in a discontented mood, looking every minute 
 at the clock, and jumping up impatiently, so as 
 to disturb the whole array of tiny pieces of metal 
 arranged before him on a sheet of white paper. 
 
 ' What's the matter with you ? ' grumbled 
 his father. 
 
 ' I have got pins and needles in my arms and 
 legs and everywhere/ 
 
 He got up and took a turn round the room, 
 and then sat down again with a half-sorrowful, 
 half-angry air. 
 
 Manuel had no brothers and sisters, his 
 mother was dead, and he was too proud to 
 complain to his companions ; he was thus 
 thrown back upon himself and his own gloomy 
 thoughts, and shunned the society of his com- 
 rades. Sundays were his only free and happy 
 days. He would start at dawn, choosing by 
 preference the most rugged paths, and enjoying 
 the struggle with the difficulties on his way ; 
 scrambling up and down the rocks and ravines 
 and stony clefts, and expending all the ardour
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 of his undisciplined powers in conquering these 
 obstacles. Any one who had met him on 
 these wild expeditions would not have recog- 
 nised him. He laughed and talked to him- 
 self, shouted madly as he leapt over walls, 
 or climbed to the tops of fir-trees, or amused 
 himself with frightening the buzzards by imi- 
 tating the rallying cry of the crows when 
 they meet to exterminate their hereditary 
 enemies. ' He would climb up rocks in order 
 to roll down stones on an imaginary army ; 
 he whistled and sang, without stopping to 
 take breath, in fact gave himself up to a 
 regular jollification of noise and exercise. 
 
 When service time came he went down to 
 the village, and after a hasty dinner went off 
 again. His father, who was no longer young, 
 let the lad amuse himself as he liked. 
 
 ' He hasn't a sou in his pocket/ he thought 
 to himself, ' so he cannot drink or smoke, and 
 as for bad company he must come across it 
 sooner or later, and he may as well stand 
 the test early.' lie thought that he had done 
 his part duly as a parent in teaching his son 
 an honest trade by which he might earn his own 
 livincr.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 One Sunday evening Manuel, who generally 
 came home quite tired out and glad to escape 
 to bed quickly, lingered over his supper in an 
 unusual way, twisting his spoon about in his 
 fingers in an undecided manner. His father 
 guessed that he had something to say, but was 
 silent and waited to see what would happen. 
 
 At last Manuel observed abruptly, ' I met 
 a party of tinkers to-day who welcomed me 
 kindly. They are willing to take me as an 
 apprentice if you will allow it. I should go 
 the round of France with them. I wasn't 
 made to live shut up in a box.' 
 
 As he said this he threw open his waistcoat 
 as if to breathe more freely in the small room. 
 
 ' Let me go/ he added ; ' I should always 
 be a bad watchmaker ; I want a trade where I 
 can move about and use my arms and legs.' 
 
 ' Oh, indeed, so you intend to be a tinker,' 
 said his father ironically. ' Why not a highway 
 robber at once ? One leads to the other. When 
 I am gone you can do what you like, but while 
 I am alive I won't have you put in the lock-up 
 as a vagabond. You shall work as all the honest 
 folk of your family have done before you. When 
 you see a girl you like, and begin to think of
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 marrying, you won't be so anxious to wander 
 about.' 
 
 Manuel did not press the matter, but be- 
 gan to make plans how he could run away. 
 Not long after, luckily or unluckily, his father 
 hurt his right wrist, and was unable to work 
 for many weeks. He never quite recovered the 
 lightness of touch for which he had been famous, 
 and Manuel's earnings, though very small, had 
 to keep the house going. 
 
 Years went by, and Manuel worked like a 
 slave to make the two ends meet, and did not 
 always succeed, for he was only a second-rate 
 workman, and hated his tools as instruments of 
 daily torture as much as in the early days of his 
 apprenticeship. He was slow and awkward over 
 his work, and often spoilt his materials, and his 
 father, now an old man, with feeble sight and 
 trembling fingers, was obliged to give up to 
 younger men the finishing off of the delicate 
 machinery which he had formerly prided himself 
 on makiiio-. 
 
 O 
 
 One day Manuel, weary of the daily rou- 
 tine, had made a fresh attempt to get away 
 from it. 
 
 ' There are other trades besides watchmaking.
 
 io THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 and other places in the world besides Switzer- 
 land,' he said to his father. ' Let us go to 
 America ; I am sure I should get on there with 
 a pair of strong arms arid a stout heart.' 
 
 ' And would you leave me behind like a piece 
 of useless rubbish ? ' asked his father bitterly. 
 
 ' You should come too, father. I would work 
 as a sailor to pay for both our passages.' 
 
 1 You're just a gipsy fellow, my lad ; but a 
 rolling stone gathers no moss.' 
 
 ' Well, you haven't gathered much moss, and 
 you haven't enjoyed the rolling either.' 
 
 ' You call that enjoyment ? Well, every one 
 to his taste ; but I am too old to cross the w T ater. 
 Go, if you like, and leave me here all alone. 
 The parish at least will bury me.' 
 
 After this Manuel stayed at home because he 
 thought it was his duty, but he often felt dis- 
 couraged and unfit for work. Must it always be 
 his fate, he asked himself, to spend his youth, 
 his strength, and his energy on this thankless 
 enervating task, which was better fitted for 
 slighter hands than his ? Must he always pace 
 in the same treadmill, in the same monotonous 
 circle, with its bounded horizon ? Must he eat 
 this daily bread which had no savour in it, and
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER n 
 
 live always this dull, commonplace life ? Was 
 this to be always his fate ? 
 
 Yet Manuel tried to resign himself to it, and 
 sometimes he thought that he was getting recon- 
 ciled to this life, that the struggle was over ; but 
 it was only the calm which comes from weariness. 
 The next day the storm was raging in him more 
 violently than before. 
 
 When Manuel was twenty-two his father died. 
 He was free at last, but he felt his loneliness 
 bitterly. His father, though harsh and selfish 
 and never affectionate, had yet been his father, 
 and their interests and cares had been the same 
 for many years. Now Manuel had only himself 
 to think of, and need account to no one for his 
 conduct. His chain was broken, but he had no 
 plans or interests, and floated like a waif on a 
 stream, caring little on which shore it will be 
 stranded. Itis little room was silent, and he 
 missed his father's voice scolding and grumbling 
 at him. Instead of working at home as before, 
 he decided to go to a factory which employed all 
 kinds of workmen -good, bad, and indifferent. 
 His wages were low, as his skill was small, but 
 the work was ready to his hand each day. He 
 had only just to do the task set before him, and,
 
 12 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 when Saturday came, to pocket his pay. He was 
 gradually and unconsciously becoming a machine. 
 His grief at his father's death had for the time 
 calmed down his rebellious thoughts. He said 
 to himself: ' I did my duty at least to the poor 
 old man till the end. It soothed his last days, 
 and I need feel no remorse.' He even bent his 
 stubborn nature to obey the factory rules, and 
 was never fined for breaking them nor for un- 
 punctuality. Every morning he went up the 
 stairs when the shrill call-whistle was blown. 
 He spoke to no one, and took the worst- paid 
 work with perfect indifference. 
 
 For the first few months all went smoothly, 
 and Manuel thought that a change had come 
 over him at last. It was winter, and bondage is 
 more easily borne at that season of the year. 
 The higher forests were inaccessible on account 
 
 o 
 
 of the deep snow, and Manuel had to keep to the 
 beaten tracks on his Sunday excursions. 
 
 On week-days, while shut up in the large 
 overheated room, he worked mechanically at the 
 task set before him, but his thoughts wandered 
 far away. He heard the faint sound of files, the 
 creaking of the lathes, the whispered chat of the 
 workmen, who were forbidden to talk aloud.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 13 
 
 The noisy throbbings of the steam-engines fell 
 on his dulled ear, and it seemed to him that he 
 was part of the machinery, and these were the 
 beatings of his own heart. All individual life 
 and consciousness seemed to be gone. A strange 
 torpor took possession of his mind. His com- 
 panions seemed to him like men walking in their 
 sleep ; and when he observed that this indiffer- 
 ence to everything was growing upon him he 
 only said to himself : ' I am settling down ; I 
 am learning to be sensible/ 
 
 The advent of spring woke him up at last. 
 One morning, as he drew aside his curtains, he 
 saw the first swallow flying past his window. 
 He followed it with his eyes. The quick, joyous 
 movement of its wings made his heart leap. 
 The swallow drew near, wheeling round ; then, 
 uttering a. low call, went up in swift flight into 
 the golden air of dawn, rejoicing in light and 
 liberty. Manuel stood a long time with his face 
 against the window pane, trying to master the 
 feelings which surged in him. When he left the 
 house and was on his way to the factory he saw 
 that the lilacs were budding. Never had the 
 day seemed so long before. The close air of 
 the workshop oppressed him, the hu/xino 1 of the 
 
 JL I X O
 
 14 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 lathes worried him. With his head bent down 
 and his hands idly resting, he fancied himself in 
 the forest. He heard the rustling of spring 
 breezes, and felt round his hot head the soft 
 breath of wakening spring. The foreman's voice 
 woke him up two or three times from his dreams : 
 'Come, you are idling ; are you asleep ? ' 
 
 The next day Manuel, instead of going to the 
 factory, spent his time in wandering about the 
 woods. His eager nature was again fully roused. 
 He wanted to drink long draughts of fresh air, 
 to stretch his cramped-up limbs, to tire himself 
 out with wholesome exertion. He met some 
 woodmen who were beginning to raise the great 
 
 which had been hidden under the snow till 
 now. He helped to send them gliding swiftly 
 down the steep slide, and then set to work with 
 mattock and axe to dig up an immense stump. 
 He had the pleasure at last of seeing it with its 
 roots up in the air. 
 
 ' You have a famous pair of strong arms for a 
 watchmaker,' said one of the woodmen. 
 
 ' Ah, yes ! I am too strong for such a trade ; 
 I break everything,' answered Manuel with an 
 impatient gesture. 
 
 He went home happier than he had been for
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 15 
 
 a long time, but the next day the close air of the 
 factory seemed unbearable to him, and he could 
 not imagine how he could ever have breathed in 
 it. Had he indeed sat in the same place for five 
 months, employed in filing little pieces of metal 
 in obedience to the orders of the foreman ? Had 
 he voluntarily shut himself up in this cage, full 
 of disagreeable sounds and smells, when the forest 
 and freedom were ready to welcome him with 
 open arms ? Was it indeed he, Manuel Vincent, 
 who had worked under orders, and who had 
 submitted to go out and in, to speak or to be 
 silent, according to rules and at the call of a 
 whistle ? No ; he had been asleep, but now he 
 was himself again, full of energy and of plans. 
 Where should he go ? Eight away, wherever it 
 might be. 
 
 He would have made an excellent colonist, 
 and would have been in his element in a new 
 country, for all he asked to have was plenty of 
 fresh air and elbow room. He preferred solitude 
 to society ; lie was ready to give up every com- 
 fort, and had a proud pleasure in the exercise of 
 his strength and agility which compensated him 
 for the loss of all other delights. His ol 1 idea 
 of emigrating came back to him, but his father's 
 
 O O '
 
 1 6 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 illness had used up all his savings and he had 
 not a sou left. How could he pay his journey 
 to Havre ? He must work a few months longer 
 in the factory and save up a small sum. Besides, 
 summer had come, and the Sunday excursions 
 would make up to him for his self-imposed 
 slavery and render it easier to bear. 
 
 With this aim before him, Manuel felt all his 
 old energy aroused ; he almost got to like his 
 work, and laboured with all the strange ardour 
 of his character, showing such zeal that he re- 
 ceived a small but unexpected addition to his 
 wages. He was soon able to put by fifty francs, 
 which he hid in a box in a far corner of his 
 chest, and every week several five franc pieces 
 were added to his store. Manuel handled them 
 with a miser's delight ; this little treasure was 
 to ransom him from slavery, and give him wings 
 to escape to unknown lands. 
 
 In order to live more economically Manuel 
 sacrificed his solitude, and took as lodger, to 
 share his room, a young man who worked near 
 him at the factory. This youth was a native of 
 
 / / 
 
 a small French village on the frontier, and had 
 come to Switzerland to <jet better wa^res. His 
 
 O O 
 
 name was Constant Loison. He was phlegmatic,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 17 
 
 industrious, eager to get money, and a very skil- 
 ful workman, with a good deal of intelligence, so 
 that his masters had noticed him, and promised 
 to make him a foreman as soon as there was a 
 vacancy in the staff. 
 
 Manuel was attracted to him by the very 
 contrast of their characters. His comrade's 
 rather prosaic and commonplace nature was a 
 counterbalance to his own enthusiastic ideas. 
 He liked to make him talk, and this w T as not 
 difficult to do. Constant Loison was very pleased 
 to discuss other people's affairs, but less ready to 
 talk of his own. One day, however, being in a 
 confidential mood, while they were leaning out 
 of the window smoking; their evening- cigars, he 
 
 O O O ' 
 
 confided to Manuel his love affairs. He first 
 spoke vaguely of his future plans, then all at 
 once confessed frankly that he had lost his heart 
 to a young girl on the frontier ; she was French 
 like himself, very pretty and very quick-witted, 
 and a Catholic, which would make it easier to 
 get the necessary marriage license. 
 
 ' I have not made much way with her yet,' 
 he added ; ' she laughs at me when I go to see 
 her ; she is capricious, and may change her mind 
 suddenly some day. Her mother is well-to-do, 
 
 c
 
 1 8 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 and will give her a good outfit, and perhaps a 
 sum of money to begin housekeeping.' 
 
 When Manuel asked the young lady's name and 
 where she lived, Constant seemed to regret hav- 
 ing told so much, and immediately changed the 
 subject. Manuel soon forgot what his comrade 
 had confided to him till circumstances recalled it. 
 
 Some weeks later there was an important 
 election, and the candidate, supported by the 
 head of the factory, won the victory. All the 
 workmen took a holiday to celebrate the occa- 
 sion, and the workshops were deserted. Manuel, 
 delighted to get away, started early in the 
 morning on the road to Brenets, and soon found 
 himself at the entrance of the gorge where the 
 river Doubs runs. Heated by his rapid walk, 
 he went into a public-house by the roadside and 
 asked for a glass of beer. 
 
 Before sitting down he took a glance round 
 the room, which was dimly lighted by a small 
 window with dusty and dirty panes. 
 
 ' I declare it is he ! ' he exclaimed, letting his 
 fist fall on the table. 
 
 Constant Loison, who was sitting at the 
 farther end of the room, got up Avith a sheepish 
 air and went to Manuel.
 
 ' You remember,' he whispered, taking him 
 aside, ' the girl I spoke to you about the other 
 day. I have come to see her; it was just a 
 good opportunity for a visit.' 
 
 'Does she live here?' asked Manuel, sur- 
 prised. 
 
 ' No, not exactly ; I was on the way to her 
 when I met some well some friends. One 
 must do the civil sometimes, and we turned in 
 here, and I am treating them to drink.' 
 
 ' Your friends look an odd lot,' said Manuel 
 in his offhand way. 
 
 At the end of the room three or four strongly- 
 built lads with pipes in their mouths were sitting 
 round a table drinking. They wore the blue 
 linen blouse with pearl buttons, the loose bright- 
 coloured necktie, and the soft felt hat of the 
 men of Franche Conite. They were bold-looking 
 fellows, with their curled-up moustaches and free- 
 and-easy style of dress, and their manners were 
 a curious contrast to the timid, cautious be- 
 haviour of Constant Loison. 
 
 ' Upon my word, 1 think that lie is ashamed 
 of us,' said one of them. '(Vmie, Constant, no 
 false pride ; bring your friend here, and let us 
 drink together.'
 
 20 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' Bring him ! ' shouted all the others in chorus ; 
 ' the friends of our friends are ours too.' 
 
 Manuel carried his glass to the table where 
 they were sitting, and they made room for him. 
 
 ' You seem to be a watchmaker/ said his 
 neighbour, after they had drunk all round. 
 
 'Yes/ 
 
 ' Do you find it amusing ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Does it pay well ? ' 
 
 ' Pretty well,' answered Manuel, who did not 
 like being catechised. 
 
 ' They say it's not a good trade now, for 
 prices have fallen,' said another ; ' in order to 
 get on one must have two strings to one's bow, 
 like our friend Constant here.' 
 
 At that moment Constant Loison stretched 
 his open hand on the table, with the thumb well 
 away from the fingers ; it seemed to be a signal, 
 for every one became silent at once. Manuel, 
 irritated by this suspicious silence, looked around 
 him ironically. He had soon discovered that 
 these hardy youths were smugglers from their 
 bold yet mysterious looks, and the leisure they 
 were enjoying on a week-day, as if they had no 
 need to work. He got up abruptly.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' Don't let me disturb you,' he said. ' You 
 have your little business to talk over. By the 
 way, Constant, have you also joined the illicit 
 traders ? ' 
 
 ' You need not talk about it at home/ said 
 Constant carelessly ; ' our masters might not like 
 it ; they are prejudiced. Besides, it is not just 
 as you think. I am a steady lad ; you know 
 that quite well, since we are room-mates, and 
 work in the same shop. But I have some friends 
 who, as you say, are in the border trade, and 
 who want some capital to work with, so I lend 
 them my little savings to oblige them.' 
 
 ' You get good interest for it,' growled one of 
 these friends. 
 
 ' And quite right too, for I run great risks. 
 We are unlucky just now ; but you don't care to 
 hear all this, Manuel.' 
 
 ' Oh yes, I do,' said the latter with a spice of 
 irony. lie sat down again, while the others 
 went on smoking quietly and listening to the 
 dialogue. 
 
 On all this frontier, where smuggling is con- 
 sidered almost as good as any other trade, no 
 great mystery is made about it. The Custom - 
 lEouse officers know the smugglers personally,
 
 and do not quarrel with them as much as might 
 be expected, except that they exchange shots 
 when they are about their business. In private 
 life they are even sometimes on friendly terms. 
 As for the good people on the frontiers, they 
 saw nothing wrong in smuggling. The ' border 
 lads ' were generally much liked on account of 
 their courage ; only they were blamed for spend- 
 ing recklessly in a day what they had earned 
 in a night. ' He's a good fellow ; he does a little 
 business in tobacco, you know ; ' and this euphe- 
 mism, ' a little business/ was quite understood. 
 Indeed, the feeling of most of the population 
 is in favour of the encouragement of free trade, 
 by which they get their sugar and tobacco 
 cheap. 
 
 Thus it was that the comrades of Constant 
 were not much disturbed by having their real 
 occupation revealed to Manuel. As for Constant 
 himself, he seemed to be much annoyed. The 
 reason of this was that he had been engaged for 
 some time in a very profitable though not very 
 honest trade of sending machinery for watches, 
 by means of the smugglers, to a French house 
 of business, which was in eager rivalry with the 
 factory where he himself was employed. If this
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 23 
 
 were found out lie would lose his place. He was 
 meditating how he could shut Manuel's mouth, 
 and all at once an idea struck him. Just then 
 one of the smugglers, whose mouth was all 
 on one side from his habit of talking with a 
 pipe in the corner of it, joined in the con- 
 versation. 
 
 ' For my part, I know what it is to work at 
 the bench too like you. I used to make handles 
 for files, and I still make them sometimes at odd 
 moments ; but is that a trade to suit bold fellows 
 like us ? I should have grown crazy over it. 
 I must warm my blood with something more 
 exciting. The revenue men, it's true, have all 
 the trumps on their side guns, laws, spies ; in 
 spite of that we lick them well four times out of 
 five.' 
 
 ' But the fifth time you are beaten, and our 
 gains are lost/ said Constant in a melancholy 
 voice. 
 
 ' As I told you, Manuel, we have been out 
 of luck for some time.' He sat down, took up 
 his glass, and continued in a deliberate voice : 
 ' People say that a newcomer always brings back 
 the luck ; is that true, comrades ? ' 
 
 ' It has been known to do so,' answered the man
 
 24 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 with the wry mouth, who seemed to be the 
 spokesman of the band. 
 
 ' What do you think of my friend Manuel as 
 a comrade ? ' asked Constant, twisting his red 
 beard in his fingers. 
 
 Manuel was more surprised than any one at 
 this remark ; he jumped up from his chair and 
 burst out laughing. ' It is indeed an offer to be 
 proud of/ he said ironically. 
 
 ' I am not joking,' said Constant. 
 
 The smugglers, with stolid faces, only showed 
 their surprise by sending out larger puffs of 
 smoke than usual from their pipes. 
 
 ' My suggestion would be advantageous to 
 all parties,' continued Constant. ' You need 
 not join the band for good and all, Manuel ; 
 just one or two runs to bring back the luck. 
 I am sure it would amuse you. I know you 
 well ; you are just as much cut out for the 
 work as a dog is meant to use his teeth ; 
 besides, you w r ould put some money in your 
 pocket.' 
 
 ' And besides that,' added Manuel, throwing 
 himself back in his chair, and looking at his friend 
 with a twinkle in his eye, ' you would be very 
 pleased to have a secret of mine to keep. There
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 25 
 
 would be no fear then of my telling yours if I had 
 one of my own on my conscience.' 
 
 The smugglers laughed loudly at this sally, 
 for, more bold than cunning, they were all en- 
 tangled in the meshes of Constant Loison, and 
 were not sorry to see him ' bowled over,' as they 
 said, by the newcomer. 
 
 'Yet I feel tempted to join,' added Manuel, 
 leaning his elbows on the table and resting his 
 chin on his hands. ' I don't deny that I am 
 tempted,' he paused for a moment, and then 
 raised his head abruptly and went on ' I am no 
 great judge I see there is something for and 
 against your trade, you may perhaps be angry 
 with me, but I don't feel sure that it is an 
 honest trade.' 
 
 He got up, and holding the back of his chair 
 in both hands, waited to see the result of these 
 remarks. 
 
 ' Upon my word/ said the wry - mouthed 
 speaker, ' you are quite right to say your mind 
 frankly ; one can reason with you.' Then turn- 
 ing to his comrades, ' Let me manage it, boys ; L 
 will explain the gist of the matter to him. You 
 know I have read a lot about it in books and 
 newspapers. I had to set my conscience at rest
 
 26 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 like anybody else one wants to be honest while 
 doing a little business. Well, this is the way I 
 explain matters. Liberty is a good thing you 
 grant that I suppose ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly/ answered Manuel. 
 
 ' If a thing is good you can't have too much 
 of it it must be everywhere (it seems to me that 
 I argue correctly) ; then free trade ought to be 
 established, and we are working for that. You 
 see me here, just as I am, in a blouse and a wide- 
 awake ; but I am an apostle of liberty, I may 
 become a martyr in the cause, and the blood of 
 martyrs is the seed of smugglers.' He went on, 
 speaking more emphatically, ' Smuggling will 
 endure as lono; as the Custom -House exists. 
 
 O 
 
 Brothers, we are united in a holy cause, let no 
 base fears make you desert your colours which 
 
 ' here he paused to drink off his glass, and 
 
 all the rest laughed and shouted, ' Long live the 
 orator, long live Firmin Mitou ! '. 
 
 Manuel shrugged his shoulders. ' I was foolish 
 enough to listen to you, thinking that you meant 
 to argue seriously, but at the end of a few words 
 you go off into rhodomontade.' 
 
 ' It's because I am in the habit of making 
 speeches,' answered Firmin. ' If you like we will
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 27 
 
 begin again. You will understand it all in a 
 minute. Now here is my grandfather' he put 
 a glass before Manuel, ' he makes file-handles, 
 as all our family have done since the flood. And 
 there is a tobacco-merchant,' and he placed a 
 bottle opposite the glass. ' Now by ill-luck the 
 frontier is between them,' and he put a knife 
 between the glass and the bottle ; ' now the 
 tobacco-merchant is represented by this bottle.' 
 
 ' I should understand quite as well without all 
 that nonsense/ interrupted Manuel impatiently. 
 
 ' Not at all ; the eye helps the imagination, as 
 is well known. The tobacco-merchant, I say, 
 represented by this bottle, offers his goods to my 
 grandfather at a low price. My grandfather, 
 much pleased, says to me, "Go, my boy, you 
 have a good pair of legs, and mine are old, run 
 and fetch me some packets of that cheap tobacco." 
 I readily obey, and run and fill my basket with 
 it, and come back jumping over the knife 
 that is the frontier. Just then "Stop," cries a 
 cross old dame, the Excise ; " come, my lad, into 
 my ollice, and tell your grandfather from me 
 that he must smoke no other tobacco except 
 mine." -" But it's too dear." -"Never mind 
 that ; I have caught you, my boy, in the act of
 
 2S THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 transgression ; you must pay the fine, or leave 
 your basket here." I run away; she sends her 
 men after me ; I have longer legs than they ; I 
 escape. The next time I take care not to go near 
 her office ; there are many paths across the frontier. 
 I choose the worst, out of politeness to the Custom- 
 House men, leaving them the better roads. Why 
 do they complain of that ? Why do they choose 
 to come and hide themselves in our breakneck 
 paths in order to catch me and steal my goods in 
 the rudest way possible ? Come, tell me, is this 
 justice ; is this freedom ? Why shouldn't I buy 
 my sugar and watches in Switzerland, as long as 
 I pay for them ? What is the use of my being 
 free to work if I may not spend my money as 1 
 choose ? The Custom-House men accuse me of 
 making them turn out at night, which is bad for 
 their rheumatism, and of leading them into dan- 
 gerous places, and even of sending small -shot 
 among them when they come too near. Upon 
 my word, I also should much prefer travelling on 
 the high-road by daylight, for I also am rheu- 
 matic. Why do they hinder me ? ' 
 
 The speaker sat down. 
 
 ' He doesn't argue badly, does he ? ' asked 
 Constant, coming up to Manuel. ' You have
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 29 
 
 scruples, I daresay, but you won't be bound to 
 us for ever ; when you have turned the luck you 
 can leave off. I am thinking of your good too. 
 Do you think that I can't see that you are bored 
 to death in the workshop ? I am showing you a 
 way to get a little excitement in your life. If 
 we were in a large town I should advise you to 
 go to the theatre ; but this is something even 
 better ; you have the chance of playing a part 
 in the piece itself. We have tragic adventures 
 sometimes in our excursions.' 
 
 'Do you join in them yourself?' asked 
 Manuel. 
 
 ' No ; unfortunately I am prevented. I have 
 a weak leg ; a sinew strained when I was a boy. 
 I couldn't bear the long marches.' 
 
 Manuel shrugged his shoulders slightly, and 
 his lips smiled contemptuously. The smugglers 
 got up ; they seemed uncertain what to do. 
 
 ' It is time for us to start,' said Constant in a 
 loud voice. ' Are you coming. Manuel \ ' 
 
 1 What, with us ? ' asked one of the men with 
 a distrustful look. 
 
 'Yes, certainly, with us.' 
 
 ' To the rendezvous down there I ' 
 
 ' Yes, of course.'
 
 30 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 1 Upon my word, it is a great risk. What do 
 we know about him ? ' 
 
 ' I will answer for him/ said Constant, putting 
 his hand on Manuel's shoulder. ' I know him.' 
 
 ' I have not the least wish to betray you,' 
 said Manuel coldly, as he looked round at the 
 smugglers. ' I swear to tell no one of what I 
 have heard here by accident.' 
 
 Constant Loison breathed freely. This oath 
 was at least enough, but if only Manuel would 
 commit himself by joining, they would be still 
 surer of his secrecy. As they left the inn, 
 Manuel, who thought Firmin's conversation 
 amusing, went up to him and asked him several 
 questions. He was surprised to receive only 
 vague answers given in a cross voice. Firmin 
 was always ready to talk on general questions ; 
 but he had this peculiarity, that if any details 
 were asked for lie became as mute as a fish. 
 Manuel, rather annoyed by this strange behaviour, 
 left him and went on, while Firmin drew near to 
 Constant and muttered, 'You must take all the 
 risks and dangers ; we will give him a bale to 
 carry, since the goods are yours ; but you know 
 the path is rough, although you never were 
 there,' he added, in a rather sarcastic voice.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 31 
 
 ' Don't be afraid,' said Constant ; ' he has a 
 steady head and a famous pair of legs. Do you 
 think I am a goose ? I know what I am about. 
 There are not enough of us to carry on the busi- 
 ness ; we want new recruits, and here is one 
 ready to hand ; let us try his mettle, and when he 
 has stood the test, we can see about getting him 
 to join for good and all. Come, Firmin, are you 
 willing ? ' 
 
 ' Of course I must agree, now that you take 
 him under your protection/ said the other, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders ; ' but let us see first what 
 Jonquille says.'
 
 CHAPTEE II 
 
 ' HERE you are at last, Jonquille ; come quick ! ' 
 cried Mother Salome, standing on the threshold 
 of the little inn, her hands on her hips, and her 
 cap all on one side. 
 
 But even her scolding tones were scarcely 
 loud enough to be heard above the tumult of the 
 foaming waters which rushed over the dam, and 
 beat furiously against the garden wall. Jon- 
 quille came slowly down the rough path, stopping 
 here and there to pick a flower, or to roll a pebble 
 down the slope. Though she could see her 
 mother making signs impatiently, she paid little 
 attention to her, and even seemed to slacken her 
 steps on purpose, treading as carefully as if she 
 were trying to avoid quicksands. 
 
 ' Well, mother, what's happened now ? ' she 
 asked carelessly when she reached the bottom of 
 the slope.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 33 
 
 ' I want you, you gadabout, and you choose 
 to run wild in the woods all day. Our boys 
 are in the parlour ; go and wait on them ; I 
 cannot leave my frying - pan. Go quickly, 
 and throw away that bush that you are carry- 
 ing as solemnly as if it were a wax taper in 
 church.' 
 
 Jonquille was carefully carrying a fine rasp- 
 berry bush covered with ripe fruit, which she had 
 brought away, roots and all. 
 
 ' They may wait a little,' she said to herself, 
 shrugging her shoulders ; ' Pierre shall have his 
 raspberries first.' 
 
 She climbed up the narrow, slippery stairs 
 which led to the story above and gently opened 
 the door of a small room where the sun was 
 shining brightly. 
 
 ' Look, Pierre,' she said, ' what I have brought 
 you ! ' 
 
 A pale, delicate lad of fifteen was Ivino- back 
 
 J O 
 
 in a straw armchair near to the open window ; 
 his face wore a gentle, sad expression, and his 
 dreamy brown eyes had a look of patient suffer- 
 ing, while his lips, tightly pressed together, 
 seemed to have long forced themselves to keep 
 back complaints. 
 
 I)
 
 34 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' How do you feel to-day, dear Pierre ? ' asked 
 his sister as she stooped to kiss him. 
 
 ' A little better, thank you.' 
 
 It was the same answer every day, and Jon- 
 quille shook her head and sighed. 
 
 ' I should like so much to stay with you/ she 
 said ; ' but I must be busy downstairs. I will 
 come back as soon as I can and bring a small 
 box to plant this bush in ; and then you will 
 be able to pick raspberries for yourself, just 
 as if you were in the wood. Do you want 
 anything ? Let me shake up your pillows.' 
 
 She was holding Pierre up with one hand 
 and turning the pillow with the other, when 
 an impatient voice was heard calling ' Jonquille, 
 Joncjuille ! ' 
 
 ' Go directly,' said Pierre ; ' don't make her 
 angry.' 
 
 O J 
 
 Jonquille shook the dark curls which fell 
 over her forehead with a defiant air, just as 
 an untamed colt shakes out its mane ; but 
 seeing that Pierre looked frightened she ran 
 downstairs. 
 
 The door of the parlour was open, and the 
 smugglers were standing round Constant and 
 whispering together mysteriously, while ^Manuel
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 35 
 
 stood alone in a corner near the window, look- 
 ing out absently at the view. The roaring 
 river was sparkling in the sun ; great jets of 
 foam in rainbow tints flew up as the water 
 fell over the dam and danced with a kind of 
 savage joy round great masses of rock, as if 
 they were conquered foes. Lofty, stern cliffs 
 closed the gorge on all sides except towards 
 the west, where they stood aside to let the 
 blue mountains appear on the horizon lighted 
 up by the rays of the sun. 
 
 Joncjuille paused on the threshold and ob- 
 served Manuel without his remarking it. She 
 stood in a careless attitude, with one hand 
 resting lightly on her hip. The outline of her 
 lithe figure was seen under the folds of a 
 loose linen jacket, a little yellow silk kerchief 
 suited her soft brown complexion and spark- 
 ling hazel eyes, her wavy hair fell down 
 behind in a tangled mass of curls, and her 
 little upturned chin and rosy lips had a look 
 of saucy archness. She had been standing thus 
 a few minutes when she felt herself seized by 
 the arm and rudely shaken. 
 
 ' Will you do what 1 tell you, at last, you 
 idle girl, you good-for-nothing creature? I
 
 36 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 have been shouting myself hoarse, calling to you, 
 for the last hour.' 
 
 Jonquille shook herself free abruptly, and 
 turned round to face her mother. The hostess 
 and her daughter were exactly alike in features, 
 but the expressions were totally different, and 
 this made the two faces strangely like and yet 
 unlike. 
 
 Salome Juvaret had been handsome, and 
 might still have appeared so if she had taken 
 the trouble to wash and comb herself occasion- 
 ally ; but her rough hair fell down from her 
 cap in tangled locks, and her face and hands 
 showed an intimate acquaintance with black 
 saucepans and the coal-hole. One might have 
 overlooked these faults, perhaps, if she had had 
 a frank, open countenance like Jonquille's. But 
 her dark eyes had a cold, penetrating, yet furtive 
 look, as if she were trying to find the weak 
 corner in one's character, and the way to one's 
 purse. She had a miser's hands long, thin, 
 trembling with eagerness to grasp at every- 
 thing that came in their way. 
 
 ' Come, come, no quarrelling,' said Constant 
 Loison. ' Go back to your saucepans, Mother 
 Salome, and get us a nice dish of trout ready
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 37 
 
 for dinner. In the meanwhile, Jonquille shall 
 fetch us a bottle of wine.' 
 
 Jonquille went to the cupboard and opened 
 it, then turning suddenly to Firmin ' Who is 
 that fellow ? ' she asked, pointing to Manuel. 
 
 Firmin shrugged his shoulders. ' A new 
 fellow, an amateur.' 
 
 'All right,' said Jonquille with the manner 
 of an officer to whom a report has just been 
 made. 
 
 Then she walked straight up to the new- 
 comer and said, ' What is your name ? ' 
 
 ' Manuel Vincent ; and yours, my pretty 
 girl ? ' 
 
 Jonquille looked up haughtily, and her spark- 
 ling eyes met those of the daring youth, who 
 was looking up at her and twisting his moustache. 
 She gave him no answer, but, with the air of an 
 insulted queen, she turned to her staff 
 
 ' Who is this ill-mannered youth you have 
 brought me ? ' she asked ; then, putting the 
 necessary bottles and glasses on the table, she 
 went away, not deigning to glance at any one. 
 
 Many angry eyes were now fixed on Manuel, 
 who stood, vexed and silent, leaning against the 
 window with his arms folded. lie looked like
 
 38 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 a careless wrestler who knows his own strength 
 but disdains to use it. His bronzed face was 
 framed, as it were, by his large black felt hat, 
 his eyes were keen and proud ; the lines in his 
 forehead, his marked features, his great height, 
 and abrupt, impatient movements, all these 
 were signs of a nature strong indeed, but 
 undisciplined. 
 
 ' Good evening to you ! ' he exclaimed at last ; 
 ' I am here like a bull in a china shop ; I shall 
 go off.' 
 
 He turned towards the door, but Constant put 
 his hand on his shoulder. 
 
 ' Stop/ he said, ' if you want to join the band, 
 you must treat Jonquille with respect, and not 
 speak to her as you did just now.' 
 
 ' And, pray, how am I to speak to her ? Must 
 one be silver-tongued ? No, thank you ; that's 
 not my way.' 
 
 ' You don't know her ; she is a good girl, brave 
 and clever to the tips of her fingers ; if it hadn't 
 been for her we should have been caught fifty 
 times. I tell you frankly, if she takes a dis- 
 like to you, it is all over with you, my good 
 fellow.' 
 
 ' Thank you ; I have as yet nothing to do
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 39 
 
 either with her or with you,' said Manuel 
 hoarsely, getting more and more angry. ( If 
 you all like to be in leading-strings to a girl, 
 that is your lookout ; but I don't admire your 
 taste. I suppose you are all in love with her 
 yellow silk kerchief.' 
 
 He laughed contemptuously, but the smugglers, 
 looking furious, formed a circle round him. 
 
 ' Come, come, Manuel did not mean to insult 
 us ! ' cried Constant ; ' he doesn't know Jonquille ; 
 and how should he have an idea of all she 
 does for us ? She is the real captain, and 
 knows all the by-ways, and hates the Custom- 
 House fellows like sin.' 
 
 'Don't forget either,' interrupted Firmin, 
 ' how often she has kept watch by the river- 
 side, ready to bring us across in her boat if 
 the path were beset.' 
 
 ' She bound up my wound with her own 
 beautiful silk handkerchief, which she tore up 
 as if it were a rag ! ' cried another, pushing 
 Firmin aside, that he might catch Manuel's 
 attention. ' 1 had got a charge of buckshot in 
 my shoulder, and Jonquille bound it up as 
 well as the regimental surgeon would have 
 done without making faces, though I was
 
 40 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 bleeding freely. Mayn't one admire her yellow 
 silk kerchief after all that ? Eh ! ' 
 
 Manuel was losing his angry look and getting 
 interested in what he heard, when the door half- 
 opened, and Jonquille's brown head looked in. 
 ' Pierre wants to go down into the garden,' she 
 said ; ' come and help us, Firmin.' 
 
 Firmin got up directly and followed her. 
 
 'What do you think of that fellow, Jon- 
 quille ? ' he asked, pointing with a contemptuous 
 gesture over his shoulder. 
 
 ' The newcomer ? He is a fine lad ; a head 
 taller than any of you,' she answered, throwing 
 a mischievous side -glance at her questioner. 
 ' Don't let him join your band, for I foresee that 
 in three days he would become captain of you 
 all.' 
 
 'Oh, not so fast, if you please; long service 
 surely counts for something. Besides, if we 
 chose a captain at all, it would be you, Jonquille.' 
 
 ' I shall be your captain's wife, and that comes 
 to the same thing,' she answered, laughing. 
 
 ' Constant is determined to force his friend on 
 us,' continued Firmin ; ' but if you don't approve 
 of him, you have only to give the order, and he 
 shall be sent back to where he came from.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 41 
 
 Jonquille half closed her eyes as if to try and 
 fathom her own thoughts. ' I don't dislike him 
 on the whole/ she answered slowly. Her eyes 
 sparkled with amusement when she saw her 
 companion's disappointed look. ' He wants a 
 little training,' she added. ' I have nothing to 
 say against him except that : and if Constant 
 answers for him - but I will make him talk 
 and find out what he is like ; don't be afraid.' 
 
 While dinner was getting ready the smugglers 
 went to a skittle ground not far from the house, 
 near the shed where the wood and the fishing- 
 tackle were stored. Manuel, who had never 
 played, and was afraid of exposing his ignorance, 
 went off by himself quietly, with his hands in 
 his pockets, down to the river. 
 
 There was a large, broken-down water-wheel 
 on the edge of the stream, overrun by luxurious 
 masses of wallflower and delicate fringes of 
 
 O 
 
 grasses, while an old wall was half concealed 
 by the starry flowers of wild clematis. The clear 
 stream, rippling onwards towards the weir, 
 lapped softly on the white pebbly shore. It 
 was a pretty picture, full of life and motion. 
 Manuel sat down on the bank under the shade 
 of an elder tree, and watched the running water
 
 42 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 at his feet, glittering behind the screen of 
 leaves. 
 
 He fell into a reverie. Something told him 
 that this bright, sunny, summer's day was the 
 great day, the turning-point of his life. He felt 
 the crisis coming. Ought he to struggle against 
 destiny, or let it take its way ? Was it for good 
 or for evil that he felt himself thus impelled 
 onwards ? Chance and circumstances had given 
 him an opportunity and were urging him to 
 make use of it. Should he turn back or seize 
 the chance offered him ? Manuel was not the 
 man to do things by halves. If he started on 
 this career he did not mean to turn back. 
 Besides, he knew his own nature too well. This 
 adventurous smuggling life suited his tastes so 
 exactly that he could never give it up if he once 
 began. He looked at the water merrily running 
 down the gorge. Why not follow its example ? 
 Liberty is so delightful ! To be free to do what 
 one likes the whole week through, to wake each 
 morning with the intoxicating certainty that no 
 foreman or master was awaiting one, to live out 
 of doors all day, to go off on hazardous expedi- 
 tions all night in fact, to have a new zest given 
 to the former dull life ! And why not ?
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 43 
 
 ' A smuggler is not a thief/ he said to him- 
 self ; ' he is a man who stands up for the rights 
 of the community. Firmin was right after all, 
 in spite of the nonsense he talked. To be sure 
 I might go to America, and exile might be better 
 than the dull monotony of life in a workshop ; 
 but if one clings to one's own country ? It is 
 hard to leave the familiar paths, the murmuring 
 river, the well-known outlines of the mountains, 
 the bank where at evening one loved to sit, the 
 mossy glen where one gathered mushrooms 
 in spring. The trifling accustomed sights and 
 sounds are all threads one cannot bear to break, 
 because they are so intertwined with one's inmost 
 being. But why break them ? Why emigrate ? ' 
 
 A branch was drifting down the stream ; 
 Manuel's eye was caught by it, and, in order to 
 watch it go over the weir, lie drew aside the 
 leafy boughs which hid the bottom of the gorge 
 and Salome's house, with its garden looking 
 down on the river. Shading his eyes from the 
 
 O */ 
 
 dazzling water he looked thither. 
 
 In the middle of the sunny garden Pierre 
 was half lying, half sitting in his old armchair. 
 His head was a little thrown back, and his thin 
 hands were folded on his knees. He seemed to
 
 44 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 be drinking in the pleasant warmth which was 
 so good for him. Jonquille, quite content to be 
 doing nothing, was sitting in a low chair by his 
 side. In front of them was a large bed of those 
 old-fashioned perennials which require little care, 
 and seem to flower each summer of their own 
 accord. The hollyhocks were beginning to open 
 their large crumpled petals, the larkspurs lifted 
 their dark blue heads proudly, and sweet wall- 
 flowers, great pink and lilac mallows, and sun- 
 flowers, with their golden shields, opened out 
 their gay blossoms joyously in the bright 
 sunlight, under the shelter of the old wall 
 covered with clematis. The river gleamed be- 
 yond ; the light foliage of the beeches was 
 reflected in it, swaying gently with the breeze, 
 as if the boughs were playing hide-and-seek with 
 the waves below. Even the sombre firs seemed 
 to smile gravely on this bright summer's day. 
 
 ' Jonquille,' said Pierre, ' don't go back to 
 them ; stay with me, won't you ? ' and he looked 
 towards the place where the group of smugglers 
 were gathered some finishing their game, others 
 lying idly stretched out in the sun. 
 
 'Just as you like, Pierre,' said Jonquille gently, 
 leaning her head on her brother's shoulder.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 45 
 
 ' When I see you all alone amongst them,' lie 
 added with a thoughtful look, ' I am always re- 
 minded of the woman who went into the lion's 
 cage. Do you remember ; it was a long time ago 
 at the fair ? The lion allowed her to sit on his 
 back, to plait his mane, and to pull his ears. He 
 seemed as tame as a great hound. But a few 
 weeks afterwards we heard that he had killed 
 her with a stroke of his paw.' 
 
 Jonquille smiled. ' I would just as soon die 
 in that way as in any other,' she said. 
 
 Pierre put his hand before her mouth. 
 
 ' You rule them all with your little finger, but 
 can this go on much longer ? ' he asked. ' You 
 may want a man to protect you some day ; but 
 I shall never be anything but a poor creature,' 
 he added with a sigh. 
 
 Jonquille bent down to him tenderly. 
 
 ' I like you just as you are, dear. I would 
 not exchange you for a dozen stronger brothers.' 
 
 And strange to say, in spite of his frail health, 
 he guarded his sister from many a danger. If 
 Pierre had not been there, with his delicate tact, 
 warning and restraining her, Joiujuille might 
 have become rough and unwomanly ; but the 
 time she spent by his side made her voice grow
 
 46 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 gentle, her step light, her touch 
 Pierre's influence was all the more effective 
 because it was unconscious. He loved his sister 
 with passionate gratitude. He never thought 
 that Jonquille could do wrong. 
 
 ' Now, you needn't go back to them,' he 
 argued persistently ; ' the lads can dine without 
 you. Go and fetch your knitting, and we will 
 enjoy ourselves quietly here while they make a 
 noise in the parlour.' 
 
 ' My knitting ! ' exclaimed Jonquille, stretch- 
 ing herself out indolently to bask in the sun like 
 a kitten. ' Oh, I am so awkward ; I drop my 
 stitches ; the wool gets in a tangle. It fidgets 
 me to knit.' 
 
 ' Well, then, get your spinning-wheel. I like 
 to see you spin. If you only knew how nice 
 you look then. I am sure that Queen Bertha 
 was not so pretty as you.' 
 
 ' Ah ! you try to coax me with flattery,' said 
 Jonquille, laughing. ' If you would only say 
 that it pleases you, Pierre, that would be a better 
 reason than any other to me.' 
 
 She ran with light steps to the house, and 
 came back in a few minutes with a work-basket 
 on her arm.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 47 
 
 ' Something has gone wrong with my spinning- 
 wheel ! ' she cried ; ' the wheel is broken, the 
 treadle is out of order.' 
 
 ' I will mend it to-morrow,' said Pierre ; ' but 
 just now my back hurts me a little.' 
 
 He met his sister's eyes, which were full of 
 anxious inquiry. 
 
 ' It's nothing/ he added. ' I am tired ; that's 
 all tired though I have done nothing,' he said 
 in a low voice, turning his head away. 
 
 Jonquille threw both her arms round his neck. 
 
 ' Now you are talking nonsense, dear Pierre,' 
 she said reproachfully. ' Done nothing, indeed ! 
 Why, you work harder than any one in the house. 
 To be sure you don't chop wood there are plenty 
 of rough fellows for that sort of work, but you 
 mend everything that gets broken ; you write all 
 our letters, keep the accounts, where mother and 
 I should make a muddle, and read books, so that 
 you can tell us about them afterwards, and make 
 me a little less ignorant than I should be. Isn't 
 all that doing something ? ' 
 
 Pierre smiled, and said, ' By the way, talking 
 of letter-writing, Marcelin made me write yester- 
 day to the shopkeeper, for whom he makes 
 handles for files, in this way : " Excuse me, sir,
 
 48 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 for having delayed in carrying out your order. 
 I was obliged to go and bury my father ; this 
 shan't happen again." And he always makes me 
 end the letter, " Believe me, yours sincerely and 
 obediently." ' 
 
 Jonquille laughed, and Pierre continued, ' It 
 is sometimes very amusing to write letters for 
 them ; and then they tell me stories quite as 
 interesting as those in books, or more, because of 
 the gestures with which they tell them. They 
 are very good fellows by daylight ; but I am told 
 that at night they are a mad set. But you know 
 more about that than I do, Jonquille.' 
 
 Jonquille put her fingers on her lips. 
 
 ' It doesn't do to talk about that ; our lads 
 don't like it. Just see how your stories have 
 made me cret on with mv knitting it's wonderful ; 
 
 o / O y 
 
 no one else could do it. Now, while I am knit- 
 ting, tell me the story of Queen Bertha, who 
 wasn't prettier than I am ; do.' 
 
 There were four or five pairs of half-finished 
 stockings in her basket. They must have been 
 lying there a long time, to judge by the quantity 
 of dust which Jonquille shook out from them, as 
 she held them up, and looked at them with an 
 air of perplexity.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 49 
 
 ' Wlmt a pity that it takes two to make a pair,' 
 she said, sighing; 'the first is all very well, but 
 the trouble is to make a second just like it. 
 Come, here are two that might do very well as a 
 pair; only one is gray, and the other brown.' 
 
 Jonquille was not quite as awkward as she 
 pretended to be, and soon the click of her needles 
 was heard as an accompaniment to the story of 
 Bertha, the queen who span so well. Pierre told 
 it gravely, with a number of details not men- 
 tioned in the old tale. 
 
 He leant on his elbow, with his cheek resting 
 on his hand, and the excitement of story-telling 
 had brought a little colour to his face. His eyes 
 rested on his sister, who sometimes smiled up at 
 him and then bent her eyes on her work, frown- 
 ing and pouting her lips as she came across some 
 difficulty. Sometimes she held up her stocking 
 and looked at it with critical, half-shut eves to 
 see what shape it was taking ; in short, she was 
 as solemn as was fit for such a serious enterprise. 
 
 'Queen Bertha,' said Pierre, with his eyes 
 still resting on Jonquille, ' went about the country 
 on her little white ambling palfrey; a distaff. 
 with fine wool on it, and ornamented with a silver 
 ribbon, was fastened to her saddle-1 
 
 K
 
 50 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 silver spindle hung from her girdle ; she spun as 
 she went along, and a fine gold ring shone on her 
 hand. The queen had dark brown hair, waving 
 and curling, and it fell down her back, though 
 she plaited it up each morning. She didn't wear 
 her crow r n when she was travelling ; it was too 
 heavy and too grand for every day ; she wore it 
 only on Sundays, and the rest of the week she 
 wore a large hat. For good Queen Bertha liked 
 simple ways. She had brown eyes, with long 
 silky lashes, which cast a shadow on her cheeks 
 when she bent them down over her knitting 
 no, I mean her distaff. But her eyes were stern 
 when she raised them to rebuke any wicked 
 lord ; yet they could look very soft when she 
 smiled at some shepherdess spinning like herself. 
 Queen Bertha travelled so much through the 
 country in the hot sun that her skin was sun- 
 burnt, yet it was soft and fine as a princess's 
 should be. She wore a pretty yellow silk ker- 
 chief round her neck 
 
 Jonquil le raised her eyes, laughing. 
 
 ' That's not fair ! ' she cried ; ' I was listening to 
 you with both ears so attentively, and then you 
 begin to describe me. I know very well that I 
 am pretty after my own fashion, for I have been
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 told it often enough ; but Queen Bertha had blue 
 eyes and golden hair, and skin as white as the 
 holy Virgin's ; a brown skin, and eyes the colour 
 of blackberries in the hedges, are only fit for a 
 smuggler's wife there now, I have dropped a 
 stitch.' 
 
 At this moment Mother Salome appeared at 
 the garden fence. 
 
 ' Jonquille/ she called out, ' we have no more 
 white wine, and won't the lads be angry. Run 
 to Moron and ask them to let us have five or six 
 bottles, and to tell the carter to bring us a small 
 cask the first time he comes this way. If you 
 
 V %/ 
 
 are quick you can be bnck in three-quarters of 
 an hour. Come, get your basket and be off.' 
 
 Jonquille frowned and looked vexed. 
 
 ' Upon my word, the boys could do without 
 white wine for once in a way and not be the 
 worse for it. Must I leave you, Pierre, just 
 when we were so comfortably nettled, and that 
 my stocking was getting on quite nicely ? ' 
 
 ' Do what she tells you,' said Pierre ; ' you 
 know how mother can scold when she gets anury, 
 and what bad words she says. Go quickly, there 
 will still be plenty of time when you come back/ 
 
 Jonquille got up reluctantly and went towards
 
 52 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 the house. When she came out of it she had 
 put on her shady hat, and carried a basket out 
 of which peeped the necks of several bottles. 
 She held a book in the other hand. 
 
 ' See, Pierre,' she said, stroking his cheek, 
 ' here is a new book to amuse you. I think it 
 must be a nice story, for the pictures at least 
 look amusing.' 
 
 ' Why are you always buying me new books ? ' 
 asked Pierre reproachfully. ' I have plenty now ; 
 I can read the old ones over again. Jonquille, 
 where do you get the money that you spend on 
 me ? ' 
 
 She blushed and answered, ' I earn it.' 
 
 Then she turned away abruptly and left him. 
 A minute after she was going up the path just 
 above where Manuel was sitting. When he heard 
 her light step he looked up. 
 
 He had been thinking of her, of her proud 
 looks, and of the stories he had just heard about 
 her. In a moment he was on his feet, sud- 
 denly inspired by the wish to restore himself 
 into the good graces of the smugglers' queen. 
 He climbed up the bank, sprung over a rock that 
 stopped the way, and found himself by Jon- 
 (juille's side. She looked at him with a cold.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 53 
 
 inquiring air, and all at once he felt embarrassed. 
 He said to himself that he did not know how to 
 talk to girls, especially to such a one as Jonquille, 
 who seemed easily offended. His first attempt 
 had been so unlucky that he hardly expected to 
 be more successful the second time. 
 
 ' Give me your basket/ he said at last abruptly ; 
 ' we are going the same road.' 
 
 ' So much the worse,' she said in an ungracious 
 tone. 
 
 He looked at her and frowned ; but hardly 
 knowing why, he went on walking by her side. 
 They had been silent for some minutes, when 
 Jonquille suddenly remembered that she might 
 use this unexpected tete-a-tete in order to find 
 out what the new comrade was like, as she had 
 promised Firm in she would. She stopped a 
 moment and said, ' I want that bit of green up 
 there,' pointing with her finger to a large fern 
 which was waving like a plume on the top of a 
 pyramid of rocks which had fallen, and were now 
 covered with moss, and heaped one on another in 
 unstable equilibrium. 
 
 Manuel gave a bound, and put his foot on a 
 stone which shook beneath him. but he did not 
 give it time to fall before he had scrambled up
 
 54 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 to the top of the pile. He stooped and picked 
 the fern, and with two bounds was again on the 
 path. 
 
 ' That wasn't badly done, you upset nothing,' 
 said Jonquille, and with the air of a queen who 
 confers a favour on a subject of humblest degree 
 she added, 'You may carry my basket.' Then 
 she took the fern Manuel had brought her, 
 twisted it up into a little green ball, and threw it 
 carelessly into the river. 
 
 Manuel was too proud to take any notice of 
 this ; his face betrayed nothing, and they both 
 walked on together. 
 
 ' He has a sure foot and a quick eye for the 
 best path,' said Jonquille to herself ; ' not a stone 
 rolled away under him, but something more is 
 wanted to make a good smuggler.' 
 
 ' Why do they call you Jonquille ? ' asked 
 Manuel suddenly. 
 
 He was not a great talker and quite ignorant 
 of the art of chansrinsr the subject in conversa- 
 
 O O *) 
 
 tion. 
 
 ' It was a painter who called me that,' said 
 Jonquille. ; The priest had done his best by me 
 and baptized me Barnabee after his patron saint. 
 St. Barnabas. But those grand names are fit
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 55 
 
 for good girls who hem pocket-handkerchiefs all 
 day long ; it was as ill-suited to me as a holy 
 rosary is to a little imp. At least the artist said 
 so ; and he spent a fortnight with us just on 
 purpose to paint my picture. He called me 
 Jonquille because 1 am fond of yellow, and 
 because I am a proud wild-flower, as he used to 
 say. A proud wild-flower,' she repeated, bending 
 her head ; ' that is very pretty too pretty for 
 me. I am only a naughty girl ; ask my mother, 
 and she will tell you so.' 
 
 She began to laugh, then suddenly looked as 
 solemn as a judge. 
 
 ' How old are you ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' Twenty-three.' 
 
 ' What is your trade ? ' 
 
 ' A watchmaker.' 
 
 ' Have you any one belonging to you ? ' 
 
 'No, I am quite alone,' answered Manuel 
 rather sadly. 
 
 She looked at him for a moment and her 
 voice became less stern. 
 
 ' Do you wish to belong to the band ? ' 
 
 ' I have not made up my mind.' 
 
 ' You have made a mistake,' she interrupted 
 him in an ironical tone; 'it is tec who have not
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 made up our minds whether we will let you join ; 
 \ve are not at all sure. Oh, indeed ! So you 
 thought that it was for you to decide ; you shall 
 make up your mind at once, do you hear ! 
 Fancy coming to my mother's house before you 
 had made up your mind. I shall count ten, and 
 if you don't say Yes before I have finished, it 
 shall be No, Mr. Watchmaker.' 
 
 She stopped, and stood with her arms folded 
 and an imperious look. 
 
 Manuel's fiery blood mounted to his cheeks 
 in anger, then he became pale and bit his lips. 
 He placed himself in front of Jonquille, and in a 
 restrained voice said 
 
 ' It shall be neither Yes nor No till I choose to 
 decide. Besides, begging your pardon, my deal- 
 ings are with Constant Loison and not with 
 petticoats.' 
 
 To his great surprise Jonquille, instead of 
 giving him an angry look, burst out laughing. 
 
 ' That's quite right,' she said, ' that is your 
 answer; but remember, no one joins the band 
 without my permission ; so you will have to ask 
 me this evening to give it.' 
 
 ' We shall see,' said the youth in a low voice. 
 
 Jonquille walked on humming a tune.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 57 
 
 ' Have you known Constant Loison long ? ' 
 she asked, after a few minutes. 
 
 ' About a year ; and how long have you known 
 him ? ' 
 
 ' I can't say ; I don't remember. He is one of 
 my admirers ; but I don't pay any attention to 
 that.' 
 
 ' One of your admirers ? Have you got a 
 great many, pray ? ' 
 
 ' Twelve or thirteen ; I don't know exactly 
 how many.' 
 
 She stood still, and her bright eyes looked at 
 him under her lashes. 
 
 ' I can't help it,' she continued, as she saw 
 that he looked horrified ; ' I don't want them. I 
 would gladly get rid of them all thirteen to the 
 dozen, and not dear ! ' 
 
 Manuel coughed to clear his voice, for he felt 
 a choking in his throat. He was not sentimental, 
 but to see this young girl growing up like a 
 wild-flower at her own free will without guidance 
 or support touched his heart. 
 
 ' Listen to me,' he said abruptly, for he felt 
 awkward ; ' I will tell you what your mother 
 ought to have taught you. I know the world 
 don't tell any one what you have told me. L
 
 58 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 know you didn't mean any harm,' he added, as 
 he met Jonquille's honest, fearless eyes; ' but you 
 would give people a bad impression of yourself.' 
 
 ' A bad impression ! ' she repeated, lifting her 
 head proudly, though a fiery blush mounted into 
 her cheeks. ' Who would get a bad impression, 
 and why ? I am not doing any harm. None of 
 our lads would touch me with the tip of his finger 
 any more than if I were a plaster saint in a 
 niche. The world may think what it likes ; I 
 care as little for it as that,' and with her foot 
 she rolled a pebble contemptuously into the 
 river. 
 
 ' You are wrong,' rejoined Manuel, more ener- 
 getically than before, as if he felt strongly about 
 this. 'Your friends ought to warn you.' 
 
 ' The daughter of Mother Salome has no 
 friends,' she answered coldly. ' Besides, I can 
 do very well without them. But you are not 
 listening to me,' she added, turning round 
 abruptly to Manuel. He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 ' I can't help listening,' he said. 
 
 She looked at him with a strange smile. 
 
 ' You will be able to listen to me better this 
 evening,' she said. 
 
 The ironworks of Moron were now in sight.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 59 
 
 As they drew near a small cottage by the roadside 
 a large dog, dragging its heavy chain, rushed bark- 
 ing at them. Jonquille knew the beast, and was 
 quite aware that its bark was worse than its bite, 
 but wishing to test her companion's courage, she 
 seized Manuel's arm and looked at him with wide- 
 open eyes, full of feigned terror. 
 
 ' Stand behind me,' said Manuel. 
 
 When the dog made a spring at him he 
 quietly bent down and seized him by the collar, 
 and, in spite of the desperate struggles of the 
 animal, which seemed nearly choked, he dragged 
 it ignominiously to its kennel and fastened its 
 chain at a short length to a hook in the wall, so 
 as to leave the culprit in an uncomfortable 
 position ; then he contemptuously threw it a 
 crust of bread from his pocket and went back to 
 Jonquille. 
 
 ' That is a nasty beast,' lie said quietly. 
 
 'You have made its chain too short,' she 
 answered. 'It's cruel; he will strangle himself.' 
 
 And without giving her companion time to 
 stop her she ran to the dog, whose foaming jaws 
 did not look reassuring, and pulling at the 
 chain with both hands, she managed to get the 
 rinsi off the hook.
 
 60 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' If I let the dog go lie will jump on you/ she 
 said, looking at Manuel. 
 
 He only shrugged his shoulders. Jonquille 
 looked at him for a moment, nodded her ap- 
 proval, and then refastened the chain on the 
 hook, but giving it a greater length than before. 
 Then she returned to the young man. 
 
 ' You are no coward,' she said. 
 
 ' Nor you either,' he answered. 
 
 A few minutes later they were on their way 
 home to Chatelot. 
 
 Jonquille had several strings to her bow. 
 When she chose she could soften her imperious 
 ways ; her voice could have liquid tones ; her lips 
 give something like the tender smile which was 
 reserved for Pierre only. She now used her 
 charms on Manuel, and succeeded in making him 
 talk. Bit by bit he told her about his troubles. 
 Sometimes he would stop as if surprised to find 
 himself talking so freely, and then she would 
 encourage him to go on by a gesture or question- 
 ing look. 
 
 ' So you seem to find life rather dull some- 
 times,' she said in a low tone with surprise ; ' 1 
 never find it dull.' 
 
 ' That's not wonderful,' the young man said,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 61 
 
 shrugging his shoulders. ' You are free, and can 
 be out of doors as much as you like. But you 
 don't know how lucky you are. If yoit could 
 only be shut up for a week in a stuffy factory, 
 with the smell of rancid oil in your nose, and the 
 noise of machinery vibrating in your ears, till 
 you felt as if a mill was going round in your 
 head.' 
 
 He paused as he remembered the appearance 
 of the factory girls as they came out of the 
 workshops ; some merely vulgar, others brazen- 
 looking, others shamefaced and timid, hiding 
 behind their companions, to escape the bold looks 
 and jokes of the workmen. He thought of the 
 gossip that passed round in working- hours, of 
 the nicknames given to the poor girls, of notes 
 he had himself received. He turned towards 
 Jonquille with a masterful, almost violent ges- 
 ture, and exclaimed 
 
 ' Never go there ; never put your foot inside 
 a factory; you had better eat dry bread and 
 drink on!}' water all your life.' 
 
 'How odd you are,' she said. 'Why, I 
 never thought of u'oino; into a factorv ! what 
 
 O O O tj 
 
 an idea ! ' 
 
 Manuel alreadv regretted his words. In his
 
 62 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 solitary life he had got into the habit of giving 
 vent to any agitating thoughts in violent 
 exclamations and broken sentences. Jonquille 
 found his conversation very disconnected, but 
 in spite of that she was interested in it, and 
 had already read off two or three pages oi 
 the scrawled manuscript of Manuel's character. 
 She went home quite convinced that he would 
 make an excellent smuggler. She told this to 
 Firmin, but he only seemed half pleased. On 
 the other hand, Constant Loison was delighted 
 at the news. 
 
 ' I knew it,' he said ; ' but your opinion will 
 have more weight than mine. Oh, my dear, you 
 are as clever as you are beautiful ! ' 
 
 ' Be quiet ; that's enough,' she said, turning 
 her back on him. 
 
 Dinner was now ready, and the whole band 
 trooped into the low room, asking loudly for 
 Jonquille to come and wait on them. But she 
 never appeared ; she was not lavish of her 
 favours, and often went away when her presence 
 was most desired. She dined with Pierre, and 
 spent all the afternoon either in the kitchen, 
 where Mother Salome would not allow her 
 daughter to be plagued, or in her brother's
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 63 
 
 room, mending clothes more skilfully than might 
 have been expected. 
 
 Manuel found the afternoon long. He was 
 coldly received by the others, in spite of all 
 Constant Loison's efforts to establish friendly 
 relations between the old set and the newcomer. 
 He was nearly going off two or three times, but 
 how could he leave without saying good-bye to 
 Jonquille ? He wandered round the house, and 
 near the garden, and at last followed a narrow 
 path leading out of the gorge, and sat down on 
 some rugged broken steps cut in the rock above 
 the river, which connected the upper with the 
 lower path. He remained there a long time, 
 his elbow on his knee, and his chin resting on 
 his hand. The maiden-hair fern was hanging in 
 delicate fringes from all the steps of the rock, 
 and bluebells were nodding their heads on their 
 delicate stalks. A little shy lizard, seeing this 
 motionless figure, first hesitated, then ventured 
 to glide quietly on to a fiat stone as broad as 
 one's hand, to take its siesta there after the 
 Italian fashion. 
 
 The river below ran gently between the banks, 
 which opened wider here to allow its waters 
 space to spread their waves, edged with creamy
 
 64 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 foam. Sometimes a swift, capricious wave would 
 wet a pebble or a tuft of grass which the next 
 wave would disdain to touch, but would instead 
 rush ambitiously up a small rock and fall in a 
 miniature cascade ; a third wave would press 
 onward, pursuing a butterfly which hovered over 
 the stream. But the next wave would again wet 
 the pebble, which was already dried by the sun ; 
 the same gambols would follow one another, and 
 the clear river went on gleaming and sparkling, 
 speeding ever onward and singing its mono- 
 tonous chant. 
 
 There is a mysterious charm and fascination 
 in running water ; we cannot help watching it 
 and wondering where this wave will break, and 
 then the next, and the one after, and while we 
 watch we can think of nothing : thought becomes 
 reverie, and the mind refuses to fix itself on any 
 subject while the water is gliding and leaping 
 below us. If you try to tear yourself away from 
 this strange fascination, the white witch clashes 
 a handful of glistening foam in your eyes and 
 vanishes in a rainbow ; then she arches her white 
 neck like a swan, or appears clear as crystal ; 
 now site is angry, now she smiles; she murmurs 
 and whispers softly till she has again bound you
 
 to her side with fresh enchantments. Manuel at 
 length covered his eyes with his hand to try to 
 collect his thoughts which wandered down the 
 running stream. He was by nature more im- 
 pulsive than reflective ; he was not given to 
 weighing reasons or testing motives. Hitherto 
 he had always followed his first impulse, and as 
 he was good-hearted and right-minded, this had 
 generally led to no bad results. He was not one 
 of those undecided people who are always saying, 
 ' I have not made up my mind ! ' He formed 
 resolutions suddenly, and kept them. Eager in 
 all his desires, he did not need to question him- 
 self long to know what he should like to do. 
 For ten years he had had but one wish to be 
 free. Now the door of his prison was ajar, he 
 had but to say a word and it would stand wide 
 open, and he could go forth freely into a new life 
 outside. But some scruples still kept him back. 
 Manuel, though intelligent, had not received 
 much education, and the primary school, in 
 teaching him to read, had bestowed rather a 
 
 O 7 
 
 useless gift, for since the day he had left school 
 he had hardly opened a book except his hymn- 
 book when lie went to church. Now and thru 
 in winter lie looked at a newspaper in spare 
 
 F
 
 66 
 
 moments, and would read the article on Meteor- 
 ology, to see what weather was predicted for the 
 coming month ; or he glanced at the list of 
 candidates, to see for whom he must vote. In 
 his solitary walks the magpies and jays were the 
 only creatures he met who could possibly talk, 
 and they did not discuss politics. And thus he 
 knew nothing about social questions, not even 
 the affairs of the country, the altering of taxes, 
 or the revision of the Constitution. 
 
 He had never thought about free trade, or 
 even heard discussed the intricate subject of 
 protection and Custom -House duties. Firmin 
 Mitou's logic had appeared to him sound, and he 
 came to the same conclusions after reflecting on 
 the matter. 
 
 * Upon my word, it is helping poor people to 
 give them tobacco and sugar at a fairer price. 
 Where does the money raised by taxes go ? 
 Into the Government's pocket, I suppose, and 
 poor people don't put their hands into that. 
 We must help each other, and I am quite 
 willing to fill the snuff-box of Firmin Mitou's 
 grandfather, even if I must walk fifteen miles 
 to do it. If I pay the merchant I don't defraud 
 any one ; on the contrary, I encourage commerce,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 67 
 
 which is not so very flourishing, and I am ready 
 to risk my life in this calling.' 
 
 Many people reason after this fashion, and 
 even those who boast that they are logical are 
 inclined to think that where there is courage, 
 there they are sure to keep honour untarnished. 
 Manuel, who was an ignorant fellow, may be 
 forgiven for adapting this false reasoning to his 
 own case. 
 
 The sun was now setting and the long 
 shadows were filling the gorge, which grew 
 cold and gloomy. Manuel, benumbed by sit- 
 ting in one posture, got up, and was walking 
 back to the inn when a tall, spare form was seen 
 coming between the trees to meet him. It was 
 Constant, who had grown uneasy at Manuel's 
 long absence, and feared he had gone home 
 quietly without saying a word to any one. 
 
 ' Here you are at last ! ' he cried, ' brooding- 
 all alone ; well, what have you decided ? ' 
 
 ' I am ready to join the band/ said Manuel 
 in a firm voice ; ' I like that better than exile. 
 I don't see any crime or fraud in it. If the 
 Government does not approve, so much the worse 
 for it. There are risks of course, but 1 prefer 
 a short and merry life to a long one dragged
 
 68 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 out for eighty years, and then perhaps to die of 
 dulness at last.' 
 
 He said this resolutely, with his head erect, 
 and his eyes sparkling with fire and energy. 
 But as he ended his voice suddenly dropped. 
 He seemed to have been pronouncing his own 
 doom ; he felt a sharp pang, and a strange fore- 
 boding pierced his heart like a keen, cold blade 
 of steel. He held his breath as if listening to 
 the echo of his own words ; but it was too late 
 to recall them. 
 
 The ravine was now quite dark; while Manuel's 
 last word was uttered the sun sank behind the 
 lofty cliffs crowned with fir-trees, and the young 
 man stood mute, bending his head as a mysterious 
 fear smote him. 
 
 ' If I am doing wrong, may God forgive me ; 
 I know so little, and I can't see far before me/ 
 he muttered slowly. 
 
 Then leaving Constant behind he strode 
 rapidly down to the inn.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE lamps were already lit in the low parlour 
 where Mother Salome was laying the table, 
 while the smugglers were playing at cards or 
 smoking. They had rejoiced when they saw 
 Manuel go off, thinking that the fellow who 
 had excited their jealousy and suspicion had 
 given up all idea of joining them, and they 
 could hardly conceal their displeasure at his 
 return. An hour before Manuel might have 
 resented this treatment and turned his back 
 on them ; but now that he had made up his 
 mind he was prepared to take all the conse- 
 quences, and ready to face and overcome any 
 obstacles which should arise. He entered the 
 room holding his head high, and without notic- 
 ing the black looks cast on him, walked to the 
 farther end, and leaned his back ngainst the 
 window with such a resolute air that no one 
 dared to pick a quarrel with him.
 
 70 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Supper being ready every one sat down. 
 Manuel, instead of seating himself near Constant 
 as if under his patronage, chose to place himself 
 between the two smugglers who had seemed 
 least well disposed towards him. He did not 
 speak during the w r hole meal, but his determined 
 air said a great deal. The night was dark, and 
 as the last gleams of light died away the noise 
 of the weir seemed to grow louder, the dull roar 
 swelled at times like an angry voice, then sank 
 in a prolonged groan ; one might have thought 
 that a troop of souls in purgatory were passing 
 through the gorge, as a confused murmur of 
 wings was heard brushing by, then a sound of 
 sobs, till they vanished in the darkness. 
 
 Manuel listened much more to this melancholy 
 music than to the noisy conversation of his com- 
 panions ; he tried to find articulate sounds in 
 the monotonous murmur of the stream ; he 
 fancied he heard sudden exclamations, wild 
 cries, ill-omened whispers, as if one wave were 
 telling another of some wicked deed. 
 
 This chant, always the same, yet always 
 different, fascinated Manuel's ears just as the 
 play of the waves had fascinated his eyes. By 
 dint of listening he thought that he heard his 
 
 O O
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 71 
 
 name in each plaintive sound, as if each spirit 
 passing beneath the window murmured Manuel ! 
 Manuel ! Then the voice became louder and 
 more imperious ; it came in great gusts of sound 
 broken by sobs, and all the waves surging over 
 the dam and falling together seemed to moan 
 Manuel ! Manuel ! The young man remained 
 riveted to his seat, tightly clasping his knees 
 with both hands, his eyes were fixed, and he 
 felt a strange hallucination overmastering him. 
 By a violent effort he roused himself from the 
 paralysing influence. He sat up and drank oft' 
 his glass at a draught, then turning, was going 
 to speak to his neighbour when the door opened 
 and Jonquille appeared. She was greeted with 
 loud cries of delight. 
 
 ' Here you are at last ! that is right ; you left 
 us alone all day, Jonquille ; come and sit here 
 no, here, at the top of the table.' 
 
 She answered nothing, but began helping her 
 mother to clear away. When there was nothing 
 left on the table but some bottles and glasses, 
 Jonquille sat down at a little distance from the 
 smugglers, while Mother Salome stood on the 
 threshold. The young men all got up with 
 one accord and grouped themselves in a semi-
 
 72 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 circle round Jonquille, who said in her clear 
 voice 
 
 ' All day long you have been eating and 
 drinking and playing skittles ; it is time now 
 to think of business. Who will begin ? ' 
 
 ' I,' said Firmin Mitou, coming forward ; ' I 
 propose that we settle about this new comrade.' 
 
 Then he sat down. 
 
 ' Quite right,' answered Constant. ' I pro- 
 pose that he should be enlisted, and I will be 
 his godfather and surety. If any of you 
 has anything to say against it let him speak 
 out.' 
 
 ' We don't know him at all/ said one of the 
 men, throwing a suspicious look at Manuel. 
 
 ' I know him well enough,' answered Constant. 
 
 ' There are enough of us already.' 
 
 ' On the contrary, we have not lads enough 
 for the work.' 
 
 ' Say at once that you lay down the law for 
 us,' grumbled Firmin ; ' it is all a sham, pretend- 
 ing to consult us.' 
 
 ' Not at all ; and to show you that I am seek- 
 ing the good of all, I will leave the decision to 
 Jonquille.' 
 
 There was a moment's silence ; all eyes were
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 73 
 
 turned to the young girl who, bending forward, 
 her chin resting on her hand, seemed with her 
 keen eyes to read the inmost thoughts of the 
 faces turned towards her. A lamp with a large 
 shade hung just above her, and she sat in the 
 full glare of its yellow light, while the smugglers 
 round her were left in shadow. In this bright 
 circle, edged with darkness, her little brown 
 head, with the hair curling naturally about her 
 neck, stood out in strong relief; the loosely- 
 knotted, amber-coloured kerchief glowed in the 
 light, and the outline of the still childish, supple 
 figure was clearly seen. All the vulgar details 
 of an ordinary inn parlour disappeared from 
 sight, Jonquille alone Jonquille, with her 
 thoughtful eyes and her form bending forward, 
 with its strange charm, and surrounded by this 
 yellow light, which appeared like a mystic 
 aureole, Jonquille alone was the picture which 
 met the eye. After a moment's silence she 
 turned to Manuel. 
 
 ' Come here/ she said curtly. 
 
 He stood up, but without approaching her. 
 A sort of respectful fear prevented his setting 
 foot in the luminous circle which surrounded her. 
 
 ' Come nearer,' she added.
 
 74 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 He obeyed, and stood in front of her in the 
 full light of the lamp which revealed every line 
 in his face. 
 
 ' Before we admit you, we must make certain 
 that you wish to join us. Do you, or do you 
 not wish to become a member of the band ? ' 
 
 ' I do/ he answered resolutely. 
 
 ' And you ask me to admit you ? ' 
 
 ' I do,' he answered again. 
 
 She was evidently the queen and leader ; she 
 looked at him with such a calm, imperious glance, 
 that he never for a moment hesitated in yielding 
 submission to her. As she was the recognised 
 chief, it seemed the right thing for him to obey. 
 But all at once their morning's talk came back 
 to his mind, and he blushed at the memory. 
 Jonquille, as if the same thought had struck her, 
 gave him a haughty and triumphant look. 
 
 ' Very well,' she said, ' you are now enlisted 
 among us. To-night you will be tested ; we 
 don't trouble about long ceremonies. There is 
 no oath to take, for honest men don't require to 
 be bound by that, and traitors perjure themselves 
 as easily as they swallow a draught of water. 
 Come lads, shake hands with Manuel Vincent, 
 and take him as a comrade and friend.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 75 
 
 Firmin Mitou unwillingly stretched out his 
 hand to Manuel, but the latter answered, 'Wait 
 till to-morrow ; you will then know whether I 
 deserve the honour of being your comrade.' 
 
 ' I shouldn't mind waiting a year,' said Firmin 
 in a grumbling tone. 
 
 The others all thrust their hands hurriedly 
 into their pockets, delighted to be spared a little 
 longer giving the welcome which Jonquille 
 demanded for the newcomer. Every one went 
 back to his seat, and the details of the next 
 expedition were discussed and arranged. 
 
 Manuel was in an absent mood. As he had 
 as yet no voice in the discussion, he did not pay 
 much attention to it ; all he thought of was that 
 now he was free, and his heart beat fast with joy, 
 as he realised that the past was past indeed, and 
 the great leap taken into a new life ; it was a 
 leap in the dark, but Manuel felt no fear ; no- 
 thing but a wild joy, an intoxicating happiness, 
 and a confused sense of triumph filled his brain ; 
 he restrained himself, but inwardly he was sing- 
 ing a hymn of thanksgiving for his deliverance. 
 
 ' Everything is now arranged!' cried Constant, 
 ' so give us a song, Jonquille.' 
 
 She got up at once, without a word, and
 
 76 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 without waiting to be asked again. The men 
 who had been talking stopped, without wait- 
 ing to finish a sentence ; and those who were 
 going to drink put down their glasses softly 
 on the table without raising them to their 
 lips a profound silence fell on them all. Jon- 
 quille stood with one hand on the back of her 
 chair, the other resting on her hip, and with a 
 careless gesture, which was natural to her and 
 not the least affected, she threw back her curls 
 and began, It was a quaint song, sung in 
 a minor key to a half -improvised air, which 
 was well suited to the dreamy words of love 
 and longing 
 
 ' My heart would seek my love, 
 Fly to her, fly, white dove, 
 Bear her from me a flower, 
 A leaf from my sad bower, 
 Tell her my poor heart grieves, 
 And wet with tears these leaves, 
 Tell her my plaint, white dove, 
 Tell it, my own sweet love.' 
 
 It was just an artless lamentation, and Jon- 
 quille's voice was quite uncultivated, but it had re- 
 markably clear, metallic, high notes, and soft, rich 
 low notes like an organ ; between the extremes
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 77 
 
 her voice had some indifferent tones which she, 
 with her love of contrast, skilfully avoided. 
 The irregular music of the ballad, unhindered by 
 rules of time and harmony, was exactly suited 
 to Jonquille's voice. Now she quickened the 
 rhythm and now slackened it, as she chose ; she 
 repeated the leading phrase of the melody with 
 every variety of expression, sometimes soaring 
 up in a clear, high note, and again giving along, 
 drawn-out tone like a wail. Then the touching 
 melody came back, and the music seemed to 
 hover for a moment and then die away in a long 
 note that lingered on the lips of the singer and 
 then floated away, while she seemed to follow it 
 with eye and gesture till, like the last vibration 
 of a crystal vase, it ceased; yet no one could say 
 the exact moment when the voice was silent. 
 Manuel, bending towards Jonquille, drunk in the 
 music which moved him strangely. 
 
 'Encore,' he said in a low voice when the last 
 echo had died away. 
 
 ' Encore, encore !' cried the others ; ' Jonquille. 
 irive us ao-ain the sono- of the white piireon.' 
 
 o o o \~ o 
 
 lUit she shook her head. 
 
 ' Another time, I am tired,' she said, and she 
 sat down with her hands folded on her knees and
 
 78 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 a dreamy look in her eyes. While she sang she 
 had given herself up entirely to the tumult of 
 feeling which the song roused in her, and which 
 
 O O 7 
 
 was too vague and undefined for words. 
 
 After a few minutes she roused herself and 
 stood up again to sing, and without any preamble 
 began the following old-fashioned song, one of 
 those ballads which are out of date now 
 
 ' Michael came courting Christine one day ; 
 Ah ha ! Ah ha ! He went courting away, 
 'Twas Christmas-tide.' 
 
 The words were nothing and the music was 
 everything, yet Jonquille contrived to throw 
 such charm into the commonplace words of the 
 song, the mocking ' Ah ha ! ' was so fresh and 
 ringing, and she enjoyed the song herself so 
 much, that her gaiety soon became infectious. 
 As soon as the mocking ' Ah ha ! ' began, every 
 one threw himself back in his chair with peals of 
 laughter. 
 
 How well Jonquille contrived to bring out 
 the little drama of the song ; she put so much 
 expression into the music, the gestures, and the 
 words, and when she came to the catastrophe, 
 she lingered on the notes, and sang the lover's 
 sliockmo; fate in a solemn voice 
 
 O
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 79 
 
 ' But she sent him off with mocking and laughter, 
 And he was so mad he jumped into the water.' 
 
 Then after a pause of horror, she suddenly 
 raised her head and smiling, sang in a gay, 
 clear voice 
 
 ' And would have died, 
 But they fished him out with a hook and pole.' 
 
 No words can give the effect of the music, 
 but Jonquille's hearers, who had heard her sing 
 it fifty times before, always waited impatiently 
 for the well-known passage. You might have 
 read on their faces every shade of feeling raised 
 by Jonquille ; their lips moved, noiselessly 
 following the words ; they knew that this tragic 
 story had a happy ending, and yet, when Jon- 
 quille, after keeping them in suspense, deigned 
 to let them know that Michael was fished out of 
 the water, they showed the relief it gave their 
 feelings in a loud burst of laughter. They were 
 certainly an audience easily moved, but even 
 more critical listeners might have been gratified 
 by Jonquille's unstudied gestures and effects, 
 and pure, flexible voice. 
 
 Then putting her fingers to her lips to ask for 
 silence, she sang, with a little toss of her head
 
 8o THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' He had lost his heart, but he found it whole 
 
 And his wits beside. 
 
 For the icy bath had cooled his ardour ; 
 His love was gone, his heart grown harder. 
 " I'm cured," he cried.' 
 
 The lads winked at each other now, for they 
 knew what was coming 
 
 ' But when he grew cold then she grew hot 
 
 And changed her mind ; 
 While he waxed ruddy and stouter got, 
 She paled and pined.' 
 
 Then with a little mischievous smile she con- 
 tinued 
 
 ' The ruddier he, the paler she, 
 
 For love forlorn, 
 
 Now nobody comes my lover to be, 
 Oh ! sad, sad morn.' 
 
 The whole band could not help joining in and 
 humming the air. But now Jonquille, with the 
 dramatic instinct which Nature has given to all 
 women, hastened to the conclusion 
 
 ' Michael at last by pity was moved, 
 He could not see the girl he loved 
 
 Grow thin and die. 
 He woo'd her again, 'twas Easter-tide, 
 And now she's a blushing, bonny bride ; 
 
 Oh, tell me why 
 Lovers are fools, noAV hot now cold ? '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 81 
 
 And here the smugglers felt that the moment 
 had come to give vent to their enthusiasm by 
 joining in the chorus which was on the tips of 
 their tongues 
 
 ' Oh, tell me why 
 
 Lovers are fools, now hot now cold 1 
 When lasses are coy, then lads grow bold, 
 Oh, tell me why 1 ' 
 
 How many times, indeed, had they not asked 
 the same question and laughed over it ? Jonquille 
 sang them this song at least once a week, and 
 they were never tired of it. 
 
 Manuel also was laughing like a boy ; he did 
 not care to check himself, but allowed the young 
 enchantress to bring before him visions now sad, 
 now wild, now comic, now pathetic, as the fancy 
 took her. His nature, though not easily mastered 
 by force, was fresh and open to new impressions, 
 and had surrendered to the charmer; the subtle 
 magic power of song had conquered him. There 
 was only one thing he longed for to hear this 
 voice again. 
 
 Jonquille got up from her seat, and picking 
 up the two corners of her apron, went and 
 stood before Constant Loison. with her head 
 
 turned aside. 
 
 o
 
 82 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' For Pierre/ she said shortly. 
 
 Two five-franc pieces at once fell jingling into 
 her apron. 
 
 ' That is too much,' said Jonquille, putting 
 one piece back into the too generous donor's 
 hand. 
 
 Constant pretended to refuse it, but at last 
 slipped it into his pocket. 
 
 Manuel frowned. ' Was it then for the sake 
 of money that she sang so well ? ' 
 
 Jonquille went round to each of the smugglers 
 in turn, but always turned her head aside, as if 
 she did not care to observe how much coin fell 
 into her apron. 
 
 She always repeated the words ' For Pierre,' 
 but she never said ' Thank you.' This tithe 
 seemed to be her due ; and no princess ac- 
 cepting some offering from her humble subjects 
 ever showed greater pride. In accepting or 
 rather claiming this she seemed to be giving 
 instead of receiving a favour. When she was 
 drawing near Manuel, he pulled out of his 
 pocket a tiny piece of silver only half a franc : 
 it was all he had till pay-day came round. 
 He turned it about in his fingers, angry at 
 his poverty ; as Jonquille sold her songs he
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 83 
 
 would have liked to pay her in royal fashion, 
 and to have the right to humble the pride 
 of this singer, and to break the spell against 
 which he was already rebelling. But half a 
 franc she would think him stingy ! All 
 the while she was coming nearer. At last, 
 ashamed and angry that he was so pen- 
 niless, he abruptly offered his small bit of 
 silver. 
 
 ' I don't want anything from you,' she said, 
 without even glancing to see whether it was a 
 sou or a five-franc piece, and she passed on. 
 
 Manuel's first impulse was to get up, to run 
 after her, to force her to take his money. 
 But half a franc she would laugh at him. 
 So he remained riveted to his chair, feeling 
 humiliated and powerless in his anger. 
 
 Jonquille finished her collection, and emptied 
 her apron into a little basket which stood on the 
 table. Her mother, still standing on the thres- 
 hold, watched her movements with a covetous 
 eye. 
 
 ' You have got a nice little sum,' she whispered, 
 bending down to her daughter. ' You. can earn 
 money with little trouble.' 
 
 'Do you think so,' said Jonquille bitterly:
 
 84 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' I would rather hoe potatoes than beg like this 
 
 But it is for Pierre/ she added in a low 
 
 voice. 
 
 ' What does she do with all that money ? 
 asked Manuel roughly, turning to his neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 ' Oh, she spends it all on her brother. Why, 
 fancy, the doctor charges five francs to come 
 here ! and he often comes, not that he can do 
 the poor lad much good, but it eases her mind. 
 Then there's medicine to be got for him, and 
 oranges, and books ; and they say that Mother 
 Salome makes Jonquille pay for every chicken 
 she roasts for him. He never lacks anything, 
 and is nursed like a prince, but the money 
 flies. Did you really suppose that Jouquille 
 was saving up for herself ? ' 
 
 Manuel was prevented answering, for Constant 
 stood up and pulled out his watch, saying in a 
 solemn voice : ' It is time to start.' 
 
 Every one rose and drank a last glass. 
 
 ' Come, Jonquille,' they said, ' give us our 
 song,' and she began Beranger's verses, which 
 the artist, her godfather, had once taught her 
 
 ' Midnight has struck, come boys be steady, 
 Follow me, bales and pack-mules are ready,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 85 
 
 Tread with sure foot, of ambush beware, 
 Pistols be loaded, guns let us bear ; 
 Custom-House men muster around, 
 Bullets are cheap and aim can be found.' 
 
 While the whole band joined in a chorus. 
 Manuel was struck by the threatening looks on 
 their faces seen in the dim light ; their eyes 
 sparkled in the gloom. Jonquille went on 
 
 'Brave are we, comrades, merry and bold. 
 Gladly our sweethearts handle the gold, 
 The while we recount adventures of daring 
 And plunder and fame that every man's sharing.' 
 
 Here her eyes met Manuel's, and she grew 
 a fiery red, but lifted her head proudly and 
 sang in a still clearer voice 
 
 ' Oh little we care for rain and snow, 
 But up the mountains we climbing go 
 Till the frontier crossed we dare to sleep 
 Lulled by the torrent so wild and deep.' 
 
 And here the voices of the smugglers joined 
 in, more loud than tuneful, but ringing out with 
 wild energy, filling the room with their savage, 
 defiant music 
 
 ' Let guards on the frontier all beware ; 
 We are the winners of hearts and coin ; 
 The lasses love us, we've choice of fair, 
 And the lads are all agog to join.'
 
 86 
 
 The wave of enthusiasm carried Manuel along 
 with it. He joined in the chorus with all his 
 strength, beating time with his foot and im- 
 patient to be off. Jonquille's voice penetrated 
 his very marrow. 
 
 'They are worked up to a fine pitch now/ 
 thought Constant. ' That girl's voice is better 
 than champagne ; it excites their heads without 
 making their legs unsteady,' then he added aloud, 
 ' Come boys time to start lade the pack-mules, 
 as the song says.' 
 
 Mother Salome, pulling a key out of her 
 pocket, opened a dark cupboard, where several 
 boxes were piled one upon another. Constant 
 looked with fond care at these goods, which 
 belonged to him, and were going to be exposed 
 to a thousand risks. He felt them and made 
 sure that the lids were properly fastened, then 
 he gazed at them silently, as if he were mentally 
 wishing them a safe journey. 
 
 ' Be prudent, boys/ he said at last ; ' and if 
 they try to stop you, fight like lions. Ah ! if it 
 were not for this wretched leo- I would Q-Q too.' 
 
 o' o 
 
 If he had been able he would really have 
 started, for his anxieties as trader now over- 
 powered his instinct of self-preservation. Manuel
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 87 
 
 lifted a box on to his shoulder, and found it no 
 weight for him. 
 
 ' You will not say so in half an hour,' said 
 Firmin. 
 
 The merchandise consisted of watches and 
 tobacco. Each smuggler fastened his burden 
 on with a strap which could be undone in a 
 moment in case it was necessary to fly and 
 leave the baggage behind. Each one took 
 also a stout stick, long and knotty, and shod 
 with a sharp iron point, and a loaded pistol, 
 which was slung like a travelling flask. Manuel 
 alone had no firearms. 
 
 ' Never mind ; we are not likely to want them 
 to-night ; it isn't often we exchange shots,' said 
 Firmin. 'To-morrow we'll get you a weapon, at 
 vour own cost, of course, but to-night a cudgel 
 will be enough.' 
 
 Constant examined the men carefully, 1 tuck- 
 ling a strap here, and looking at a stick there. 
 
 ' Are you sure,' said he, feeling the pistols 
 with respectful prudence, ' that they are not 
 at full cock? Take care of that. An accident 
 happens so easily ; you give a knock, and the 
 pistol goes off, and the shot lodges in your 
 leo-.s or vour neighbour's, and then he rolls
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 down the river with his bale. Come, are you 
 all ready ? Where is Jonquille ? ' 
 
 She had gone upstairs to say good-bye to 
 Pierre and to lock up the money she had earned. 
 She knew very well that her mother would not 
 scruple to take some of it if she left it to her 
 tender care. She soon came down with a shawl 
 wrapped round her head and shoulders ; they 
 were waiting for her in the yard, and as soon as 
 she appeared, a silent procession was formed 
 which, passing round the garden, went down 
 towards the river. There was one spot where 
 the eddy from the river was less felt and allowed 
 of a ferry, and here a large boat was fastened to 
 a great iron nail in the rock. The night was 
 dark, but the blue-black sky was studded with 
 stars, which the rippling water reflected here 
 and there and seemed to bear away on its 
 stream. Jonquille' s lithe figure could just be 
 distinguished as she stood up in the centre of 
 the boat while her passengers were all seated. 
 She felt for the moorings with both hands, 
 unfastened the chain and took hold of the oars. 
 Great rocks stood out of the water, though it 
 was deep here, but Jonquille seemed to guess 
 where they were in the darkness, and with a
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 89 
 
 stroke of her oar kept off them. In three 
 minutes they had reached the other side. The 
 smugglers landed quietly ; and as they passed 
 by Jonquille she bid them good-bye with a 
 gesture ; but when Manuel, who was the last, 
 went by, she bent towards him and whispered, 
 ' Keep up your spirits, and good luck to you.' 
 
 ' Thank you,' he answered in a low voice. 
 
 Jonquille, left alone, sat in the boat watching 
 the long, dark procession by the riverside dis- 
 appearing in the gloom. 
 
 ' In an hour's time,' she thought, ' if the top 
 of the ravine is not guarded, they won't want 
 me any longer.' 
 
 Sometimes, when they found themselves ob- 
 served, they fell back in good order on the river 
 and got into the boat which was waiting for them. 
 
 Jonquille feared neither solitude nor dark- 
 ness ; at the least alarm she could push off into 
 deep water ; but what need she be afraid of on 
 this lonely shore where only smugglers came ? 
 Lying back on the seat in a careless attitude 
 and letting her hand dip in the water, which 
 flowed through her fingers, she watched the 
 stars, the sombre outline of the cliffs, and the 
 rippling water. She loved these lonely hours,
 
 90 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 this complete liberty. Her thoughts were not 
 fixed on anything, but she let vague memories 
 float through her mind ; without caring to 
 define them, she allowed them idly to pass as in 
 a mist, and to join themselves to still vaguer 
 ideas her visions of the future. 
 
 How deep and mysterious the water seemed. 
 The stars were clearly reflected on the dark 
 surface of the quiet bay. 
 
 Jonquille remembered how one evening, when 
 she was a little girl, she refused to believe 
 that the two lamps, which were burning peace- 
 fully in the bed of the stream, were only re- 
 flections of the lights which shone each night in 
 the sky above. She had seized an oar to try 
 ' and fish up the stars,' and had only succeeded 
 in quenching them in the troubled waters. She 
 smiled now at her childish fancy, and yet, with- 
 out thinking, she stretched out her hand towards 
 the bright reflection. 
 
 Jonquille was very ignorant ; she often 
 wondered what kept the stars up there, and 
 seeino; fallmQ- stars sometimes on clear August 
 
 o o o 
 
 nights, she thought that some accident had 
 shaken out the nail from which hung the little 
 lamp.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 91 
 
 ' If I were only just under it where it falls 
 with my apron spread out, I would catch it 
 quite gently and not let it go out. What does 
 a star look like when you see it close ? Perhaps 
 if one went straight to Paradise, as the priests 
 and good Sisters of Charity do, one might come 
 across the stars on one's \vay thither ; but 
 smugglers are obliged to go to purgatory, and 
 even to stay there a long time, I am told.' 
 
 Her thoughts naturally passed on to Manuel 
 Vincent. Would he find the kind of life he 
 wanted among the smugglers ? Would he not 
 find that even smuggling, with its risks and its 
 adventures by night, had also its monotonous 
 routine of work ? Perhaps he might be dis- 
 appointed with it and go back some day to the 
 old workshop. ' But he won't find any one there 
 to sing to him as I do,' thought Jonquille 
 proudly. She began gently to hum a song, with 
 her chin resting on her hand, and her eyes still 
 fixed on the little dark bay where the stars 
 sparkled in the water. The artist had taught 
 her a number of songs, chiefly those by Beranger, 
 and these songs which she had learnt were her 
 prayer-book and her treasury of knowledge. In 
 them she had found all sorts of suggestive ideas.
 
 92 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 which her little imaginative brain had developed 
 after her own fashion. Her poet having taught 
 
 her that 
 
 Our star 
 Kules our destiny and shines in the sky, 
 
 and that falling stars are lives whose light is 
 quenched, Jonquille had built a little theory of 
 her own on this foundation. Seeking for the 
 star which ruled her destiny she had found it in 
 the dancing, fitful, and yet faithful light which 
 was reflected each night in the river, near the 
 shore. Its bluish light, which was like that of a 
 will-o'-the-wisp, was blended with all Jonquille's 
 memories, with all the strange adventures by 
 night which formed a large part of her strange 
 life. Another star, brighter, and with a less 
 twinkling, more steadfast light, was a planet. 
 Jonquille, who understood nothing about the 
 motions of the heavenly bodies, was surprised to 
 see it gradually wander farther from her star, 
 disappear at last, and yet always return after a 
 time to its companion. Instinctively she felt 
 that it represented to her all those who, for a 
 time, had mingled in her life. Now she liked to 
 fancy that it was Manuel's special star. He 
 would do as others had done, travel by her side
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 93 
 
 a little while across this mysterious bay which 
 represented her life, then he would pass beyond 
 to travel down the unknown river. 
 
 Suddenly a shadow crossed the water, and 
 Manuel's star seemed to quiver and then dis- 
 appear. Jonquille raised her eyes, trembling, 
 and saw a little cloud, like a gray network 
 spread in the sky above her head ; and the 
 sparkling light of sky and water were hidden by 
 this veil of cloud. 
 
 ' Something has happened to him' whispered 
 Jonquille to herself, seizing the oars to be ready 
 to row at once and give help if it were needed. 
 
 The curfew bell from the neighbouring 
 village just then rang out suddenly, and the 
 waves of vibrating air were felt rather than 
 heard above the noise of the weir, and made 
 Jonquille shiver while she listened. 
 
 " It is quite an hour since they started,' she 
 said to herself; 'they will have got over the 
 worst part of the road. Am I going to get into 
 a fright about a lad whom I don't know from 
 Adam or Eve, and who is quite capable of 
 taking care of himself? If the star went out it 
 was because there was no more oil ; it has gone 
 to bed ; and that's what 1 shall do too.'
 
 94 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Then stooping over the edge of the boat, she 
 kissed her hand to her own steadfast star, which 
 had not been hidden by the cloud, and which 
 would continue to sparkle and tremble in the 
 water till dawn, like a timid bather in the 
 rippling waves. A moment after Jonquille was 
 fastening her boat to the shore and was climbing 
 with light step up to the house. 
 
 There was a lamp burning behind the little 
 window of the kitchen, but the upper floor was 
 dark. The young girl hastily pushed the half- 
 open door, and found Constant Loison waiting in 
 the passage, with his hat on his head ; he was 
 drawing patterns on the flags with his stick, 
 while Mother Salome seemed to watch his evi- 
 dent impatience with amusement. 
 
 With her claw-like hand she was shading her 
 eyes from the yellow, flickering light of a little 
 lamp hanging on the wall, with a copper reflec- 
 tor behind it ; she did this less to protect herself 
 from the glare than to be able to watch her late 
 lingering guest at her ease. For the last half 
 hour he had been walking up and down the pas- 
 sage and could not make up his mind to go. 
 
 ' At last,' he said, when he saw Jonquille 
 appear. He put his hand on her shoulder in
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 95 
 
 his eagerness, but she shook him off roughly. 
 ' What were you about all alone down there ? 
 If I could have got another boat I would have 
 come to join you.' 
 
 ' You would have spoilt my pleasure,' she an- 
 swered, trying to pass behind him and to reach 
 the staircase. But he blocked her way with his 
 outstretched arms. 
 
 'Your pleasure ? What do you mean ? 
 Weren't you alone ? ' 
 
 ' Of course I was ; but I like that ; better be 
 alone than in bad company. Good -night, Mr. 
 Loison ; a safe journey to you. My mother and 
 I are going to bed.' 
 
 'Ah! Jonquille, you naughty girl,' sighed 
 Constant, ' have you no heart ? ' 
 
 ' Not a scrap.' 
 
 ' (Jive me a kind, affectionate word ; it will be 
 the first to-day.' 
 
 ' 1 have already wished vou o;ood-iiio-ht.' 
 
 */ * O O 
 
 ' But think what a long way home it is, and 
 alone on such a dark ni<>-ht.' 
 
 O 
 
 ' That's true. Mother, lend him our lantern.' 
 1 1 shall return in a few days, Jonquillr.' 
 ' You must go home before you can return. 
 Good-night, Mr. Loison, o-ood-ni^ht.'
 
 96 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 She laughed and showed her white teeth be- 
 tween her ruddy lips ; she was leaning against 
 the old wall, with her two hands clasped behind 
 her head, and looked provokingly pretty and 
 saucy ; she was so young and graceful and 
 piquant, and withal had just a touch of untamed 
 wildness about her all which made Constant 
 feel that he was completely losing his senses. 
 The wide sleeves of her linen jacket, open 
 to the elbow, showed her firm, round arms, 
 bronzed by exposure, and Jonquille's head leant 
 against them in a sleepy attitude ; indeed, she 
 pretended to be falling asleep as she stood there, 
 and Constant vainly tried to keep up the con- 
 versation. 
 
 ' Jonquille, if you would only listen to me.' 
 
 But at last she got really impatient, and let- 
 ting her arms fall, looked at him angrily. 
 
 ' But that is just what I won't do,' she said. 
 ' It's not the thing -' and here she suddenly 
 slipped past him, and with two bounds was up 
 the stairs. A door was softly opened, then 
 closed, and the key turned in the lock. The 
 discomfited lover turned sharply to the mother. 
 
 ' Is this the way you promised to help me ? ' 
 he said roughly. ' Couldn't you put in a word
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 97 
 
 for me, instead of standing out there like an old 
 stick ? ' 
 
 Mother Salome was not pleased with this 
 comparison, and frowned, but she swallowed the 
 affront silently ; the only person she allowed 
 herself to abuse was her daughter, for she knew 
 that there were a hundred other more efficacious 
 ways of punishing the people who annoyed her. 
 Mother Salome had no great weakness for Con- 
 stant ; remembering her young days she still 
 retained a preference for handsome lads, and 
 Jonquille's admirer certainly could not claim to 
 be classed as one of these. But he was well off ; 
 that was in his favour. It's true that he was 
 not lavish with his money, but perhaps that was 
 as well that is, for a husband ; but for a sweet- 
 heart no, it was quite a mistake. Still she 
 could not send him away altogether. 
 
 ' The child is tired,' said the hostess. ' She 
 has been trotting about all day, and I don't care 
 to have her rest cut short when she has well 
 earned it. But she likes you, Mr. Constant ; 
 don't be vexed about it; these young creatures 
 have their whims. It was only the other day 
 she was speaking up for you.' 
 
 ' Indeed, Mother Salome ; tell me what it was.' 
 
 H
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' Well, I said to her, <: His moustache is red ; " 
 " Red," said she ; " how can you say that ; it's as 
 scarlet as a lobster ! that's what it is ! " 
 
 Constant involuntarily felt for the moustache 
 which was his pride, and said in a low voice, ' So 
 you call that speaking up for me ? ' 
 
 'Ha! my boy,' thought Mother Salome, 'I 
 have paid you out now for your old stick ; a 
 lobster's as good as that.' 
 
 'Don't trouble yourself don't trouble your- 
 self/ she repeated, pushing him gently towards 
 the door. ' If the child takes a fancy to you, she 
 will soon find out that you are handsome ; they 
 say that love is blind. Good-night, good-night ; 
 remember me kindly to your people Take 
 care where you step ; an accident comes quicker 
 than a legacy. A man was almost killed near 
 the ironworks, where the path has given way, 
 and last night only I dreamt of cats and w T et 
 sheets. Now, then, good-bye.' 
 
 Having cheered him up with these words she 
 shut the door upon him, bolted it, and put out 
 the lamp at once, for oil is dear, and one can 
 feel one's way to bed in the dark. Then seeing 
 by a ray of light, which fell on the garden fence, 
 that Jonquille's candle was still burning, Mother
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 99 
 
 Salome took a stick and knocked three times on 
 the ceiling by way of curfew. The light was at 
 once put out, and the lonely house in that wild 
 gorge slept peacefully to the noise of the rushing 
 waters.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 IT must be confessed that Jonquille had thought 
 more of Manuel on that evening than Manuel of 
 Jonquille. While she, sitting quietly in the boat, 
 had been anxious about the risks he ran, he was 
 slowly following the party, which advanced in 
 single file, and was quite absorbed by the dangers 
 of the path, and by an ardent desire to prove 
 himself worthy in this first trial. The rocky 
 ravine up which he was climbing was as steep as 
 a roof, rugged and choked with shrubs and climb- 
 ing plants, and had a cleft in it where the bare 
 rock was exposed. Each man, bending under 
 his load, put his foot carefully on the uneven 
 step just quitted by another foot, and leaning on 
 his stick hoisted himself to a higher shelf of 
 rock. They went slowly and noiselessly up the 
 zigzag. Their guide knew by heart every peril 
 of this giddy ladder he knew where the surest
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 101 
 
 footholds were, and went from right to left 
 guiding surely and without hesitation the silent 
 band which followed in his steps. 
 
 At the end of ten minutes the word to halt 
 was given in a low whisper, which passed from 
 one to another, and each one stopped short, 
 driving his stick into the ground. Manuel was 
 not sorry to pause and take breath : excitement 
 made his heart beat, and his breath was shorter 
 than usual. Taking off his hat he wiped his 
 moist forehead with the back of his hand. The 
 night was cool and the air fresh, but it was a 
 steep climb, and had required great exertion ; the 
 tension on the muscles of the feet and legs had 
 been doubled by the precarious footing, and by 
 the rolling stones and the narrow footholds which 
 
 o 
 
 obliged the climber to use all his power and skill. 
 Manuel did not observe that his motionless com- 
 panions all turned their faces towards the moun- 
 tain side, and leanino; on his stick he bent for- 
 
 O 
 
 ward to look back on the path lie had left behind. 
 Un the riu'ht and left the outlines of the rocks 
 
 O 
 
 were clearly marked; they were crowned by 
 shrubs whose interlaced boughs made a black, in- 
 
 o 
 
 tricate tracing. Down below the dark, funnel- 
 shaped ravine irrew narrower, and at the verv 
 
 1 O ^
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 bottom ran the black, sinister -looking, wild 
 waters, sparkling here and there. Manuel drew 
 back suddenly, feeling sick and blind and dizzy ; 
 he had almost wanted to throw himself down 
 into the abyss. He had usually a steady head, 
 but now he fancied that he stood on the edge of 
 a deep well. It had been a surprise to him to 
 see the wall of the ravine going straight down 
 like a chimney into the river, for the zigzags had 
 deceived him into thinking that he had gone in 
 a different direction. The noise of a pebble, 
 rolling down and rebounding from the rocks, 
 
 O O 
 
 roused him from his stupor. He listened to it as it 
 rattled down faster and faster till the last splash 
 was almost lost in the depth below. ' Take care 
 how you step, my lad,' he said to himself, with 
 a slight shiver ; ' one false step, and you would 
 roll straight down into the water.' 
 
 They began their march again in single file. 
 As the path ascended it became more rugged ; 
 there were fewer shrubs, for the surface soil had 
 been carried away, and only bare rock left. By 
 the faint starlight great masses of rock could be 
 seen but only dimly, and the foot could hardly 
 trust to the guidance of the eye. Each projec- 
 tion threw a deep shadow, which exaggerated the
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 103 
 
 size of the rocky shelves ; an J so deceptive was 
 the effect that it made them seem like the steps of 
 a staircase. Manuel no longer looked about him, 
 but leaning towards the bank he concentrated all 
 his attention on the movements of the man in 
 front of him. As generally happens in such 
 cases, the gravity of the situation absorbed all his 
 faculties and drove out fear. His whole being- 
 
 o 
 
 seemed to be taken up in looking with watchful 
 eyes, and stepping with mechanical precision in 
 the footsteps before him. He seemed to have 
 become a machine in his movements, and his very 
 breathing appeared automatic. The strap which 
 fastened his burden was cutting his shoulder, but 
 he never thought of loosening the buckle, so 
 absorbed was he in watching the movements of 
 the man in front of him, and imitating them 
 like a shadow. All at once Firmin, who was be- 
 hind Manuel, and brought up the rear, began 
 humming a well-known air, 'J>y Moonlight.' or 
 ' Ah vous dirai-je, Maman ; ' and this fragment 
 of song, which showed a mind quite at ease, 
 awoke Manuel from his half-dreamy, half-auto- 
 matic state. lie was ashamed of having been so 
 absorbed in a position of which he had probably 
 exa operated the danovr. He straightened him-
 
 io4 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 self and looked back resolutely, and this time he 
 was no longer troubled by dizziness. 
 
 The word to halt was again passed along the 
 men, and they paused to summon up all their 
 strength for the last bit of work against the 
 collar, which was the stiffest of all. A steep 
 wall forty feet high formed the head of the 
 ravine. Two irregular rocky cornices ran ob- 
 liquely across it and divided it, as it were, into 
 three stories, each one forming a narrow ledge, 
 which afforded a foothold. A few deeply-hewn 
 steps in the rock would have been enough to make 
 this an easy ascent ; but any such well-defined 
 marks would have attracted the attention of the 
 Excisemen, who considered this wall insurmount- 
 able, and did not even take the trouble to guard 
 it. The smugglers had only here and there 
 driven some iron cramps into the rock, where 
 they were hidden by tufts of grass, and these 
 cramps afforded a hold to hands and feet by 
 turns. 
 
 As the weight of a bale on the back would 
 have made the required aerial gymnastics still 
 more dangerous, each man left his burden at the 
 foot of the rock. The guide climbed first ; he 
 had been up this way a hundred times, and in a
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 105 
 
 moment had reached the lower cornice ; now 
 grasping an iron cramp with one hand, he bent 
 down and seized the end of his stick, which was 
 handed up to him, and to which his bale was 
 securely fastened. A second smuggler did the 
 same thing, and then a third. Manuel, who was 
 by nature a climber, and had been to the top of 
 the highest firs, found no difficulty when his 
 turn came. Firmin Mitou, who brought up the 
 rear, handed up his stick to Manuel before going 
 up himself. In less than five minutes all the 
 men were standing together on the cornice, 
 taking breath before ascending the second stair. 
 
 Manuel's heart beat fast, but no longer from 
 fear ; it was the excitement of danger which 
 made it throb. The young man stood motion- 
 less, his forehead leaning against the rock, the 
 muscles of his legs were strained and quivering, 
 his blood flowed faster, he felt distinctly the 
 pulses of his temples beating. His mind was 
 clear, he knew the abyss was behind him, and 
 was coolly calculating the risks before him, and 
 feeling with his hand for some hole where ho 
 
 O 
 
 could rest his foot before reaching the second 
 cramp. A hanging bramble might, ho thought, 
 catch in his blouso ; he therefore pulled out liN
 
 106 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 knife, and opened it with his teeth, for he dared 
 not let go the other hand from its hold, and cut 
 off the branch. 
 
 ' Come on,' said the guide in a low voice, and 
 the ascent was again made in the same manner ; 
 the orderly movements showing long practice. 
 All at once, when the third smuggler had reached 
 the cornice, and his stick was being handed up 
 to him, the bale, either from being too heavy or 
 badly strapped on, got loose just as the stick was 
 describing a curve through the air over Manuel's 
 head. The man uttered an oath ; all his night's 
 labour was lost ; but Manuel stretched out his 
 arm and caught the bale in the air. This sudden 
 movement made him lose his balance and fall 
 backwards ; luckily his left hand still grasped 
 the cramp tenaciously, and his heels were caught 
 by a rough bit of rock. He vibrated for several 
 seconds above the vawnino; chasm, and then bv 
 
 i/O / 
 
 a vigorous effort of the back and wrist he re- 
 covered his upright position. He had not 
 littered a single cry of terror during this awful 
 moment, but he trembled from head to foot like 
 a tense string which has been struck violently. 
 Having got a sure footing on the cornice he 
 handed the bale to its owner.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 107 
 
 ' Much obliged/ said the latter. 
 
 Firmiu Mitou growled out a word of approval ; 
 his esteem for the new comrade had grown an 
 ell. Manuel felt extremely proud for a minute, 
 but when he turned towards Firmin, he saw that 
 the latter, just as if he were on the high road, 
 was calmly lighting his pipe, which had gone out, 
 though it had never left its accustomed corner in 
 his mouth. This cool behaviour, which was not 
 bravado, showed Manuel what a gulf there was 
 between his kind of courage and Firmin's, and 
 it lessened his proud satisfaction. 
 
 There was one more stair to mount, one more 
 effort to make, and then men and bales, the one 
 hoisting the other, readied the top of the cliff 
 safe and sound, and found themselves on a grassy 
 plot on the edge of the forest. A flask was 
 handed round, and they then divided into two 
 bands, which for greater safety were to take 
 different paths through the wood, and meet at 
 the neighbouring village. 
 
 Manuel and three other smuo-o-lers plunged in 
 
 Oo 1 O 
 
 among the trees ; here it was gloomy and close 
 and stifling. The dim outline of the bushes by 
 the roadside looked like spies crouching down 
 to watch, and every time a dry branch snapped
 
 io8 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 beneath his feet, Manuel expected to see a figure 
 rise up suddenly to seize him. All at once a cry 
 was heard some thirty yards behind. 
 
 1 Hollo ! hollo ! stop ! ' 
 
 ' It's the Excisemen ! ' whispered one of the 
 lads in Manuel's ear. ' Kun ! ' 
 
 They all began to run, but the cries came nearer. 
 
 ' We are done for,' said the leader of the band, 
 stopping. ' Down with the bales.' 
 
 Each one threw off his burden, while Manuel, 
 indignant at this cowardly flight, fixed his flash- 
 ing eyes on them. 
 
 ' Aren't you ashamed of yourselves ? ' he said, 
 clenching his teeth. ' Take up your bales and 
 run away ; / will stay and keep off the Excise- 
 men for five minutes.' 
 
 He then planted himself in the middle of the 
 path, and whirled his cudgel round his head. A 
 dark figure appeared among the trees calling out 
 ' Halt ! ' in an imperious voice, and then rushed 
 upon Manuel. The latter set himself free with a 
 sudden jerk of the shoulders, and seizing the man 
 by the collar, held him at arm's length and shook 
 him with all his might. 
 
 ' Gently, gently ! ' cried the smuggler, burst- 
 ing into a laugh.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 109 
 
 It was Firmin's voice, arid Manuel left oft' 
 shaking him, but still kept a firm grip on his 
 shoulder, and looked suspiciously at him. 
 
 ' Be quiet, then ; let me go ! ' cried Firmin. 
 ' It was all a sham ; do you understand ? Before 
 dubbing you a knight, we wanted to see if you 
 would take to your heels in a row ; but you stood 
 the trial well. Here are our comrades coming- 
 back.' 
 
 The three other smugglers now came up laugh- 
 ing. They made fun of Manuel for having been 
 taken in, but they were really pleased with him. 
 In order to make up for lost time they broke into 
 a run, which brought them in less than a quarter 
 of an hour to a hamlet near. 
 
 A light was shining behind the ground-floor 
 shutters of a low cottage, which stood a little 
 back from the road, with a small garden in front. 
 A large dog left its kennel, and came without 
 barking to sniff round the legs of the newcomers. 
 
 Firmin coughed and scratched the door, which 
 was immediately opened, and the whole band 
 went in. 
 
 They found the first detachment of their part v 
 already arrived, and sitting in groups in tin- large 
 badly-lit room, which was half kitchen, half shop.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 The master of the house greeted the newcomers 
 warmly. He was a wretched - looking little 
 creature, wearing a cloth cap, with a long tassel 
 hanging down over his ear. Firmin, who was 
 always ready to air his oratorical talent, began 
 describing the trial through which Manuel had 
 been put, and the admirable manner in which he 
 had stood it. The others shrugged their shoulders ; 
 they had done better than that on their outset ; 
 but they were willing to drink the health of the 
 new comrade. 
 
 Time was hurrying on, and the night's work 
 was not yet finished, except for those who lived 
 in this hamlet, and left their bales of tobacco 
 with their host the grocer. Some of the others 
 had to deliver their goods in a village farther off. 
 Among these were Firmin and Manuel, who, 
 laden with some dozens of watches, had to trudge 
 nine miles farther. They started at midnight. 
 "When they had walked some distance they met 
 a spring cart, and the driver kindly offered them 
 a lift ; he was a good fellow, rather simple- 
 minded ; Firmin knew him well, and beguiled 
 the way with marvellous tales which had never 
 found such an uncritical audience. 
 
 Manuel was at first amused, but the narrator's
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER in 
 
 voice was soon lost to him in a sort of thick mist 
 which became a deep sleep. After an hour he 
 was roughly aroused by his companion. They 
 had to leave the cart and take a path across the 
 woods which would bring them to their destina- 
 tion. Manuel had been so sound asleep that 
 even, after walking for twenty minutes, he could 
 not feel sure that he was quite awake. His 
 benumbed faculties were still floating in a dim 
 region where all the events of the night were 
 mingled in strange confusion. 
 
 The echo of Jonquille's songs was still ringing 
 in his ears. Although the country he was walk- 
 ing through was quite flat, he fancied he was 
 still climbing up a steep ravine, and lifted his 
 feet with a great effort ; the soles of his boots 
 seemed weighted with lead, his eyelids closed in 
 spite of himself, and even as he walked he fell 
 fast asleep from time to time. Firmin laughed 
 at his drowsiness, and amused himself by slap- 
 ing Manuel's shoulder and making him wake up 
 with a start. 
 
 ' Come, old fellow, rouse up, your conversa- 
 tion is not very amusing ; you are but a baby 
 after all ; fancy a fellow of five feet six not being 
 able to keep awake an hour after midnight !
 
 ii2 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Courage now, pull yourself together. In a 
 quarter of an hour we will put the little dear 
 to bed, tuck him up well, and give him some 
 warm milk.' 
 
 Manuel, annoyed at being made fun of in this 
 way, tried in vain to shake off the torpor which 
 made his legs heavy and his brain dull. The 
 last mile seemed as if it would never end ; his 
 head was full of incoherent ideas produced by 
 this strange state of half -sleep, half -waking 
 dreams. He fancied sometimes that he w y as 
 walking under a leaden extinguisher, which w r as 
 suffocating him and crushing his shoulders, and 
 then he lost the thread of his ideas for a moment 
 and feebly tried to recover it. At last when, by 
 a great effort, he opened his eyes wide, he saw 
 lights dancing round him. 
 
 . ' Why is the town lighted up ? ' he asked in 
 the dull voice of one talking in his sleep. 
 
 ' Hum ; what do you mean ? ' said Firmin. 
 
 Then Manuel woke up completely, and the 
 lights were o;one, and he only saw the loner, long 
 
 O O ' / O " O 
 
 road stretching out before him a dim, pale line 
 between the darkened fields. How many more 
 steps must he take before he reached the 
 goal \
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 113 
 
 ' One, two, three ! one, two, three ! March 
 on, man/ said Firmin, to encourage him. 
 
 At last they reached their destination just as 
 Manuel was dreaming that he was the Wander- 
 ing Jew, and was trying to remember what 
 crime he was expiating. Firmin had a lodging 
 in the little town, and took Manuel to his own 
 room. He persuaded him, with some difficulty, 
 to undress before going to bed, and saw him fall 
 asleep before his head touched the pillow. He 
 then made himself a glass of grog, strong enough 
 to blow you up, as he would say, and began to 
 read Monte Cristo. 
 
 When Manuel at last woke up, he found that 
 he had slept eight hours without moving, with- 
 out even stirring a finger. He rubbed his eyes ; 
 the room, which was strange to him, was empty. 
 He was going to make the well-known query, 
 ' Where am I ? ' when the door opened, and Firmin 
 came in, bringing a coffee-pot and a jug of milk. 
 
 ' All right ? You were snoring away solemnly 
 when I went out this morning. I have delivered 
 the goods, and received payment. You will take 
 the money to Master Constant Loison, and take 
 care you get paid yourself. Xow get up while 
 I go and buy a loaf for our breakfast.' 
 
 i
 
 ii4 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Manuel got up, feeling as fresh as possible ; 
 his limbs had recovered their usual elasticity. 
 When he put his head out of the window he was 
 surprised to find that he was looking down from 
 the third story ; he could not remember how he 
 had ever climbed up three flights of stairs the 
 night before. Firmin was not slow to banter 
 Manuel on his wonderful power of sleeping 
 while he walked ; the youth felt quite ashamed 
 of himself, and tried to make his host understand 
 that he had been wearied out quite as much by 
 the excitements of the day before as by the 
 night march. But he felt it was a sorry end- 
 ing to what had been, on the whole, a glorious 
 adventure, and he resolved to take the first 
 opportunity to show himself in a better light. 
 Firmin advised him to return home by the coach, 
 for fear he should fall asleep on the way, and 
 walk straight into the river. Manuel, who did 
 not admire these jokes as much as the author of 
 them, shook his shoulders impatiently, and went 
 off on foot with a resolute air and wide awake. 
 
 The nine miles he had to travel seemed short 
 to him, for his mind was full of thoughts. When 
 he got home no one was there, and he went off 
 to the factory as usual. The great gate had
 
 THE S WISS SM UGGLER 1 1 5 
 
 been closed an hour ; but Manuel had an ac- 
 quaintance in the engine-room, who let him in 
 by the back door. He slipped in quietly into 
 the workshop and took his place without attract- 
 ing the attention of the foreman, whose back was 
 turned to him. 
 
 Constant Loison raised his eyes ; he looked 
 the picture of a respectable, working watch- 
 maker as he bent over his table, dressed in a 
 blouse and clean linen collar, with a file in his 
 hand, and a microscope fixed to his right eye 
 by a piece of wire round his head. He would 
 not be the sort of fellow to ramble about all 
 night, and sleep all the morning, and lose half a 
 day's work. 
 
 ' What have you been about ? You look 
 as if you had been making a night of it, you 
 rascal.' 
 
 He said this in a low tone, but very distinctly, 
 in order that his left-hand neighbour mio-ht 
 
 O O 
 
 understand that he had nothing to do with 
 
 O 
 
 Manuel's scrapes, and that he did not at all 
 approve of them. 
 
 Manuel did not answer, but as he sat down 
 lie jingled the little bag of five-franc pieces in 
 his pocket.
 
 ii6 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 1 This money is for you/ said lie. 
 
 Constant frowned at him to bid him be quiet, 
 but all the afternoon his thoughts kept hovering 
 about that bag ; he kept calculating how much 
 money there would be, and how pleasant it would 
 be to count it out and hear it ringing on the 
 table, and what a nice addition it would be to his 
 hoard. Ah ! but then there were the smugglers 
 to pay ; yes, there were a good many expenses, 
 and what was the use of money to those careless, 
 extravagant lads, who spent all their earnings in 
 gambling and drinking, and buying yellow ker- 
 chiefs for Jonquille. 
 
 ' Let them leave her alone ; she won't require 
 their presents. / shall give her plenty of ribbons 
 and kerchiefs, but still she must be more careful. 
 Why should she wear a silk kerchief every day ? 
 I have even seen her wear a delicate, primrose- 
 coloured china crape scarf, which must have cost 
 ten francs at least. It may be all very well on 
 Sundays, but on other days a cotton kerchief 
 would be much more suitable/ 
 
 While Constant was having these thoughts, 
 Manuel was working worse than usual, for he 
 was so dreadfully bored. It was a hot, thundery 
 afternoon, and heavy clouds lowered in the sky.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 117 
 
 The close air of the workshop made him sleepy ; 
 he lifted his head from time to time to take a 
 long breath, but how bad was the air he inhaled ; 
 how gladly he would have exchanged it for the 
 breezes of the river, even if an odour of fish 
 lingered on them, as it sometimes does in 
 summer. 
 
 His thoughts were constantly turning to the 
 events of the previous night, and buzzed round 
 Jonquille's home like a swarm of bees round a 
 hive. Without thinking he began to hum the 
 air of the smugglers' song 
 
 ' We are the winners of hearts and coin ; 
 The lasses love us, we've choice of fair, 
 And the lads are all agog to join.' 
 
 ' Silence down there ! ' cried the foreman. 
 ' Who is this song-bird ? ' 
 
 Constant grew pale ; this song might betray 
 something. What an awkward partner Manuel 
 was. 
 
 But silence set in again, and Manuel, vaguely 
 staring at his work, continued his reveries. 
 
 ' \Yhen will the next expedition be ? ' he 
 suddenly asked, timiino- to Constant. 
 
 J o 
 
 The latter trembled, sent his tool in a wrong 
 direction, and injured the delicate little wheel
 
 n8 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 he was fitting into its place. He muttered an 
 oath. 
 
 ' I should dismiss you if I were master here/ 
 he said, looking angrily at Manuel. 
 
 ' I shouldn't mind if you did,' he answered. 
 
 The foreman again called out ' Silence,' and 
 Manuel did not utter a word more. 
 
 Constant regretted having lost his temper, for 
 he believed firmly in the proverb, ' You won't 
 catch flies with vinegar ; ' and he always liked to 
 be on good terms with people who might be use- 
 ful to him. After supper, therefore, when the 
 time came for a pipe and a chat he was extra 
 gracious to Manuel, and begged him to describe 
 the adventures of the night. When he heard 
 that all the bales had been safely delivered he 
 gave a sigh of relief. 
 
 ' You have brought the luck back, my boy. 
 Do you feel inclined to have another try ? ' 
 
 ' When ? ' said Manuel eagerly. 
 
 ' Oh ! to-morrow, or the day after, or when 
 you like. You saw we have a whole stock of 
 goods at Mother Salome's. You might make up 
 a nice little party of three. I shouldn't mind 
 employing you four nights in the week ; but you 
 must take care and not work too hard. You
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 119 
 
 mayn't think about yourself; but I think for 
 you.' 
 
 His voice was full of friendly feeling. He 
 passed his hand gently over Manuel's shoulders 
 as if to say, ' What capital shoulders broad and 
 strong ; they are excellent for carrying my bales 
 of tobacco and boxes of watches.' 
 
 Manuel shook him off roughly ; he did not like 
 being stroked down like a horse. 
 
 Constant took no notice of this repulse which 
 betrayed a certain dislike, but went on to 
 say 
 
 ' The worst is you will never be punctual to 
 your work in the factory if you run about all 
 night, and you will be dismissed after playing 
 truant three or four times.' 
 
 ' So much the better for me and for you too, I 
 expect,' said Manuel, laughing. He was amused 
 at the diplomatic ways of his companion. He 
 continued, ' You spread your nets too much in 
 sistfit of the bird. Do you think I am a fool to 
 
 O J 
 
 be caught like that ? If you would only speak 
 out frankly, we should understand each other 
 much quicker.' 
 
 ' Manuel,' said Constant with Great solemnity, 
 
 O J 7 
 
 ' 1 want to do you a good turn, if at the same
 
 120 
 
 time I do myself one. Why should I not kill 
 two birds with one stone ? ' 
 
 ' Quite so ; but go on speak out.' 
 
 ' If you stayed on in the factory you would 
 soon betray us both ; then why not start on 
 your new career, where you will have plenty of 
 fun and money too ? In four nights you can 
 earn as much as in a week at the factory, and 
 have the rest of the time to yourself. It seems 
 to me that it is you who will gain by this 
 arrangement.' 
 
 Manuel did not answer at once. He watched 
 the black clouds round the setting sun. A flash 
 of lightning came from time to time, but no 
 sound of thunder followed. 
 
 ' The storm is passing away,' he said. ' It is 
 following the course of the river. It is very 
 lonely in that gorge ; suppose the lightning were 
 to strike the house.' 
 
 ' Do you mean Jonquille's house ? ' interrupted 
 Constant, with an angry look. ' What makes 
 you think of her now ? I warn you ; you had 
 better not be falling in love with the girl.' He 
 
 o CD 
 
 drew nearer to Manuel and looked straight into 
 his eyes. His menacing look gradually changed, 
 he recollected himself, and added in a guarded
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 manner, as if afraid of giving way to his feelings, 
 ' I warn you as a friend ; she would never suit 
 you ; besides, she will marry me.' 
 
 Manuel started, and opened his mouth to pro- 
 test or to question, but he deemed it wiser to be 
 silent. He thought instead, ' I will ask Jonquille 
 herself whether it is true.'
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE next day Manuel began settling Iris affairs 
 and arranging his new mode of life. He paid up 
 his small debts and looked for another lodging- 
 nearer his new work. He left his savings and 
 furniture in Constant Loison's care, and begged 
 him to find a new lodger to share his room. He 
 then filled a small box with clothes, which he 
 sent on by coach, and went off with a few 
 crowns in his pocket to search for a home nearer 
 the frontier. He found it in a poor -looking 
 cottage on the river-bank, about three-quarters 
 of an hour's walk from the gorge of Chatelot. 
 The room was small and badly furnished, but 
 tolerably airy and clean. After making inquiries 
 at the neighbouring inn into the owner's char- 
 acter he settled himself there, and unpacked and 
 arranged his things. When this was done, and 
 it did not take long, he sat down on his trunk
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 123 
 
 by the window and thought over his new position. 
 He was free ; he felt no pain in breaking away 
 from the old life, no regret, no fears for the 
 future. He left no debts, he broke no ties, he 
 had no relations, no duties called him back. No 
 one had any longer the right to say to him 
 ' Come here ; ' ' Do this.' He was now a law unto 
 himself his own master and ruler. He would 
 no longer hear the discordant shriek of the 
 factory whistle ; he was as happy as a boy the 
 day the holidays begin. 
 
 A bird flew past the window and Manuel's 
 eyes followed it with a sigh of relief; he need no 
 longer envy the birds their wings and their 
 freedom to fly whither they would through 
 boundless space. He might roam all day long, 
 with no guide but his own free will ; he would 
 let his watch run down ; it need no longer mark 
 the slow hours of factory work nor the brief 
 moments of liberty. How little lie cared to 
 count the hours now that the whole day was his. 
 He stood up eager to begin his new life. AY here 
 should he go ? He would go to Mother Salome 
 and arrange a new expedition. 
 
 It was a gray, sad-looking day ; the storm had 
 left heavy clouds behind, which trailed across the
 
 sky. In these mountain gorges, where the sun 
 rarely penetrates, the air gets chilly before rain, 
 and in the middle of July you might fancy 
 yourself in late autumn. 
 
 In spite of the weather Pierre had been 
 anxious to go out, and his sister had placed him 
 in a sheltered corner near the door where he 
 might catch the least gleam of sunshine. He 
 was wrapped in a long, smuggler's cloak of blue 
 cloth which reached to his feet ; his delicate 
 hands were hidden in the wide sleeves. He 
 looked paler than usual, for there was no sun to 
 give colour to his wan cheeks. 
 
 Jonquille sat on a low stool near her brother, 
 preparing vegetables for cooking ; every now and 
 then she stopped her work to call the poultry 
 and ducks around her, and to amuse herself by 
 pretending to throw them food and watching 
 their disappointment ; the feathered folk went 
 away clucking and quacking and protesting 
 against such treatment, but were quite ready 
 to come again, and buoyant with new hopes 
 when the next call was heard. Jonquille sat, 
 with her hands clasped round her knees, laugh- 
 ing at the behaviour of the creatures who came 
 
 O 
 
 open-mouthed, pushing and squabbling to get
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 125 
 
 the expected food. The ducks were always last, 
 waddling along like fat Chinese mandarins ; the 
 hens, with their long legs, were more active, 
 and came chattering and pecking right and left 
 and then retired, loudly proclaiming their dis- 
 gust, being followed more slowly by the offended 
 ducks in the rear. 
 
 ' How you tease them/ said Pierre, laughing. 
 
 ' They must have their vexations too ; it's 
 only fair otherwise every one would like to be 
 a duck. I have my troubles too.' 
 
 Pierre looked at her anxiously. 
 
 ' What troubles you, sister ? ' 
 
 ' I am anxious about our lads ; I hope they 
 got over the journey safely the other night. 
 They might have sent me word yesterday. 
 They know that I worry about them.' 
 
 ' Indeed, you don't generally seem so anxious.' 
 
 ' They had a new comrade with them.' 
 
 Jonquille turned her head away abruptly, for 
 a blush was mounting into her brown cheek. 
 She held a lettuce in her hand and began pick- 
 ing off the leaves, whether green or withered, 
 in an impatient way, and throwing them all into 
 her basket; then she went on talking, but without 
 looking; at Pierre.
 
 126 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' You understand that a new lad may en- 
 danger all ; lie may be awkward yet no, I don't 
 think he's that; he would rather be over-bold, 
 want to distinguish himself he may break his 
 neck ; such things do happen. I have regretted 
 a hundred times that I ever pointed out that 
 cleft to them ; it is too risky. I shall forbid their 
 using it ; but our lads are as obstinate as mules, 
 and don't count the risks. Who would think of 
 taking a new fellow by such a path ? I told 
 Firmin to have an eye on the lad ; but he will 
 forget he thinks of nothing but his pipe.' 
 
 Jonquille had let the knife and lettuce fall 
 in her agitation, her apron string got loose, and 
 the apron full of vegetables fell in a heap on the 
 ground ; the ducks and chickens took advantage 
 of this, and pecked about in it to their great 
 satisfaction. 
 
 ' And yet,' continued the girl, who seemed to 
 find relief in talk, ' they say that bad news travels 
 faster than good news, so I say to myself, " If 
 anything had happened to one of the lads, I 
 should have heard of it already; " don't you think 
 so, Pierre ? ' 
 
 Pierre answered absently ; he was evidently 
 thinking more of his sister and her state of mind
 
 SWISS SMUGGLER 127 
 
 than of the fate of the smugglers. He looked at 
 her attentively ; then suddenly, without giving 
 the clue to his train of thoughts, he changed the 
 subject and said in a deliberate voice 
 
 ' Last night, Jonquille, I dreamt that you 
 were going to be married.' 
 
 She started. 
 
 ' To whom ? ' she asked eagerly. 
 
 ' I don't know who it was. I couldn't see 
 his face ; but he was a big fellow, and you seemed 
 to love him dearly.' 
 
 Jonquille shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 ' Dreams are lies. What did lie say to me in 
 your dream, Pierre ? ' 
 
 ' He said, "My wife," and kissed you.' 
 
 ' Several times ? ' 
 
 ' No, only once.' 
 
 ' What nonsense ; and did I allow him ? ' 
 
 ' Ah ! then my dream got misty ; the room 
 changed into a boat, and I was by your side. 
 You hid me under your white veil ; but he was 
 still there, holding your hand and saying, 
 " What a pleasant wedding trip, Madame Jon- 
 quille ! " But when I looked again I only saw 
 the priest.' 
 
 ' To bless the marriage, of course,' said Jon-
 
 128 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 quille. ' Your dream is as sensible as you your- 
 self, Pierre ; mine have neither head nor tail. 
 But tell me, did not you see the least bit what 
 he was like ? ' 
 
 ' No ; he seemed to be in a haze, and it didn't 
 seem strange to me.' 
 
 ' That shows/ said Jonquille, kissing her 
 brother vehemently, to his surprise, ' that my 
 husband is still in the clouds, and for my part 
 I am very glad. Not that I want to be an old 
 maid though ; but, do you know, Pierre, that I 
 sometimes dread this future husband. For you 
 must know' she said this with a proud toss of 
 her head 'my husband must not be at my 
 beck and call like a servant ; he must be my 
 master.' 
 
 As she said this she lifted her eyes to the 
 path, but bent them down again immediately 
 and took up her former occupation. 
 
 ' Who is that man ? ' asked Pierre. ' See, 
 Jonquille, he is coming down the path.' 
 
 ' That is the new lad Manuel Vincent,' she 
 answered, without turning her head. 
 
 7 O 
 
 Manuel came up to the garden fence. 
 ' May I come in ? ' he asked, raising his hat 
 with rather an embarrassed manner.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 129 
 
 ' Have you come back already ? ' said Jouquille 
 coldly ; ' you may come in if you like.' 
 
 He raised the latch of the gate and came 
 slowly forward. The sight of Pierre made him 
 feel uncomfortable. 
 
 When a strong man sees a weak, suffering 
 fellow-creature, his first feeling is embarrassment, 
 his first impulse is to go away. But a kind, pitiful 
 man conquers this feeling and stays and Manuel 
 stayed. After saying a few words to Jonquille 
 he stooped down to Pierre, and taking his little, 
 cold hands in his own strong, warm ones, he 
 said 
 
 ' Is this your brother ? He looks rather pale ; 
 wouldn't he like a little turn in the sun ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, indeed he would ! ' answered Jonquille, 
 seeing the colour rise in her brother's cheeks at 
 the thought of such a pleasure : ' but 1 am not 
 strong enough to carry him ; all 1 can do is to 
 get him as far as this.' 
 
 'Could 1 manao-e it without hurting him?' 
 
 o o 
 
 continued Manuel, twirling his hat in his hand ; 
 a sort of shyness prevented him speaking to 
 Pierre himself. 
 
 The pleased look on the boy's face gave place 
 to an expression of disappointment. 
 
 K
 
 130 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' I am sure you could do it very well/ lie 
 said in a low voice ; ' but if it bores you, never 
 mind; I don't much care.' 
 
 ' Try,' said Jonquille ; ' my poor Pierre is not 
 heavy.' 
 
 Manuel bent down, and Pierre felt himself 
 taken up as if he were a feather, and so gently 
 was it done that he felt no jar or shock in his 
 poor, weak back. He leant his weary head 
 against Manuel's strong shoulder, while two 
 vigorous arms supported him. 
 
 ' How nice this is ! ' he said, with a sigh of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Jonquille gave Manuel one of her rare, soft 
 smiles which passed quickly across her express- 
 ive face, and gave it a strange, fleeting sweetness, 
 like a sudden beam of light across a midnight 
 sky. Manuel would have done a great deal to 
 win such a reward again ; but one could no more 
 arrest such a fugitive smile on Jonquille's face 
 than a flash of lightning. 
 
 ' Where shall we go ? ' said Pierre, eager to 
 begin this excursion, which was a great event 
 to him. 
 
 While he spoke the clouds parted as if 
 ashamed to overshadow his joy, and the rays
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 131 
 
 of the sun burst forth and sparkled on the 
 water. 
 
 ' There is my friend, the sun,' said Pierre ; 
 ' let us go to the grotto ; the river is beautiful 
 down there ; I will show you the way.' 
 
 ' I must stay and wash my lettuces,' said 
 Jonquille, giving a kick to the unfortunate 
 heap of vegetables, ' otherwise I would come 
 too. When the world is managed by me, I shall 
 make the men look after the dinner.' 
 
 Manuel, guided by Pierre, went down by a 
 little side -path which led along the river; at 
 length he stopped, for the river seemed to bar 
 his path by a sudden turn. 
 
 ' Stoop a little,' said Pierre, ' and turn to the 
 right.' 
 
 A chalk cliff seemed to come down here, like 
 a smooth wall, to the water's edge, but it was 
 hollowed out underneath by the constant wash- 
 ing of the river, and formed a long, low grotto 
 which was dry in summer though wet during 
 the spring-floods. JManuel advanced cautiously 
 along the narrow path, hemmed in between the 
 cliff and the river, which led to the grotto. He 
 sat down on one of the great blocks of stone 
 which served for seats, while the floor was paved
 
 1 32 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 with blue and white pebbles, as smooth as 
 polished agates. The strange aspect of the place 
 made him dumb ; and, indeed, it was difficult to 
 raise one's voice above the roar of waters. The 
 low roof of the grotto enclosed the view like the 
 frame of a picture, the river dashed over the 
 weir, and nothing could be seen but foaming 
 waters and a narrow strip of green above. The 
 river here was like a bewitching mermaid, with 
 
 O y 
 
 all her charms, full of surprises and fascination ; 
 now she leaped in foam, and threw up great jets 
 of spray, which seemed like the manes of her 
 coursers as she rushed over the weir, and now 
 she swept into some quiet eddy under the bank ; 
 and then, again, all her fury and impetuosity 
 vanished within a stone's throw of the dam ; the 
 roar of the waters subsided into a whisper under 
 the overhanging branches, and the foaming 
 waves became smiling ripples which sparkled in 
 the sunlight. These contrasts please the eye ; 
 we look up from the peaceful stream to the 
 raging water, which has already carried away 
 many a block of stone which dammed its course, 
 and think the old saying 'unstable as water/ is 
 as true as it was two thousand years ago. And 
 yet this capricious, ruthless, cruel element has
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 133 
 
 fascinated all hearts, even those that seem coldest 
 and most cynical. The mountains and forests 
 and meadows are beautiful, but water is still 
 more so ; it has more life and motion, and people 
 in all ages have given it a personality capable of 
 loving and hating. Manuel and Pierre were 
 silent for some time ; they could not see the sky, 
 but they knew that the clouds had drifted away 
 from the lio-ht on the water. At last Manuel got 
 
 o o 
 
 up ; he was afraid that the damp coolness of the 
 grotto might harm the delicate lad. 
 
 ' How beautiful it is ! Thank you so much : 
 but aren't you tired ? ' said Pierre. 
 
 ' Tired ; why, you are not a bit heavier than 
 my bale the other night ! I will take you up the 
 path again, and find a nice, sunny corner, for I 
 felt you shiver just now.' 
 
 He soon found a dry, grassy spot, sheltered on 
 one side by thick bushes, but open on the other 
 to the sun, whose heat was reflected back by a 
 great gray rock on the right. Pierre looked 
 around with the intent observation of one who 
 has been shut up for a long time in a narrow 
 space, and who drinks in every detail eagerly, 
 and feasts his eyes on the colours and shapes of 
 flowers and stones and bushes, laying up pictures
 
 134 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 in his mind to recall them in lonely hours. Two 
 little white butterflies passed by him, and his 
 eyes followed them till they disappeared out of 
 sight ; then a lizard darted across the path, and 
 climbing up the rock hid itself in a chink. 
 
 ' Let us wait here a little ! ' cried Pierre ; ' per- 
 haps he will come out again.' 
 
 He watched, and in a minute the timid 
 creature put its head out of the hole, but only 
 to withdraw it again. However, Pierre, who 
 had been on the watch with breathless interest, 
 had just seen his bright eyes and the brilliant 
 green of his head, which in fairy stories is the 
 emerald crown of Prince Lizard. The boy was 
 delighted, but his natural vivacity had been so 
 long checked by illness that he did not express 
 his pleasure, but only smiled and treasured up 
 this scene in his memory to be a delight in the 
 long, monotonous weeks which would follow this 
 unusual treat. 
 
 Manuel, having settled him in a sunny nook, 
 where prettv. feathery grasses grew, sat down 
 
 / ' / o 
 
 beside him. 
 
 ' You can bask here in this bright sun as if 
 you were a lizard yourself ; but don't you find it 
 too hot ? '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 135 
 
 He took off his hat, as he said this, to wipe 
 his brow, for he had climbed up the path rapidly, 
 in order to get out of the damp shade. 
 
 ' I am never too hot,' answered Pierre ; ' Jon- 
 quille says I am as cold-blooded as a fish.' 
 
 ' One would guess that from the colour of your 
 cheeks. But what is the use of a doctor if he 
 can't cure you ? ' he asked abruptly. 
 
 ' I suppose he can't do anything,' said Pierre, 
 surprised to see the angry flash in Manuel's 
 eyes. 
 
 ' Can't do anything, indeed ! I would make 
 
 him do something. Has he got any common 
 
 sense or feeling if, after years of study, he can do 
 
 nothing but let a child vegetate in this fashion 
 
 How long have you been ill ? ' 
 
 ' I think I have always been like this,' said the 
 boy in a low voice. 
 
 ' And how old are you ? ' 
 
 ' Fifteen.' 
 
 ' Well, there are some things I can't under- 
 stand ! ' said Manuel to himself. He got up and 
 took a turn, biting his moustache, and then came 
 back. 
 
 ' I suppose patience is the must difficult kind 
 of courage,' he said in a reflective voice.
 
 136 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 1 I don't know,' said Pierre ; ' but I know that 
 I have not got enough patience ; but one gets 
 accustomed to anything, even to bearing pain.' 
 
 Manuel shook his head as if he could not 
 believe that. 
 
 ' I should be a coward if I had to suffer for a 
 long time/ he said. ' I could clench my teeth and 
 bear torture, or even die without a word ; but to 
 linger and bear pain constantly no, I couldn't 
 do that.' 
 
 Pierre tried to turn the conversation ; he 
 never pitied himself, and his natural pride 
 shrank from the pity of others. A woman 
 would have guessed this ; but Manuel, with his 
 rough, kind-heartedness, never thought of it. 
 
 ' I am never dull/ said Pierre cheerfully ; ' I 
 can often work, and then I can read ; I have a 
 great many books.' 
 
 ' Did Jonquille give them to you ? ' 
 
 ' She bought me the best ones ; but I have 
 some old ones, quite yellow with age. If you 
 come to my room you will see my bookshelf. I 
 have several illustrated works of Jules Verne ; 
 they cost Jonquille a great deal, for they have 
 gilt edges and binding. Then I've got Paul 
 and Virginia, and La Fontaine's Fables. My
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 137 
 
 mother bought an old chest once, full of ragged 
 books. I mended up the worst ; there was a 
 Lives of the Saints, and a grammar, and an 
 Imitation of Christ, and others, from which I 
 learnt a great deal. Jonquille says that if I get 
 well I should make a good clerk - but I 
 would rather be a traveller,' he added, in a low 
 voice. ' When I can't sleep at night, I amuse 
 myself by inventing all sorts of adventures 
 which I should have in wild countries.' 
 
 ' That's odd,' said Manuel ; ' I too want to 
 have adventures, so we have that point in 
 common.' 
 
 ' There is another thing we shall think alike 
 about.' said Pierre, looking at his companion 
 with keen, earnest eyes. 
 
 ' May be ; but what is it ? ' 
 
 ' Are you not fond of Jonquille ? ' he said 
 simply. 
 
 Although his lonely life had made him very 
 observant, he was quite ignorant of conventional 
 customs, and that it is not usual to speak openly 
 on some subjects. lie knew that all the young 
 men who came to the house were his sister's 
 suitors. Jonquille made no secret of it, and he. 
 with his naive earnestness, thought it the natural
 
 thing, and felt sure that Manuel counted as one 
 more among the number. 
 
 The young man remained silent, looking 
 straight before him, and twisting his moustache 
 vehemently, as if it would help him to answer a 
 difficult question. 
 
 At last he said, ' I like her voice, and I should 
 be ready to follow her anywhere. But no I 
 don't think I'm in love with Jonquille.' 
 
 ' And why not ? ' said Pierre indignantly ; 
 isn't she pretty, and good, and brave ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Manuel, who felt that he was sink- 
 ing deeper and deeper into difficulties, ' yes ; 
 she is pretty, good, and brave but she's not 
 like a girl ; she's a boy.' 
 
 Pierre bent his head and tried hard to keep 
 back the tears which filled his eyes. What 
 Manuel had said openly, he had thought once, 
 perhaps twice ; but he would not entertain such 
 a thought, or let it take shape in his mind. 
 
 "What ! blame Jonquille, to whose tenderness 
 he owed everything ? 
 
 ' Let us go now, please,' he said, turning his 
 head away. 
 
 He would gladly have stayed there for hours, 
 listening to the grasshoppers and watching the
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 139' 
 
 insects, but it seemed base to him to stay any 
 longer there with a man who criticised his sister 
 
 o 
 
 so freely. Manuel bent down to take him up in 
 his arms, and as he was arranging the folds of 
 the cloak, he saw that Pierre was quite pale and 
 his lips quivering. 
 
 ' My poor boy, am I hurting you ? ' he ex- 
 claimed ; ' how awkward I am ! ' 
 
 ' Never speak to me again of my sister,' said 
 Pierre in a trembling voice. ' Keep your thoughts 
 about her to yourself. But you are quite mis- 
 taken ; you don't know her. You don't know 
 how gentle and tender she is ; how skilful with 
 her fingers when she chooses. Is it her fault 
 that she has to take the lead to row r the boat, 
 to watch at night, to scold the lads when they 
 disobey her? She has been brought up in the 
 midst of it all. From morning to night they 
 smoke and drink and quarrel at our house. 
 Jonquille is no fine lady, and you have no right 
 to judge her.' 
 
 Pierre had completely broken through his 
 quiet, reserved manner ; his eyes were flashing 
 out of his white face, and Manuel felt him 
 tremble from head to foot, lie stopped, and 
 looked at him with a new and kindly interest.
 
 140 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' That's right, my boy ; stand up for your 
 sister. I should do just the same if I had one; 
 only I should defend her with my fists instead of 
 my tongue, which is not a ready one.' After a 
 minute he went on, ' I was wrong to say that 
 about your sister ; I was a brute. Now, are you 
 satisfied, Pierre ? ' 
 
 His tone of voice showed that he was really 
 sorry to have hurt the lad, and Pierre slipped 
 his hand into Manuel's, but without saying a 
 word. He had been wounded in a sensitive 
 spot, and he could not get over it at once. 
 
 When he saw Jonquille coming up the path 
 to meet them he watched all her movements 
 with an almost painful attention. He would 
 have liked to prove, by all her words and 
 actions, that he who blamed her was in the 
 wrong. Ah ! why did she hide all the tender, 
 womanly ways, which Pierre knew so well, and 
 appear brusque and capricious to others ? 
 
 ' I daresay you are a little tired,' she said, 
 
 J / 
 
 stroking her brother's cheek. ' You stayed a 
 long time up there ; but I will forgive you this 
 time, if you won't do too much again. Dinner 
 is ready, Manuel.' 
 
 She said his name without thinking about it.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 141 
 
 She was accustomed to call all the lads by their 
 Christian names ; but when she saw the young 
 man look surprised, she suddenly blushed all over 
 her face and neck. 
 
 ' Well,' she said angrily, ' aren't you called 
 Manuel ? The name is rather ugly, to be sure, 
 but still it is yours. Did you expect me to call 
 you my lord ? ' 
 
 She turned on her heels at once and led the 
 way to the low room, where dinner was laid for 
 four. Mother Salome received her guest rather 
 graciously, but was careful to tell him before he 
 sat down that his dinner would cost thirty sous, 
 that he might not think that he was going to 
 
 o o o 
 
 dine at the expense of a widow and orphans, for 
 it was thus she habitually spoke of herself and 
 family, implying that she had heavy charges to 
 hear, and could only just make the two ends meet. 
 I hoped to have met here t\vo or three of the 
 other fellows, and then we mio-ht have arranged 
 
 O O 
 
 something for to-night,' said Manuel. 
 
 ' Firmin Mitou is sure to come this afternoon. 
 lie rarely lets two days pass without our seeing 
 him.' answered the hostess. 'And now, tell me. 
 young man. have you really joined our lads for 
 good and all <* You are right ; it is a capital
 
 142 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 business ; some risks, of course, but good pay 
 and not much competition. But you have no 
 outfit. You want gaiters and iron nails when 
 the ground is frozen, a strong sack, some straps, 
 and a pistol ; those are the principal things.' 
 
 ' Perhaps you could supply me with them/ 
 said Manuel. 
 
 Mother Salome had not expected him to take 
 the bait so easily. 
 
 ' I have got a whole set of things as good as 
 new. There may be some buttons off the gaiters, 
 but they can be sewed on. The pistol is excel- 
 lent. Are you knowing in firearms ? ' 
 
 ' I can take a gun to pieces as well as any one, 
 as I have been through the military drill, but I 
 don't pretend to know much more.' 
 
 ' I gave twenty francs for the pistol, and three 
 more for the powder-horn and bullets ; I will 
 let you have them for the same price as a favour. 
 One must help young people who are starting in 
 life.' 
 
 Jonquille put down her knife and fork with a 
 look of determination, and said 
 
 ' You have made a mistake, mother. I saw 
 you myself pay only ten francs for that rubbish. 
 If you want to make a profit on it say so out-
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 143 
 
 right, instead of mystifying Man - I mean 
 Mr. Manuel.' 
 
 She put an emphasis on the ' Mr. 1 Manuel 
 blushed. 
 
 ' What do you mean by this way of going on?' 
 said the hostess, glad to turn Manuel's attention 
 away from her daughter's indiscreet revelation. 
 ' What do you mean by Mistering him ? ' 
 
 ' I made a mistake. I meant to say " My 
 lord." ' 
 
 Manuel grew redder than before, and was 
 inclined to be angry. But Jonquille felt that 
 she had revenged herself enough and began to 
 
 i, and said to her mother 
 
 y 
 
 1 Don't look so astonished. I have just been 
 settling a little matter between us ; you may 
 settle yours afterwards, but I think the pistol is 
 dear at fifteen francs/ 
 
 Mother Salome threw up her hands indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 ' It has but one barrel that barrel is rusty, the 
 lock is loose. It will take at least three days to 
 put it in order. My lord Vincent, I recommend 
 you not to o-ive more than three crowns for it.' 
 
 of O 
 
 Pierre looked at his sister imploringly. What 
 made her talk in this way ?
 
 144 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' If you call me " My lord " I shall go away,' 
 said Manuel, who was not very patient. 
 
 ' And pray, what am I to call you ? ' 
 
 'Manuel only.' 
 
 ' Very well ; I will call you Manuel only. It 
 is an odd name. Will you have some salad, 
 Manuel only ? ' 
 
 He got up angrily. 
 
 ' Oh, Jonquille ! how can you tease him so ? ' 
 cried Pierre. 
 
 ' Sit down again,' she said in an imperious 
 voice ; ' you can't run away from the table like 
 that. Where are your manners ? Sit still ; I 
 have done laughing now.' 
 
 The dinner was finished in silence, and then 
 Mother Salome went off to fetch the outfit which 
 she wanted Manuel to buy. 
 
 As soon as the door was closed Jonquille 
 turned to Manuel and said 
 
 ' Come, let us make it up. You ought to have 
 told me that you couldn't stand being teased ; I 
 won't do it again till next time.' Then stretch- 
 ing out her hand to him she continued, ' Come, 
 get rid of that ugly frown ; I forgive you.' 
 
 ' Very well,' said Manuel suddenly ; ' I will 
 make it up, but on one condition.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 145 
 
 'What is it?' 
 
 ' Answer me truly ; Constant Loison says that 
 you are going to accept him ; but I don't be- 
 lieve it. 
 
 Jonquille frowned. 
 
 ' You may believe it or not as you like ; it does 
 not matter to me/ she said in a haughty tone. 
 
 ' But it does matter to me,' said Manuel. 
 
 ' And why, pray ? ' 
 
 A woman who asks questions is beginning to 
 soften. 
 
 ' Because,' said the young man at once, ' I 
 should like you to marry a better man.' 
 
 Jonquille shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 ' Thank you,' she said and smiled, adding, ' If 
 you had not been kind to Pierre I should go on 
 teasing you a little ; it helps to form the character 
 of young people. But I wish to tell you plainly 
 that Constant Loison lied. You may tell him 
 that in fact, I will tell him so myself when I 
 have an opportunity.' 
 
 Mother Salome now returned and threw down 
 an armful of things on the table. 
 
 'Choose amongst these/ she said, while her 
 claw-like fingers turned over every article of 
 clothing, trying the seams and feeling in the 
 
 L
 
 146 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 pockets, for one sometimes finds money in 
 the lining of old coats. ' Here are some good 
 cloth gaiters, with two rows of buttons ; or 
 perhaps you want some blouses. I have half 
 a dozen quite new which belonged to my 
 husband in fact, I was making the last when 
 he went off into the next world. If he had 
 only gone off a fortnight sooner I shouldn't 
 have bought the linen, and so much would 
 
 O 7 
 
 have been saved. I've also got upstairs a 
 nice box, with a lock to it ; it would just suit 
 you to keep your things in ; you would put 
 them in and turn the key, and your landlady 
 
 could not touch them Or perhaps you want 
 
 flannel vests ; you can't do without them as a 
 smuggler. Flannel keeps off rheumatism every- 
 body knows that and without it you would be 
 laid up before you were thirty. Come, choose 
 what you want.' 
 
 Manuel examined the pistol, which was rusty 
 and out of repair in fact, it was more like an 
 old saucepan than a weapon of war. 
 
 ' Twenty francs for this why, it is only 
 worth ten ! ' and he pulled at the trigger, which 
 refused to work. 
 
 ' It's worth eight at the most,' interrupted
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 14? 
 
 Jonquille ; she was determined to fight for right 
 and justice, and felt ashamed of her mother, 
 who threw angry glances at her. ' As for the 
 blouses 
 
 The door opened wide at this moment and a 
 jovial voice exclaimed, ' What, a bazaar ! Why, 
 Mother Salome, are you trying to palm off those 
 old blouses on Manuel ? We know your little 
 tricks ; why, you have tried to sell them to each 
 of the lads since the year one of the Republic. 
 You forget that your late husband was a very 
 small man, as the song says,' and Firmin Mitou 
 began to hum 
 
 ' " Pussy took him for a mouse, but he 
 My husband is, though small," said she ; 
 " He is so very small, you see." ' 
 
 Jonquille seemed relieved and went to sit 
 down by Pierre. The old huckster had now to 
 reckon with some one who knew what he was 
 about. Manuel selected the thino-s he wanted, 
 
 O 
 
 and Firmin beat down the price to half the sum 
 originally asked as a 'fair price/ 
 
 Ever since the rude shaking Manuel had 
 
 o 
 
 given Firmin, when he took him for a Custom - 
 House officer, the latter had held Manuel in great 
 esteem, and he now consented, after a little
 
 148 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 deliberation, to join him in the proposed ex- 
 pedition. 
 
 In order to arrange the details by themselves 
 they got into the boat and went up the river a 
 little way, for it was too hot to stay in the house, 
 and who knows whether the bushes by the path 
 might not have ears ? 
 
 When they reached a spot where the river 
 spreads itself out on a sandy bed, with great 
 blocks of stone here and there, they moored the 
 boat between two stones, and stretching them- 
 selves on the benches of the boat, began to smoke 
 their pipes like Indians at a council of war. 
 After a little while Firmin raised himself on his 
 elbow, and pointing with his pipe to some masses 
 of purple clouds slowly drifting across the sky, 
 said 
 
 ' We shall have rough weather to-night. We 
 often have storms at this time of the year ; 
 the current of the river draws them this way. 
 It will be a capital night for our work, comrade.' 
 
 ' Will it ? ' said Manuel carelessly. 
 
 ' Why, when the lightning is flashing right 
 and left, and it rains cats and dogs, do you think 
 that our dear friends, the Custom-House men, will 
 care to turn out ? No ; they like a dry shirt
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 149 
 
 better than getting wet to the skin. As for me, 
 I don't care how much it rains I am waterproof ; 
 but we shall not have the pleasure of meeting 
 them to-night, I am quite sure ? ' 
 
 ' How many more expeditions will it take to 
 clear off Loison's stock ? ' asked Manuel. 
 
 ' Four or five, if we all go ; but to-night we 
 shall only have Arsene with us ; the others are 
 gone to a wedding at Uncle Gailliard's.' 
 
 ' Then it will take us a fortnight to get to the 
 end of the bales ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; but what does that signify ? When 
 they are gone more will come. Constant will 
 make fresh purchases. Mother Salome's cup- 
 board is never empty of bales. 
 
 Manuel remained thoughtful. 
 
 ' Has Loison really never gone with you on 
 any expedition ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' AVe should be sadly bothered if he came. 
 Why, he has no nerves, no strength in his legs or 
 wrists or anywhere ! ' 
 
 Manuel went on asking, ' How much profit 
 does he s;et on his poods ? ' 
 
 O O 
 
 ' I don't know ; twice as much as he gives us, 
 1 should think. You see, he supplies the capital. 
 They were again silent, while puffs of blue
 
 ISO THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 smoke rose from the boat, which was gently 
 rocked by the stream. The two comrades grew 
 drowsy in the heat of the afternoon, and lulled 
 by this motion they at last fell fast asleep ; 
 Firmin rolled to the bottom of the boat, where 
 he could stretch out his limbs comfortably ; 
 while Manuel lay on his back dreaming that he 
 was at the factory. 
 
 ' Oh, that noise that dreadful noise of 
 machinery will drive me mad ! ' he muttered 
 in his sleep. 
 
 He woke in a quarter of an hour with the sun 
 shining full on his face ; he turned on one side 
 and listened to the plash of the water which, in 
 his dream, had sounded like the heavy breathing 
 of the steam-engine. 
 
 At this moment some one hailed him from the 
 shore ; it was Arsene Leroux, whom Firmin 
 and Manuel were expecting to join them in the 
 night's work. He was heavily built, thick-set, 
 and as strong and placid as an ox. He had no 
 great cleverness, and was no orator. Firmin 
 appreciated this, as it allowed him a larger share 
 in the conversation. He never got excited nor 
 depressed. His usual remark on all occasions was 
 ' The stones are hard.' He adapted this indisput-
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 151 
 
 able truth to all the circumstances of life. Seeing 
 his two comrades on the river, he sat quietly 
 down on the edge of the path. 
 
 ' It's hot/ said Manuel. 
 
 ' Too hot to talk,' he answered, shaking his 
 head. 
 
 ' It's a little cooler on the water ; we get a little 
 breeze ; I will come and fetch you,' said Manuel. 
 
 Arsene bent his head approvingly, while 
 Manuel rowed to the shore ; but as the former 
 was coming down the bank, he caught his foot in 
 a creeping root and fell forward on the pebbles. 
 
 ' No harm,' he said, getting up at once, and 
 dipping his bleeding hand, which had grazed the 
 stones, in the water. ' The stones are hard,' he 
 said phlegmatically. 
 
 Firmin was now awake, and the three com- 
 rades sat side by side in the boat while Arsene 
 was told of their plans ; he did not trouble about 
 the details ; he had no ideas of his own on the 
 matter, and would never have planned anything 
 himself; but he would take up the bale when it 
 was ready, and march where he was told to go. 
 His mot her had all his earnings in the business. 
 
 O 
 
 She was a good woman, with a large familv. and 
 treated her eldest son like a babv, and scolded
 
 152 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 him when she thought he deserved it. He was 
 an excellent listener, and never got impatient, 
 but admired each speaker in turn, and modestly 
 remarked, 'I could never have found so much 
 to say about the matter.' 
 
 ' You understand now, don't yon ? ' said 
 Firmin, giving him a poke with his elbow. 
 
 ' All right,' said the other calmly. ' You just 
 go in front and I will follow.' 
 
 ' We shan't have a lively time to-night ; the 
 weather is breaking up.' 
 
 ' We have had bad times before.' 
 
 ' You are a plucky fellow,' said Firmin, slap- 
 ping him on the shoulder. ' Now, come let's 
 have a game.' 
 
 Manuel was reluctantly obliged to confess 
 that he had never played at skittles before ; 
 but his comrades lost no time in teaching him 
 the noble game, and the afternoon passed 
 quickly by in game after game till supper 
 was served, and after that they prepared to 
 start. 
 
 Jonquille had been waiting on the three 
 smugglers ; she was more reserved than usual 
 and said but little, and in vain they asked 
 her to give them a song.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 153 
 
 ' It isn't worth while doing it for three/ she 
 said drily. 
 
 ' Then bring us some brandy/ said Firmin ; 
 ' we must have something to cheer us up before 
 starting.' 
 
 Without saying a word she filled three small 
 liqueur glasses and then carefully locked up the 
 bottle. 
 
 ' One more/ said Firmin, who had drunk off 
 his glass at once. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 ' Not a drop more ; are you mad ? Do you 
 want to break your legs ? Come, get ready ; it 
 is high time for you to start.' 
 
 Manuel was much disappointed. Did Jon- 
 quille fear to gain too little by singing to an 
 audience of three ? Pie had a great mind to ask 
 her, but a natural feeling of courtesy prevented 
 him. His purse was well lined, but how could 
 he tell Jonquille that he would gladly pay a 
 crown for each song ? 
 
 The smugglers started off without enthusiasm ; 
 they were dull, almost melancholy, and the ex- 
 pedition did not promise well. 
 
 ' \Ye were more lively the other night/ said Fir- 
 min, throwing a reproachful look at the young girl.
 
 154 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' One day follows another, but you will never 
 find two alike/ she said carelessly ; ' do you sup- 
 pose that I am always ready to sing as if I were 
 a musical box ? ' 
 
 It was pouring, and Jonquille wrapped her- 
 self up in an old shawl which had already been 
 out often in bad weather. She went on first to 
 where the boat lay, and was followed by Manuel 
 and Firmin, while Arsene came last, and calmly 
 opened a large, red, cotton umbrella. 
 
 ' Do you mean to march across the frontier 
 under that red roof 1 ' asked Firmin, turning 
 round. 
 
 ' What's the use of getting wet ? ' he answered. 
 ' I shall leave my umbrella with Jonquille ; she 
 will be snug under it while she waits for us.' 
 
 He sat down by her in the boat, sheltering her 
 as much as possible, and looking at her with shy 
 admiration, though the darkness of the night was 
 not favourable to his dumb courtship. His fore- 
 thought in taking the umbrella was justified, for 
 the rain ceased as they landed, and Arsene had 
 the satisfaction of having his shoulders dry while 
 the two others felt a cold damp penetrating to 
 their skin. 
 
 As the Custom-IIouse men were not likely to
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 155 
 
 be out on such a night, they were able to take an 
 easier way than the one they had gone before. 
 They took a sloping path among the rocks which 
 was not dangerous, but only long and tedious. 
 The thunder was still growling in the distance, 
 but the storm was drifting away, though flashes 
 of lightning lit up the horizon frequently. The 
 road was w r et and slippery, and they often had to 
 stop to get rid of the mud which clogged their 
 boots. There was nothing exciting, no steep 
 cliffs to scale as they did the other night, nothing 
 to rouse their spirits, only a monotonous tramp, 
 tramp, through the rain, with the leather straps 
 cutting their shoulders. 
 
 ' What stupid work this is,' said Manuel, stop- 
 ping for a minute. 
 
 It's our business,' answered Firmin. 
 
 The stones are hard,' added Arsene. 
 '.March.' 
 
 'It's all Jonquille's fault,' thought Manuel 
 bitterly ; ' if she had liked she might have 
 sent us off in high spirits. Should 1 have 
 cared about rain the other night I 1 could have 
 stayed under a pump without observing it ; 
 but she wants to make us feel her value.' 
 
 In two hours' time they reached the hamlet
 
 1 56 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 where the small grocer lived, and as their bales 
 were this time sugar and tobacco, they left them 
 all with him, and asked him to take them in for 
 the night. 
 
 The grocer was a good fellow in spite of his 
 sly look, and besides, he wished to keep on good 
 terms with the smugglers who supplied him 
 with goods, and by whose means he carried on 
 a thriving trade ; he, therefore, made up a good 
 fire, round which the three men sat and dried 
 themselves, while they drank grog out of the 
 great brown jug which was keeping hot by the 
 hearth. Eirmin now recovered his tongue, but 
 Arsene took his drink with the placidity which 
 he had never lost ; Manuel was the only one 
 who could not recover his spirits. 
 
 This second expedition, so dull compared with 
 the first, had thrown a damper on his hopes. He 
 had seen the ideal side of a smuggler's life in the 
 excitement of the first night, but he had to learn 
 that a good smuggler must not only be brave, 
 bold, and athletic, but must also, at times, have 
 the patience of a beast of burden, and plod on 
 through the wearisome routine of his work like a 
 pack-horse. 
 
 He slept but little, although the hay was dry,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 157 
 
 and he bad a warm blanket to cover him ; the 
 idea rankled in his mind that perhaps it was 
 from dislike to himself that Jonquille had re- 
 fused to sing ; or was it one of her many 
 caprices ? Manuel longed to ask Firmin's 
 opinion, but was too proud to do it ; besides, 
 he said to himself, what did Jonquille's vagaries 
 matter to him ; he didn't care, or at least he tried 
 to think so. 
 
 He fell asleep in the early morning, and when 
 he woke Arsene was gone, but Firmin was still 
 asleep Firmin, who had the valuable faculty of 
 keeping awake when he wished, and of laying up 
 a store of sleep when he had the chance. 
 
 He lay there dreaming happily, with an aure- 
 ole of straws sticking out of his hair, and a great 
 red -and -blue checked handkerchief tied loosely 
 round his head. Manuel woke him up at once, 
 for he was eager to arrange a new expedition for 
 that very night ; his comrade rather grumbled 
 at this excess of zeal, but at last agreed to meet 
 him at the appointed hour at Mother Salome's 
 cottage. They then parted company the veteran 
 and the new recruit going their severals ways 
 home by the shortest roads.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WHEN Manuel reached home he threw himself on 
 the bed and tried to sleep, but in vain. It was 
 hot ; there was a coming and going in the house ; 
 the stairs creaked and woke him up every time 
 he fell into a doze ; at last, in despair, he got up. 
 ' Supposing I went down there, I should have 
 plenty of time to put that pistol in order I 
 don't go to see Jonquille ; she may think so if 
 she likes. She has got into her head that all the 
 fellows fall in love with her ; but I will show her 
 that there is no rule without an exception. Not 
 that I wish her ill. Oh no ; I am rather inclined 
 to be friendly and to like the way she holds her 
 pretty little head so high. Yes ; she is quite right 
 to make herself respected and to hold her own. 
 I would not reproach her for that ; but to refuse 
 to sing just out of caprice I can't approve of 
 that. Pierre ought to speak to her. I am not
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 159 
 
 going to turn schoolmaster and lecture her ; she 
 would soon send me about my business.' 
 
 As he said this to himself, he took his hat, col- 
 lected a few small tools he had brought from the 
 factory, and put a piece of sandpaper in his pocket. 
 He was in such a hurry to reach his destination 
 of course he wanted to mend his pistol that he 
 hurried down the path, and at last began to run 
 till he was out of breath. When he was near the 
 Chatelot gorge and could see Jonquille's home, 
 he went slower, and even dawdled on the way, 
 stopping to throw pebbles into the water. But 
 suddenly, to his great surprise, he saw a window 
 open in the upper story ; it was Pierre's room, and 
 Jonquille made a sign to him with her hand. He 
 hurried on, and when he reached the threshold 
 Jonquille met him. Her face was pale, her eyes 
 had a frightened look, and her lips trembled as 
 she held out both hands to welcome Manuel. 
 She was no longer the proud, cold Jonquille of 
 yesterday. 
 
 ' 1 low glad I am you have come ! Pierre is ill ; 
 my mother is away ; I did not know what to do. 
 Please come upstairs, quick !' 
 
 He followed her at once into Pierre's room, 
 where lie had not been before. The lad was lying
 
 160 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 back exhausted in his chair; his eyes were closed, 
 and a black line under them was like a bruise ; 
 his teeth were clenched, and his lips were blue. 
 
 ' He fainted while I was helping him to 
 dress/ said Jonquille in a low voice ; ' it has 
 
 happened so before but I could not lift 
 
 him on to the bed ; he is too heavy for me to do 
 it when he is quite helpless.' 
 
 Manuel bent down and took the boy up in 
 his arms tenderly, touched with pity, as one 
 might lift a wounded lamb. He put him 
 down gently on the bed and then turned to 
 Jonquille. 
 
 ' What can I do now ? ' he said, not knowing 
 what was the right thing. 
 
 ' Stay here while I fetch some vinegar from 
 the kitchen. Oh, what a good thing it was you 
 came ! Thank God ! ' she said fervently, as she 
 went away. 
 
 When Manuel was left alone with Pierre, he 
 took his hand and rubbed it gently. Poor little 
 hand ; it was so cold and thin ; he remembered 
 that it was slipped into his only yesterday as a 
 token of forgiveness. Manuel was struck with 
 remorse when he saw him lying there, looking so 
 pale, as if his soul had already fled.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 161 
 
 ' Poor lad ! I hurt him by what I said, and 
 how unjust I was. Jonquille is kind and gentle ; 
 she is a true w T oman. One must see her here in a 
 sickroom in order to know her.' 
 
 Jonquille came back, bringing a cup of vinegar 
 and a towel. 
 
 ' That's right,' she said, looking approvingly 
 at Manuel ; ' rub his hands gently.' 
 
 She took her brother's shoes off and wrapped 
 his feet up in flannel, and then bathed his fore- 
 head and temples with vinegar with a light 
 hand, whose movements Manuel could not help 
 watching. She said nothing; her eyes were bent 
 down, and she was evidently making a great 
 effort to remain calm. Sometimes she stooped 
 and put her face close to Pierre's, to see if he 
 was recovering consciousness. There was nothing 
 imperious about her now ; and the tones of her 
 voice were changed and had something touching 
 and supplicating in them. 
 
 ' Pierre, darling,' she whispered, as she put 
 her warm lips to his cold cheek. 
 
 Suddenly she rose, and stretching out her 
 hands in terror to Manuel, with dilated eyes and 
 white lips exclaimed 
 
 ' Is he - No, no ! Oh, my God ! ' and she 
 
 M
 
 1 62 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 fell on her knees, tearless, and murmuring, ' 1 
 have but him.' 
 
 Manuel grew pale too, and a great pity filled 
 his heart ; he bent down to Pierre and listened 
 intently. 
 
 ' He is alive still ; I can hear his heart beat. 
 Get up, Jonquille, and let us try and do some- 
 thing to bring him back.' 
 
 For more than half an hour they tried in vain 
 to restore consciousness. There was no sign of 
 life ; no muscle quivered on the calm face which 
 still kept its peaceful, patient look. 
 
 At length Manuel said, ' Suppose I carry 
 Pierre to the open window, and see what a 
 thorough draught may do ; the fresh air may 
 restore him.' 
 
 ' Let us try,' said Jonquille, still holding 
 Pierre's hand, and with a frightened expression 
 on her face, while she watched his pale cheeks, 
 which were almost as white as the pillow on 
 which he lay. 
 
 Manuel bent down, and for the second time 
 lifted the drooping, emaciated form. 
 
 ' Open the two windows wide and the door,' 
 he said to Jonquille. 
 
 Just at that moment Pierre opened his eyes.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 163 
 
 They could not tell whether it was the result of 
 their efforts, or whether the crisis of the fit had 
 passed. Manuel and Jonquille uttered an ex- 
 clamation of relief, but Pierre, looking round for 
 his sister, said with a slight effort, ' I am better 
 now; I have slept.' Manuel was still holding 
 the lad in his arms, and Pierre's head rested on 
 his shoulder ; he sat down gently with him by 
 the window, and Pierre lay quietly in his arms as 
 if he were a little child. 
 
 The window was open, and the fresh air came 
 up from the river, bringing with it the murmuring 
 sound of running water. Pierre raised his head 
 a little, drew a long breath, and then fell back, 
 with a look of content, into the strong arms that 
 supported him. 
 
 'How you frightened us,' said Jonquille. 
 She thought little of this word MX which she let 
 drop without thinking, but Manuel treasured it 
 up with those few words of cheer she gave him 
 when he started on his first expedition. 
 
 Jonquille, as she spoke, bent over Manuel's 
 shoulder to kiss Pierre with a mother's tender- 
 ness ; her curls brushed the young man's fore- 
 head and sent a sudden thrill through him. He 
 
 O 
 
 turned round to look at her; their eyes met, and
 
 1 64 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 she smiled. Once before she had smiled on him, 
 and the sweetness was almost sad, it was so 
 fugitive. 
 
 ' It was Manuel's doing that we got you. back 
 at last,' said Jonquille in a tone full of thank- 
 fulness. 
 
 ' Did I go off as I have done before ? ' said 
 Pierre in a dreamy voice. 
 
 ' Yes ; and you went so far away, and were 
 such a long time coming back. Don't go away 
 again like that, dear Pierre.' 
 
 He looked steadily at her, as if he would have 
 liked to say something, but he did not speak. 
 
 Jonquille took his hands eagerly and seemed 
 to read his face. 
 
 ' Don't tire yourself with talking,' she said ; 
 ' you. must keep quiet after this attack. Manuel, 
 stay where you are ; for he is better in your arms 
 than in the bed. Stay there, my darling,' she 
 added to Pierre ; ' I am j ust going downstairs to 
 get something ready for you to make you strong.' 
 
 She went away, shutting the door quietly, 
 and Manuel and Pierre were left alone. After a 
 moment's pause Pierre began 
 
 ' You helped Jonquille to nurse me, didn't 
 you, when I when I had gone ? '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 165 
 
 ' Yes, my boy.' 
 
 ' And you will never say again that Jonquille 
 is a boy, will you ? ' 
 
 Manuel felt himself blushing to the roots of 
 his hair. 
 
 ' No, never/ he said in a low voice. 
 
 After that they both remained silent till 
 Jonquille returned with some kind of cordial 
 which Pierre drank to please her. Then he 
 said, ' I am tired ; I had better go to bed.' 
 
 Manuel, thinking that the brother and sister 
 would now prefer to be alone together, left them, 
 after telling Jonquille to call him if she wanted 
 anything. He went downstairs, and taking his 
 pistol from the cupboard, where he had left it 
 the day before, he settled himself by the garden 
 wall, with his tools near him. What was he 
 thinking about while he scoured and arranged 
 his pistol ? . . . Strange to say, his thoughts 
 turned to the need of eamino; more money. 
 
 O ^ 
 
 Many people have this idea constantly floating 
 in their minds, but Manuel had rarely been 
 troubled by it except in moments of need. His 
 tastes had always been simple, and his small 
 earnings were usually enough for him ; but 
 to-day he felt ambitious. He might, if he had
 
 1 66 
 
 cared, have found out the reason of this change ; 
 but he did not wish to question his motives too 
 closely. 
 
 ' It is time,' he said to himself, ' that I should 
 begin to save up some money ; who can tell what 
 might happen ? I might have an accident, which 
 would prevent my working for months, and then 
 I should have to go to the Poorhouse, which 
 wouldn't be pleasant. Or if I want to set up 
 some business, I should need capital for that. 
 Money is necessary for everything. Xow take 
 Jonquille just as an instance. Would she accept 
 a penniless husband ? And I it's all " suppose," 
 for if I think of her, as I do sometimes, she 
 certainly doesn't think of me could I go and 
 ask her unless I could say to her, " Trust 
 me ; I can give you and Pierre everything you 
 could want ? " 
 
 Then he began to reckon up Oh ! just to see 
 how much it might cost, not seriously, he began 
 to calculate how much it would cost to furnish 
 two rooms for Jonquille and Pierre, and how 
 much it would cost three persons to keep house. 
 It was all just a castle in the air, he said to 
 himself ; but he had a plan in his head, and this 
 was it. After working for Constant Loison's
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 167 
 
 profit for a fortnight, in order to pay his entrance - 
 fee, as it were, he would set up for himself. Why 
 should not he risk his small savings ? Was it 
 right that Constant should get all the profits ? 
 He slept soundly in his warm bed while his 
 companions were risking their lives on the edge 
 of a precipice. His money grew while he 
 slept. And why 1 Because he had saved some 
 crowns, and the crowns brought forth children, 
 as the smugglers expressed it. Manuel himself 
 had some crowns put by, and why should not 
 he too put them out to interest ? He would 
 buy goods, take them across the frontier himself, 
 and find customers; thus he would double his 
 gains. Manuel rose eagerly from his seat, im- 
 patient to begin ; the night seemed so slow in 
 coming. 
 
 ' If only a large party assembled to-night, what 
 a, hole they would make in the heap of bales in 
 the dark cupboard, and how much they might 
 get through if they would only work the next 
 night too ! .But no; they must be prudent, and 
 not rouse the suspicions of the Custom-House 
 officers. How will Constant take the news 
 when I tell him of my plans? 1 must find sonic 
 \vay of smoothing him down.
 
 1 68 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Manuel had looked forward to dining alone 
 with Jonquille ; but his hopes were disappointed, 
 for two or three smugglers arrived at twelve 
 o'clock. Jonquille laid the table for them and 
 put the dishes on, after which she went up to 
 Pierre and did not come down again till quite 
 late in the afternoon. 
 
 Manuel was vexed ; he thought he had become 
 more intimate with Jonquille, and now she 
 treated him with the same indifference as the 
 others. 
 
 Had he not watched with her in her distress 
 gone through the same anxiety done his best to 
 help her ? That hour together in the sickroom 
 was a link between them. Why did she now 
 seem to wish to break it ? 
 
 After dinner they went to lounge at the 
 skittle-ground as usual. Manuel began to feel 
 very sleepy, and lying down on a board fell 
 fast asleep, with his head pillowed on his arms, 
 and neither the noise of the balls nor his com- 
 rades' talk could disturb him. When he woke 
 the sun was setting, the game was over, and the 
 smuo'O'lers were sitting on the bank talking. 
 
 OO O o 
 
 Arsene Leroux and Firm in were seated in the 
 middle of the group, but Manuel remarked that
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 169 
 
 one of the band was not there. When he drew 
 near they made room for him ; for they no longer 
 looked on him as an intruder, but showed him 
 some cordiality. Firmin was biting his beard 
 and looking annoyed, the others looked grave, 
 and the talk seemed less lively than usual. 
 
 ' Pierre is ill,' said Manuel's neighbour, jog- 
 ging his elbow. 
 
 The young man started. 
 
 ' How do you know ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Jonquil! e has sent Michel to fetch the doctor,' 
 answered the other. 
 
 Manuel sprang up exclaiming, ' And you let 
 me sleep there without telling me ? ' 
 
 ' Jonquille forbade us. She would not let 
 Arsene or Firmin go, though they both offered. 
 She said you three must be tired on account of 
 last nifrht, and you must save your strength for 
 
 O ' J J O 
 
 to-night.' 
 
 Manuel shrugged his shoulders impatiently. 
 
 ' That's nonsense ! you ouo-ht to have woke me 
 
 */ O 
 
 ii}). . . . Michel do you really mean Mich el that 
 short, stout fellow who gets out of breath directly 
 he goes uphill '. It will take him two hours to 
 get to the village, while I could have run all the 
 way.' Then forgetting his annoyance, as he grew
 
 i?o THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 anxious about the boy, he added, ' Is Pierre much 
 worse, then ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; he was unconscious for a long time this 
 morning, and Jonquille was dreadfully frightened ; 
 and now he is in pain, poor little fellow ! but 
 perhaps the doctor may be able to give him 
 something to soothe him.' 
 
 Manuel -made no remark. He would not for 
 the world have let the others know that he had 
 spent an hour of anxious watching with Jonquille 
 beside the unconscious boy. He walked away, 
 full of uneasy, jealous thoughts, which seemed to 
 crowd into his mind. Why did Jonquille choose 
 another messenger, with the excuse that it was 
 to spare him fatigue ? No ; that was not the 
 reason. She liked to scatter her favours all 
 round. That dawdling fellow Michel would 
 reach the village too late : the doctor would be 
 
 O 3 
 
 off on his rounds ; Michel would not be able to 
 find him, and he would never have the sense to 
 go to the chemist and ask him for some advice 
 or for some soothing draught. Whilst, if it had 
 been he, Manuel, he would have pursued the 
 doctor and brought him here somehow ; and all 
 this time Pierre was in pain, and his sister im- 
 patiently and anxiously watching. . . . Manuel
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 171 
 
 was in the midst of these reflections when he 
 saw two men coming down the path ; they were 
 Michel and the doctor. The latter had been on 
 his way to see a patient at the Saut du Doubs, 
 and had met Jonquille's messenger on the road 
 and turned back with him at once. When he 
 came into the yard all the smugglers touched 
 their hats, and Michel, proud of his good luck, 
 stopped to tell them about it, while the doctor 
 went into the house. 
 
 ' Haven't you said enough about it ? ' said 
 Manuel impatiently. ' You had luck, that's all. 
 You needn't boast about it.' 
 
 Firmin, who was also jealous, made a similar 
 remark, and Michel, who was slow in repartee, 
 found himself ' snubbed,' as he bitterly expressed 
 it, 
 
 In the meantime, Manuel had been watching 
 the windows of Pierre's room and wondering 
 anxiously what was going on up there. He 
 walked up to the house and pushed open the 
 door, which stood ajar. The kitchen, which 
 opened on to the narrow passage, was empty. He 
 waited for ten minutes and then the doctor's step 
 made the stairs croak, and he heard the rustle of 
 a dress, as Joiupiille followed the doctor down.
 
 172 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' I want to know what you really think? Don't 
 hide the truth from me.' 
 
 ' Oh, my good girl !' said the doctor brusquely, 
 ' you know as well as I do what I think. As I 
 have told you before, we cannot cure Pierre ; it 
 is wonderful that we have kept him with us so 
 long. Just take care that he has everything 
 that he needs ; if the pain comes on, give him 
 the soothing draught, of which you have the pre- 
 scription. Feed him well ; let him be in the sun- 
 shine and the fresh air; that's all you can do. 7 
 
 ' And then I shall keep him a long time yet ; 
 shan't I, doctor ? ' 
 
 ' My poor girl,' said the doctor, putting his 
 hand kindly on her shoulder, ' he hangs to life 
 by a thread, but nurse him as if you could make 
 him well ; for every day is so much gained.' 
 
 Then he went out and Jonquille w T ent slowly 
 back, with drooping head, through the narrow 
 passage. She stopped at the foot of the stairs 
 and hid her face in her hands ; then hearing a 
 footstep, she looked up and saw Manuel standing 
 before her, but she did not feel surprised. He 
 took both her hands, and she let him do it ; and 
 thus they stood face to face for one moment, 
 though it seemed much longer, yet neither said
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 173 
 
 a word till Jonquille, suddenly snatching her 
 hands away, and clasping them convulsively be- 
 hind her, said 
 
 ' The doctor looks at the dark side of things, 
 but tell me what you think about it.' 
 
 ' I think,' he answered tenderly, ' that affec- 
 tionate care may do a great deal.' 
 
 ' Oh ! how kind you are ; you see how it is. 
 Yes ; I shall keep my boy a while longer my 
 Pierre. I have no one but him/ she added sadly. 
 
 And now, in spite of her brave spirit, she burst 
 into tears, with her head clasped in her hands, 
 leaning against the wall. She wept long and 
 bitterly, trembling and sobbing as she murmured, 
 ' My Pierre my own boy.' 
 
 Manuel, as he watched her grief, felt a strange 
 choking in his throat the tearless sob of a strong 
 man. He longed to take Jonquillc in his arms, 
 to press her to his heart, and to whisper words 
 of passionate tenderness, lie had never been 
 able to see a woman cry without feeling moved, 
 but to see Itcr It seemed to Manuel as if 
 
 some strong hand was trying to stop the beating 
 of his heart. He could not say a word, and his 
 blood seemed to boil with impatience at seeing 
 this in'ief, which he could not comfort.
 
 174 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Jonquille had sunk down on the last step of 
 the stairs, and was trying to control her tears ; 
 and he sat down by her and put his arm round 
 her, as a tender and pitiful brother might have 
 done, rather than a passionate lover, as he saw 
 her slight figure still shaken with sobs. 
 
 ' Don't cry any more,' he said. ' Come, let us 
 be brave ; let me help you to nurse him. I will 
 be a brother to him, and to you too, Jonquille, if 
 you won't let me be anything else.' 
 
 He spoke with a sudden impulse, hardly con- 
 scious of what he was saying. He stopped, 
 surprised at this revelation of himself, for it 
 seemed as if the secret of his heart had taken 
 voice suddenly, and his own words had shown 
 him what was hidden in the depths of his being. 
 
 Jonquille remained silent. Had she not 
 understood ? 
 
 She got up suddenly. 
 
 ' I must not leave Pierre alone,' she said in a 
 low voice. 
 
 Manuel stood Up also, saying 
 
 ' Where is that prescription the doctor spoke 
 of ? Let me take it to the village to be made 
 up.' 
 
 ' There is no need to-day,' she said. ' It is
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 175 
 
 the same he has ordered before, and there is 
 a bottle half full upstairs.' 
 
 Manuel was disappointed. He would have 
 liked to do something for her at once. 
 
 ' Why did you send Michel this afternoon 
 instead of me ? ' he asked, as she went upstairs. 
 ' Promise me that in future you will always send 
 me to do your errands.' 
 
 She only shook her head. 
 
 ' I don't like promises. I never make any.' 
 
 Manuel felt it hard to answer quietly. He 
 was vexed that, after being allowed to share her 
 sorrow, she should now keep him at a distance ; 
 she seemed to take away with one hand what 
 she gave with the other. 
 
 ' But some day you will have to make a 
 promise, so you may as well begin now, so as to 
 get accustomed. You must promise, Jonquille ; 
 do you hear ? ' 
 
 No one had yet spoken to her like that. She 
 tried to resist, but lie held her wrist tightly in 
 his right hand, while he barred her way with the 
 other. She looked up, cold and proud, and the 
 light of the little \vindow at the top of the stairs 
 fell on her as she stood with sparkling eyes and 
 tangled hair.
 
 1 76 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' You must/ said Manuel ; ' I have no right 
 to say must, it is true, but I cannot endure your 
 caprices any longer.' 
 
 ' You are hurting me,' she said. 
 
 He at once let go her wrist, and saw the white 
 marks of his fingers on it till the blood rushed back 
 suddenly and turned them into dark red lines. 
 
 ' I beg your pardon,' he said in a low voice, 
 feeling ashamed of himself. 
 
 She stood silent, looking at her wrist. He 
 was expecting a torrent of angry words, but she 
 bent towards him from where she stood, two 
 steps above him, and putting a finger on his 
 shoulder, said 
 
 ' I promise, not because you say " I must," 
 but because / choose.' 
 
 Then she ran away. 
 
 Manuel went out, with his mind full of what 
 had happened in that short time. He could not 
 quite understand it. They were not engaged, 
 and yet they seemed to have been urged on by 
 some strange power to reveal feelings which 
 should have remained concealed a little longer. 
 Their words, though vague and indefinite, had 
 lit up like a flash of lightning the dark corners 
 of their hearts. The darkness returned, and yet
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 177 
 
 it was not the same as before. There might still 
 be doubts, but each knew something which till 
 then had remained hidden. 
 
 Manuel avoided the society of his comrades 
 till supper -time, during which he sat silent. 
 Mother Salome had returned, and no one asked 
 for Jonquille, though every one missed her. 
 Manuel remarked that more brandy than usual 
 was drunk. Just as they were starting for their 
 night's work, Jonquille appeared. 
 
 ' Good-night to you, my lads, and good luck/ 
 she said. ' My mother will row you across to- 
 night instead of me, When Pierre gets well, I 
 will sing you as many songs as you like.' 
 
 Then she beckoned to Manuel. 
 
 ' Pierre would like to say good-night to you ; 
 come.' 
 
 He followed her, and found Pierre lying 
 back on his pillows, looking as pale as when 
 Manuel held him in his arms, but his eyes 
 were bright and thoughtful. lie smiled when 
 he saw Manuel. 
 
 ' I wish you good luck and a pleasant 
 journey,' he said. 'You will come back to- 
 morrow, won't you ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, certainly. Are you better, Pierre ? ' 
 
 N
 
 1 78 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 1 Much better ; I shall be quite well to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 Manuel, strange to say, had never kissed any 
 one since his mother died, when he was five 
 years old. His father was not given to caresses, 
 and later on, his solitary life had made him more 
 reserved even than he naturally was. But he 
 was strongly drawn to Pierre. He felt for him 
 a strange mixture of tender pity and reverence, 
 and as he stood looking at his pale face, he sud- 
 denly stooped down and gave Pierre a true, 
 brotherly kiss, and then, rather shyly and awk- 
 wardly, left the room. Jonquille followed him, 
 holding the lamp so as to light the staircase. 
 
 ' He will want some one to sit up with him 
 to-night,' said Manuel, as he stood there. ' Will 
 you let me stay and watch ? ' 
 
 ' No,' she said ; ' it would be against our rules. 
 None of the lads have ever spent a night in 
 this house. Besides, my mother or I can sit 
 by him.' 
 
 She no longer spoke abruptly and drily, but 
 rather seemed to wish to soften her refusal. 
 Manuel left her and rejoined his comrades. 
 
 They went off into the darkness, but the 
 young man's thoughts hovered like a fluttering
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 179 
 
 moth around the dim light which shone from 
 Pierre's window. He walked on, with his head 
 bent and his mind full of a thousand thoughts, 
 scarcely heeding where he was going, but follow- 
 ing Arsene Leroux, who plodded on in his usual 
 heavy, mechanical manner. 
 
 When they reached the grocer's cottage his 
 comrades tried to rouse him from his reveries, 
 and make him drink ; but he sat apart, with 
 his elbows on his knees, trying to master the 
 strange, new thoughts which seemed to over- 
 power him. 
 
 How could he wait another week before 
 carrying out his plan ? He was so eager to 
 set to work that he would gladly have leaped 
 over this week in his life to get to the end 
 of it. But as he could not do this, he had to live 
 through these seven days somehow, and spent 
 them partly in three or four expeditions, by 
 means of which the dark cupboard was com- 
 pletely emptied of bales ; partly in nursing 
 Pierre and carrvino 1 him out daily for a walk. 
 
 i/ O / 
 
 which was an unfailing source of pleasure to 
 the lad. Manuel meantime avoided any more 
 confidential talk with Joiiquille, until he could 
 lay his plans definitely before her.
 
 i8o THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 At length, one morning when he considered 
 himself free from his engagement with Constant 
 Loison, he went off to the town, and reached the 
 factory gate when the midday bell was ringing. 
 He waited for the workmen to come out, and 
 soon Constant appeared on the steps, and 
 seemed surprised when he recognised his com- 
 rade. 
 
 ' Are you going to dine with me ? ' he asked, 
 with some embarrassment, for the workmen were 
 watching Manuel. They had heard a rumour 
 that he had joined the smugglers, and looked at 
 him curiously, as he stood carelessly waiting 
 while they filed by. Constant had no wish to 
 take Manuel to the eating-house, where he would 
 meet other workmen. ' We will dine together 
 in my room, or rather in yours,' he said. ' You 
 shall see how much care I take of your furniture ; 
 I rub and polish it up myself, and it looks 
 fresher every day.' 
 
 Then he ordered a dish from the nearest 
 eating-house, and Manuel set to work on it 
 with a good appetite. 
 
 ' How is our business getting on ? ' asked 
 Constant. 
 
 ' A'ery well. Here is the account which
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 181 
 
 Firmin has drawn up for you. All the goods 
 have been delivered, and paid for on the spot. 
 Here is the money.' 
 
 Manuel drew out of his pocket a small canvas 
 bag and put it on the table, saying 
 
 ' Firmin has deducted the pay for the men, 
 according to the agreement. They were all paid 
 up last night. The bill is on a card in the bag. 
 You must give me a receipt for Firmin.' 
 
 Constant ran his eye down the column of 
 figures, and added them up in a low voice. 
 
 ' So you have been lucky every time, and had 
 no drawbacks nothing confiscated ? Yet I don't 
 get much profit, after all.' 
 
 'Nor much trouble, either,' said Manuel, in a 
 slightly ironical tone. 
 
 ' Trouble, indeed ! . . . Don't I risk my money, 
 and have all the anxiety ? And yet I barely 
 get three per cent on my capital.' 
 
 ' Not more than that ? ' said his future rival, 
 a little disappointed. 
 
 ' Not a centime more, on my honour. Just 
 look yourself. I have no secrets from vou, my 
 
 J J */ 
 
 dear fellow.' 
 
 Manuel's inexperienced eyes looked at rows 
 of figures without being much the wiser. They
 
 182 
 
 only seemed to show him that Constant's profits 
 were small, and that the expenses swallowed up 
 a great deal, for Manuel understood too little 
 about money and investments to know that 
 three per cent for a week is equal to one 
 hundred and fifty per cent for a year. And 
 thus Constant, in spite of his lamentations, 
 more than doubled his capital by the end of 
 the year. 
 
 ' If it is like this,' said Manuel, ' I shan't 
 make you lose much, for you get very little 
 profit by me.' 
 
 ' Ha ! what do you mean ? ' said Constant, who 
 was quite taken aback. 
 
 ' I came to-day on purpose to tell you about 
 it. Don't count on me any longer ; I have 
 brought you back good luck, and that was all 
 you wanted, wasn't it ? ' 
 
 1 Stop a minute ; what does all this mean ? 
 Are you going back to the factory ? ' 
 
 ' No, thank you ; I like a smuggler's life 
 better, and I mean to remain one ; only I intend 
 to set up on my own account. I thought, before 
 I came here to-day, that I could earn a good lot 
 by it, but I see that I reckoned on more butter 
 than bread. But all the better, it makes my
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 183 
 
 conscience easy about you ; for if you only gain 
 three per cent on the whole band, you won't lose 
 much by my absence.' 
 
 Constant stopped eating, and sat with his 
 eyes and mouth wide open, and his fork up in 
 the air, as if his breath had been suddenly taken 
 away by being put under an air-pump. Then 
 he lowered his fork slowly, like a flag which is 
 hauled down in sign of defeat, and his look of 
 stupefaction changed into one of malice 
 
 ' Ah ! ' he said, ' you mean to compete with 
 me.' 
 
 ' No ; I shall go farther away and find fresh 
 customers ; what can it matter to you ? ' 
 
 ' The other lads will want to follow your 
 example, and then I shall get no one.' 
 
 ' They haven't got money enough ; they must 
 work for yon.' 
 
 ' You think so ? Why, they would borrow 
 from the devil to set up for themselves and do 
 as you're doing ! ' 
 
 If they are able to do it, I don't see why 
 they shouldn't,' said Manuel coldly ; adding, 
 ' Pray, do you think it just that thev should 
 spend their lives earning a nice little sum for you T 
 
 'They are \\vll paid, and 1 run all the risks.'
 
 1 84 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' I don't say that you don't run the risks ; but 
 if they choose to try another plan, as I intend to 
 do, have you any right to stop them ? ' 
 
 ' I should like to have the right ! ' cried Con- 
 stant in a passion ; ' and they should soon see 
 what I would do.' 
 
 ' But, my good fellow, you haven't the right, 
 and I don't see why you should get so angry, as 
 you might get better interest for your money ; 
 the Savings Bank would give you four per cent.' 
 
 Constant could make no reply ; he was caught 
 in his own trap. He remained silent, meditating 
 some great revenge ; but, in the meanwhile, he 
 contented himself with a little petty act of spite, 
 and began hacking with his knife on the edges 
 of Manuel's table. 
 
 ' Spare my furniture, if you please,' said the 
 latter ; ' is that the way you freshen it up every 
 day ? But now I am willing to make up the 
 loss to you.' 
 
 Constant listened attentively while Manuel 
 went on : 'I have worked seven nights for you ; 
 but I am ready to refund my pay if you like, 
 and here it is.' He pulled some coins out of 
 his pocket, and put them in a little heap on the 
 table. ' This shall be the price of my introduc-
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 185 
 
 tion into the band, for I have not forgotten that 
 it was you who introduced me.' 
 
 ' I have not forgotten it either, and I shall 
 rue it for many a day,' muttered Constant, as, 
 with no sign of shame or hesitation, he laid hands 
 on the money before him. 
 
 Manuel got up, saying, ' Give me the key of 
 my chest.' 
 
 Constant threw a key on the table, and Manuel 
 took it and opened his chest ; he examined his 
 strong box, which was safe in its corner, and 
 took out the seventy francs it contained, and put 
 them in his pocket. Then he collected his tools, 
 amonu which was a valuable graver, which had 
 
 O o J 
 
 belonged to his father, for which lie hoped to 
 get a hundred and fifty francs, and carried them 
 to an agent to be sold at the next auction. As 
 lie was coming back he met Constant on the 
 stairs o-omo- off to his work, and the two men 
 
 o O 
 
 exchanged looks not altogether friendly. Manuel, 
 however, not wishing to part on bad terms with 
 his old comrade, held out his hand, saying 
 
 'Come, don't bear me a grudge, old fellow; 
 there is room enough in the world for us both. 
 
 O 
 
 and my little business will not interfere at all 
 with yours.'
 
 1 86 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Constant would not look up as he passed ; 
 but at the foot of the stairs he called out 
 
 ' Good luck, good luck to you,' in a sneering 
 voice. 
 
 Manuel, having received thirty francs as an 
 advance on the price of his tools, found his purse 
 well filled, and went off to a tobacco merchant, 
 where he bought a good stock, and got dis- 
 count for his ready money. The merchant soon 
 guessed the kind of customer he had, for he 
 supplied many of the smugglers on the frontier. 
 Sometimes his shop would be filled with a 
 number of villagers from Franche Comte, who 
 had made a pilgrimage to the shrine at Einsie- 
 deln with their priest, and now on their journey 
 homewards they filled their pockets with tobacco, 
 delighted to combine a stroke of business with 
 an act of piety. The merchant offered to supply 
 Manuel on good terms, and gave him a wink, as 
 much as to say, ' I know what you are about,' 
 which amused Manuel. He took away his pur- 
 chases in a hand-cart, which was lent to him for 
 t\vo days, but which he determined to buy as 
 soon as he had earned enough. He intended 
 keeping to the tobacco business, as he did not 
 wish to injure the watch trade of his own canton
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 187 
 
 by supplying any works for watches to the 
 French manufacturers. 
 
 When he reached Mother Salome's house, all 
 his former comrades were assembled outside. 
 At the sight of the cart full of bales they ex- 
 claimed, ' All right, here's a cargo from Constant ; 
 we were afraid we should be at a standstill to- 
 night.' 
 
 ' The cargo is mine/ said Manuel. 
 
 They looked at him with surprise. 
 
 ' So you have funds enough to set up for 
 yourself,' said Firmin, half astonished and half 
 annoyed ; ' is your American uncle dead ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know ; he hasn't sent me word,' said 
 Manuel, who detected jealousy in Firmin's tone, 
 and wished to unfold his plans to Jonquille first.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Manuel had put his cart in the shed, he 
 went into the house to look for the young girl 
 and found Mother Salome, who told him that 
 Jonquille was upstairs. Manuel, therefore, went 
 up to Pierre's room, where he was always welcome 
 to go. Jonquille blushed when she saw him 
 come in and got up to leave. She had remarked 
 that Manuel had avoided her during the last 
 week, and she was too proud not to avoid him 
 in return. 
 
 ' Don't go away,' said the young man ; ' for 
 I came on purpose to speak to you.' 
 
 She sat down, and Manuel went up to Pierre 
 and put his hand gently on the boy's shoulder ; 
 lie knew Pierre's love for his sister, and hoped 
 to find him friendly to his suit. Though he had 
 come without any definite plan how he would 
 put the important question, yet he was im-
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 189 
 
 patient and eager to settle the matter as quickly 
 as possible, and now his heart beat as if it would 
 jump into his mouth while he was in the presence 
 of Jonquille, who sat with her eyes down, giving 
 him no encouragement, so that he did not know 
 how to begin. 
 
 What he had to say was so simple that it 
 might be expressed in three words ; but he 
 thought that perhaps a young girl might like 
 to have a solemn proposal of marriage made in 
 a set speech, just as you wrap a sugar -plum 
 up in gilt paper. All this was in his mind, 
 and at last he resolved, in his awkward way, 
 which hid a natural, chivalrous feeling, to make 
 a speech. 
 
 Pierre looked up at him with surprise, and 
 Jonquille felt that something was going to 
 happen. She no longer bent her eyes down 
 but looked towards the window, just showing 
 the graceful outline of her cheek and her little 
 ear, half hidden under the curls which drooped 
 over her slender neck. Manuel looked at her 
 earnestly, and felt that now lie knew whv no 
 other girl had touched his heart there was no 
 other like Jonquille. lie felt that she was 
 beautiful, though he did not stay to analyse
 
 1 90 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 her charms. Her pride and independence only 
 made her seem dearer to him. She was so full 
 of contrasts, so piquant, he was not yet sure 
 whether she might not refuse him, and this 
 uncertainty made him all the more eager to 
 win, and stirred his combative nature. 
 
 ' Mademoiselle Jonquille,' he began suddenly 
 in a solemn voice too solemn perhaps for the 
 occasion, but the tone was manly and earnest, 
 ' I want to tell you how it happened. I suppose 
 you know what I am talking 1 of ? ' 
 
 */ O 
 
 ' Yes,' answered Jonquille ; she would have 
 said ' No ' if she had been a fashionable young 
 lady. 
 
 ' First of all, I wanted to set up in business 
 for myself, and that is now arranged, and there 
 is no fear of my not getting on. Constant's 
 very angry, but I don't care a button for that ' 
 (here he felt that he was getting on a wrong 
 tack). ' However, I don't need to speak of him ; 
 I wish to tell you, Mademoiselle Jonquille, that 
 I have now a settled occupation, and I am not 
 afraid of work. When my tools are sold I shall 
 have, counting my savings too, about three 
 hundred francs, which I mean to invest in 
 goods ; and then, by making three or four
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 191 
 
 journeys a week with my own bales, I can 
 earn about forty francs.' 
 
 He stopped, hoping to receive some encourage- 
 ment, but Jonquille still sat with her head turned 
 away. Manuel was obliged to go on, and wiping 
 his forehead with his hand, for this speech was 
 hard work, he continued, ' I have also some 
 furniture.' 
 
 ' What has all this to do with me ?' interrupted 
 Jonquil! e brusquely. ' What do I care about 
 your furniture or your savings or your forty 
 francs a week ? ' 
 
 ' It does concern you,' he said gravely ; ' for I 
 offer them all to you, and ask you to be my wife,' 
 
 He was very much surprised when she began 
 to laugh and say, ' You should have put that 
 first.' ^ 
 
 Pierre seemed to take the matter to heart 
 more than his sister, and looked perplexed and 
 sympathetic. 
 
 'Now, Jonquille,' continued Manuel, 'please 
 to give me an answer. I have told you plainly 
 what I can offer you. I have loved you for 
 these last ten days, and before that 1 admired 
 you very much : I am afraid 1 don't know how 
 to express myself; but you seem to know more
 
 192 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 about such tilings than I do,' and he looked 
 proudly and reproachfully at her. 
 
 ' It seems so, indeed,' she said, with a little 
 ironical smile ; ' I suppose you never made an 
 offer before.' 
 
 Manuel stood looking at her, and felt his love 
 growing stronger every moment. 
 
 ' Answer him, Jonquille/ said Pierre ' do 
 answer him, for he is very much in earnest. Why 
 do you laugh ? ' 
 
 His sister stroked his cheek gently, then said 
 suddenly 
 
 'You shall answer for me/ 
 
 Manuel observed that she blushed as she 
 spoke, and the blood mounted to her temples. 
 Pierre looked at her sadly and gravely. 
 
 ' She wishes to think it over,' he said at last, 
 turning to Manuel ; ' will you please wait till 
 this evening for an answer, and forgive her for 
 laughing ; she knows very well at the bottom of 
 her heart that you mean it seriously ? ' 
 
 Jonquille made no remark, but turned her 
 head again towards the window while Manuel 
 went away. Then she came and sat close by 
 her brother, pressing her forehead on the back 
 of his chair, and said in a low voice
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 193 
 
 < I think I shall say "Yes."' 
 
 ' Why did you not say so at once ? ' 
 
 ' Because, though though I love him, I am 
 afraid of him.' 
 
 ' Afraid of him ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' she answered; ' for I have never obeyed 
 anybody, and he will be master, and not a 
 very patient one. If he had waited a little I 
 might have learnt in time to be more yielding.' 
 Then after a moment's silence she asked, 
 ' Pierre, do you think that I should make a 
 good wife ? ' 
 
 ' You are a good sister,' he answered gently. 
 
 They were silent after this, and Jonquille sat 
 long at the window, which looked on the river, 
 and watched the stream flowing on and on, as 
 life does day by day. 
 
 While Manuel had been thus occupied, Con- 
 stant Loison had arrived; he thought that it 
 was high time that he should look after his 
 affairs. He had hired a boy to drag a hand- 
 cart full of floods ; but when he saw Manuel's 
 
 O 
 
 stock lying in the shed he became wild with 
 anger, and his first impulse was to wreak it on 
 some one ; the nearest object being the poor 
 b<v who was unlading his sioods. and who 
 
 / O O 
 

 
 194 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 thought his master had gone mad when he felt 
 his tight grip on his arm, and saw his face 
 distorted with rage. The boy jumped aside, 
 but Constant had already recovered himself, and 
 felt that he had been a fool to let his real feel- 
 ings show themselves. 
 
 ' I am afraid I hurt you, my boy,' he said in 
 an apologetic tone. ' It's a nervous cramp that 
 seizes me now and again, and I must grip some- 
 thing then.' 
 
 ' Then I wish you would grip the shaft of the 
 cart another time,' grumbled the unfortunate 
 boy, rubbing his arm. 
 
 When the goods had been stored, Constant 
 rejoined his comrades who were lounging about 
 in the yard. He said nothing, but he looked, 
 as Firmin said, as threatening as a loaded cannon. 
 
 ' Here's news,' said one of the smugglers ; 
 ' Manuel is tired of being in the rank and file, 
 and is setting up to be a general.'' 
 
 ' A general, with no money,' growled Firmiu. 
 ' I, for one, won't follow his lead.' 
 
 ' He won't care,' said Constant ; ' he will 
 trample over you all as well as over me he 
 will skin you all, my good fellows.' 
 
 ' How so ? ' thev all asked.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 195 
 
 ' He is ambitious and revolutionary ; I ought 
 to have known it before I enlisted him. I am 
 well punished for it ; he has played me a pretty 
 trick, and your turn will come soon.' 
 
 ' Explain yourself more clearly/ said Firmin. 
 ' Don't think we shall take a scarecrow for a man.' 
 
 Constant felt that he must strike home now. 
 
 ' You will see that this beardless boy ' 
 
 ' He has more beard than you have/ interrupted 
 Firmin. 
 
 ' Will snatch Jonquille from us/ continued 
 Constant, not paying any heed to the interruption. 
 
 He was talking at random, for he was quite 
 unaware that Manuel had a better chance to 
 gain the prize than the others ; but he knew that 
 he was touching on a sore point which they 
 would all feel. They crowded round him witli 
 questions 
 
 ' Have you observed anything ? Is he courting 
 her ? ' 
 
 " Is he courting? AVhy, he's IJut no, I 
 
 won't tell you any more.' 
 
 Constant was too prudent to give any details 
 which might be instantlv and flatlv contradicted. 
 But the fact that he said so little only made the 
 other men curious and anu'rv ; he added, in a
 
 196 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 tone meant to seem impartial, ' He is a fine lad ; 
 better-looking than any of us.' 
 
 ' Speak for yourself, you calf-head!' exclaimed 
 Firmin, whose vanity was sorely wounded by 
 this remark. 
 
 The epithet did not seem inappropriate to 
 Constant, with his light eyebrows and prominent 
 eyes, and the simple look he chose sometimes 
 to wear. The whole circle laughed loudly, and 
 Constant, enraged, let his cloven foot be seen. 
 
 'Laugh, laugh, you fools!' he cried; 'you 
 won't feel so ready to laugh when Manuel has 
 all the business in his hands, and is your captain 
 to order you about as he likes, or dismiss you 
 when he chooses. Ah I you won't like either to 
 see him carry off Jonquille as his prize.' 
 
 There was a murmur of anger and astonish- 
 ment among the men. Constant went on 
 
 ' You had nothing of all this to fear from me. 
 I am no climber of passes ; I had to trust you to 
 do all that, and if you had chosen to strike I 
 should have been sold ; but Manuel can do his 
 own work if needful without you. You will 
 see, my boys, that he has caught us all in a 
 trap.' 
 
 Arsrne Leroux shook his head.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 197 
 
 ' I don't understand,' he muttered, for his slow 
 comprehension had not been stirred to anger by 
 these vague prophecies of coming evil ; then he 
 added slowly, ' Manuel is a good fellow.' 
 
 Neither had Firmin been convinced by Con- 
 stant's angry speech, and he now came forward 
 and stood in the centre of the group, with his 
 pipe in his mouth, and began to address them 
 
 ' Friends It is now my turn to speak, for 
 I think that this honourable gentleman has 
 occupied your time long enough. I, for my part, 
 think that his speech is terribly wanting in 
 logic, and without that what are we ? It is 
 logic which distinguishes us from the irra- 
 tional creatures. Now I can argue in proper 
 logical form, and state three propositions thus : 
 Those who carry on smuggling, are smugglers. 
 
 */ O O O J C^ O 
 
 \Ve carry on smuggling, therefore we are 
 smugglers. After proving this, as vou see I 
 
 C?O 1 O / 
 
 have done, I go on to say that Manuel has 
 
 ' O / 
 
 started on his own account, and that displeases 
 me, for it disturbs equality; now equality is 
 one of the watchwords of our glorious Revolu- 
 tion Libert v. Equality, Fraternity: long live 
 the .Republic! but no\v I don't see that this 
 will prevent our band going on smuggling as
 
 198 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 usual ; let the former speaker explain himself 
 further.' 
 
 But now all eyes were turned to the house, 
 for Manuel had just appeared on the threshold. 
 He observed that they became silent and cast 
 angry looks at him as he drew near, but he was 
 so full of his own disturbed thoughts that he did 
 not pay much attention to what was going on 
 around him. He wanted to be alone to think 
 over everything that had happened. How could 
 he wait so many hours for Jonquille's answer, 
 and what would that answer be ? He thought it 
 a bad si<m that she asked for time to reflect 
 
 O 
 
 that o-enerally meant that time is wanted to find 
 
 o J 
 
 polite language to soften a refusal. If she meant 
 to say No, why not say it at once ? Was she 
 afraid that he would urge his suit still more ? 
 She did not care how much he suffered, and then 
 he went over all he had said, which he had meant 
 to be so respectful and loyal, and which only 
 seemed to afford her amusement. 
 
 ' If I had another chance I would put it differ- 
 ently,' he said to himself ; ' I would show her 
 that I am not a willow wand to be bent any way 
 or to be twisted round her finger.' Then suddenly 
 a great wave of love rose up in his heart and
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 199 
 
 quenched the bitter thoughts. lie walked 
 hastily along the path among the trees, which 
 hid the river and Jonquille's home from him ; 
 then he sat down for a moment and tried to 
 recover himself, but he could not sit quiet long ; 
 he got up and walked on and on aimlessly and 
 hurriedly, sometimes pausing to press his fore- 
 head against the trunk of a beech, and murmur- 
 ing passionate words. 
 
 ' Jonquille, Jonquille ! I must win her, she is 
 full of caprices. Never mind, I must win her my 
 Jonquille, my darling ; others have admired her 
 too, and have dared to tell her their love. How 
 dared they, the rascals ? ' 
 
 And lie ground his teeth in a fit of jealousy. 
 This passion for Jonquille had come upon him so 
 suddenly; it was like a fever burning in his veins 
 and taking possession of him, filling him with all 
 kinds of doubts and fears and desires such as 
 delirium brings. For several days the one idea 
 in flannel's head had been that he must have 
 Jonquillc ; his brain refused to hold any other 
 idea ; and if this state of tension had gone on 
 long, it would probably have brought on a real 
 lever; and who knows whether in that ease his 
 ardent passion might not have burnt itself out in
 
 2OO 
 
 physical suffering, and lie would have risen up 
 from his bed weak but convalescent, and in his 
 right mind. For these great passions exhaust 
 themselves and burn up all their fuel in a day. 
 
 Night came at last, and Manuel rejoined 
 his comrades in the low parlour, where Mother 
 Salome was lighting the lamps and laying the 
 table ; he sat down on a bench by himself as far 
 as possible from the yellow light which dazzled 
 him. Some one near him was talking of Jon- 
 quille ; Firmin had turned the conversation on 
 her in hopes that Manuel would betray his state 
 of feeling, and that they might find out what his 
 plans and prospects were. Mother Salome was 
 asked whether Jonquille would sing that night. 
 
 ' Upon my word, I don't know ; the child does 
 what she chooses.' 
 
 ' Quite right/ said Firmin ; ' that is the privi- 
 lege of pretty girls. For my part,' he added, 
 throwing a defiant look at Manuel,, ' I don't 
 know a prettier girl between here and Morteau.' 
 
 ' Hold your tongue,' said Constant. 
 
 ' Why should I? I am only speaking the truth, 
 as no one here will deny. ... I have known 
 dozens of pretty women in my soldiering days ; 
 the uniform attracts them as honey does wasp?.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 201 
 
 and I am not worse-looking than most fellows, in 
 spite of what Constant says.' 
 
 He could not swallow the affront he had 
 received from the latter ; to be sure, he was not 
 so tall as Manuel, but he had a longer moustache, 
 a fine head of hair, and above all, he was a 
 Frenchman, which he considered was worth all 
 the rest. His companions laughed and let him 
 go on talking. 
 
 ' And as for singing, haven't I heard enough 
 warbling at theatres and music halls ? But in 
 spite of all their airs and graces, their shakes 
 and trills, none of them are fit to hold a candle 
 to Jonquille. What notes she has ! When she 
 sings 1 feel as if I were a guitar, and all my 
 strings were vibrating.' 
 
 O O 
 
 'That's just it!' cried the rest, delighted 
 with a comparison which expressed so well 
 their own feelings. 'A guitar; that's just 
 it I You have hit the nail on the head, 
 Firm in.' 
 
 1 And her pretty gestures,' continued the 
 orator, encouraged by the applause lie received. 
 ' How she smiles and bends her head and looks 
 right through and beyond you at something 
 which seems far away, and then she puts her
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 hand on her hip, as if she were going to dance, 
 or play the old forfeit 
 
 ' Kneel to the wittiest, 
 Bow to the prettiest, 
 And kiss the one you love best.' 
 
 I have sometimes thought she was going to do 
 that, and let us know which of us she prefers.' 
 
 All the band except Manuel and Constant 
 burst out laughing. Manuel found it very hard 
 not to rush up to the speaker and seize him by 
 the throat, but he only stood grasping tightly 
 the back of a chair and said nothing, though his 
 brow grew dark, and he bit his lips in anger. 
 For what right had he to stop the mouth of this 
 insolent fellow ? At last, feeling that he could 
 restrain himself no longer, he hastily crossed the 
 room and went out. 
 
 The kitchen door on the opposite side of the 
 passage stood open ; and two dark figures stood 
 out against the ruddy background of the fire. 
 
 ' As well have him as another,' said Mother 
 Salome's sharp voice ; ' Constant is well off, but 
 he is too ugly. I should like a son-in-law whom 
 it's a pleasure to look at ; and, besides, you say 
 he has enough to keep vou and do something for 
 
 O J- / 
 
 Pierre as well ? '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' He said a few words about it, but I did not 
 pay much attention ; but don't say anything to 
 him yet, pray, for I should feel so ashamed.' 
 
 'Do you think your fine feelings will make 
 the pot boil, or put anything inside it ? ' asked 
 the hostess. 
 
 Manuel came abruptly into the kitchen. 
 
 ' It is I,' he said ; but his manner softened as 
 he looked at Jonquille. How young and pretty 
 and fragile she looked in spite of all her proud 
 ways. How much need she had of a strong arm 
 to help her and to check her and to prevent her 
 going in rough paths unsuited to a young girl's 
 tender feet. He spoke in a low, affectionate 
 tone 
 
 ' 1 have come for your answer ; is it to be Yes 
 or No ? ' 
 
 His heart beat so fast that lie could hardly 
 finish his sentence steadily. 
 
 ' Yes,' she answered ; and at once the low. 
 gloomy, commonplace kitchen became trans- 
 formed in Manuel's eyes, and seemed to be full of 
 light, and the fire on the hearth seemed to flame 
 up brighter and to shine on his happiness. 
 Mother Salome disappeared, and he was alone 
 with Jonquille, who seemed to him to stand
 
 204 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 surrounded by a halo of light and glory. His 
 silence perplexed Jonquille ; she was unaware of 
 all that was passing through his mind ; but at 
 last he roused himself from this dream of bliss to 
 find that it was indeed true Jonquille was his 
 now. He went up to her and seized both her 
 hands. ' Come/ he said, feeling that this low 
 room was too small a place for his great joy. 
 ' Come outside ; ' and he led her into the yard. 
 
 The silent stars looked down on them out of 
 the dark blue sky ; a fresh air came up from the 
 river and swept round them both ; Manuel caught 
 Jonquille and strained her to his breast with 
 passionate energy. 'You have said "Yes," 
 Jonquille; say again that it is true that 
 this is no mere momentary whim ; say " Yes " 
 again.' 
 
 She gave no answer, but laid her head on 
 Manuel's shoulder, as he bent over her. He 
 stooped, and fearing to frighten her, gently kissed 
 her head. Jonquille trembled at this lover's kiss, 
 the first she had ever received. 
 
 ' And you really love me better than any 
 one ? ' he asked. 
 
 1 Better ? ' she asked scornfully ; ' did you 
 think I cared for anv of them ? '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' But you love me, don't you, Jonquille ? ' lie 
 continued, his voice trembling with emotion. 
 
 ' Love you ? ' but the words seemed so strange 
 and sweet in her ears that she could say no more ; 
 and then, with sudden shyness, added, shaking 
 her head, ' You ask too many questions, Manuel ; 
 I answered one, and that is quite enough for the 
 present.' And slipping out of his grasp she ran 
 into the house. 
 
 Manuel followed her. He wanted to find her ; 
 he had so much to say, so many things to pour 
 out in the fulness of his heart ; but the kitchen 
 door was shut when he reached it, and he did 
 not venture to go in. He turned into the par- 
 lour, where supper had just begun ; as he went 
 in he could see that they had been talking about 
 him. Constant had taken the opportunity to 
 excite the rest of the band against Manuel ; he 
 wished to get him expelled with ignominy; it 
 was only thus he felt that he could make his 
 own position secure and satisfy his desire for 
 rcvt-nge. Firmin disliked Constant, and took 
 every opportunity of contradicting him, though 
 Firmin himself felt anything but friendly to 
 Manuel either at this moment. The latter sat 
 perfectly silent, and no unpleasant remarks
 
 206 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 seemed to have any effect on him ; he was not 
 eating, but sat looking at the wall in an absent 
 way. He was roused at last by a remark made 
 by Firmin. 
 
 ' Half an hour gone,' he said, pulling out his 
 watch ; ' if Jonquille is going to give us a song, 
 it is time she should begin.' 
 
 What ! was Jonquille to come and sing to-night 
 to all these rough, rude lads, who discussed her 
 looks and watched each gesture, while every one 
 of them hoped he might be the favoured suitor ! 
 Manuel grew more and more excited, as all this 
 passed through his mind. No ! he would not 
 allow it. This day was sacred to both him and 
 Jonquille as their betrothal day, and it was 
 fitting that Jonquille should now be more retir- 
 ing and modest, and prepare for the new life of 
 domestic joys which they would share together. 
 
 Manuel therefore left the room to warn Jon- 
 quille and spare her the necessity of refusing to 
 sing ; he thought that he was quite calm, and 
 did not realise that a feeling of jealousy had 
 crept in. He met Jonquille in the passage.] 
 
 ' Don't go in/ he said gravely, stopping her ; 
 ' they want you to sing, so you had better go up 
 to Pierre's room.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 207 
 
 ' Why ? ' she asked with surprise. 
 
 ' Don't you understand, Jonquille ; you belong 
 to me now altogether, and I don't choose to 
 share you with all the rest \ ' 
 
 ' Oh ! ' she said slowly, more astonished than 
 annoyed ; ' but the poor lads will be expecting 
 their bit of music, and if I don't sing they will 
 drink to keep up their spirits.' 
 
 ' You didn't sing the other night when I 
 begged you.' 
 
 ' And you were pleased, weren't you ? Come, 
 Manuel, let me pass, or I shall get angry with 
 you.' 
 
 ' Jonquille, do listen, I beg of you ; I know 
 many things that you don't, and that a young 
 girl never knows. If you had only heard those 
 rude lads talk to-night, Jomjuille, you would 
 understand better. They admire you as they 
 would a singer at a music hall ; they think that 
 you favour them when they cast tender looks at 
 you ; but 1 will make them stop all that ; I will 
 give them black eyes instead.' 
 
 JoiKjuille blushed, but she held up her head 
 proudly. 
 
 ' You are unjust to the lads,' she said ; 'perhaps 
 they have not such line manners as Cons. la nt and
 
 208 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 you, who have lived in a town, but they have 
 never been wanting in proper respect to me.' 
 
 ' Do you talk of me and that mealy-mouthed, 
 pig-faced Constant in the same breath ? ' he asked 
 angrily. 
 
 Jonquille could not help laughing ; and Manuel, 
 having let off his anger in this manner, added 
 more gently 
 
 'Go up to Pierre to please me, Jonquille ; I 
 shall only feel happy if I know that you are safe 
 up there.' 
 
 ' Thank you for your trust in me,' she answered 
 ironically ; and slipping by him before he was 
 aware, she entered the parlour, and was received 
 \vith cheers by the young men. Manuel followed 
 her ; he did not dare lose sight of his treasure ; 
 and standing proudly by her, he seemed to say to 
 all, ' Come and take her from me if you dare.' 
 
 Manuel's attitude astonished the others, and 
 they were all silent ; but he stooped down, and 
 in a voice trembling with emotion whispered in 
 Jonquille's ear, 'You will obey me/ 
 
 ' Not yet,' she answered in a defiant tone ; 
 and, full of rebellious spirit, she raised her head 
 and began to sing. 
 
 She had only time to utter two or three notes
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 209 
 
 when she felt herself suddenly snatched up from 
 the ground, and Manuel was carrying her off in 
 his arms. He reached the door in a moment, 
 bearing his trembling captive, who was secretly 
 pleased at this outburst of her lover, and lay 
 willingly in the strong clasp of his arms. He 
 rushed up the stairs with his precious burden 
 his rebellious love ; but he could feel Jonquille's 
 head nestling on his shoulder, and his burden 
 seemed to grow lighter. She did not struggle 
 any longer. Had he been too rough with her ? 
 Was she afraid of him ? He opened Pierre's 
 door hastily. Pierre was reading by the light of 
 a lamp ; he looked up with surprise, and grew 
 pale when he saw Jonquille in Manners arms. 
 
 ' What has happened ? ' he exclaimed ; ' are 
 you ill, Jonquille ? ' 
 
 Manuel had already set his prisoner free, and. 
 looking rather ashamed of himself, was going to 
 speak, when a loud tumult was heard on the 
 stairs ; the noise of steps and loud voices came 
 nearer, and in a moment the door was burst 
 violently open, and Firmin Mitou, gesticulating 
 and talking, rushed in, followed by the whole 
 band of smugglers, with Constant in the rear. 
 
 Manuel and Jonquille instinctively drew near 
 P
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 to Pierre to protect him, and Manuel stood 
 quietly by his chair, with his hand on Jonquille's 
 shoulder, eying his enemies. The rough smug- 
 glers were silenced at once, and their anger 
 checked by the sight of the invalid boy whom 
 they all loved. 
 
 'Firmin,' said Pierre, in his gentle, penetrat- 
 ing voice, ' will you explain what it is you 
 want ? ' 
 
 Firmin came forward, but his anger choked 
 him ; he could not speak. He tore off his red 
 tie and threw it on the ground, and then seized 
 his collar as if he would tear it in two, but Con- 
 stant laid his hand on his arm to stop him ; he 
 saw no use in this wanton destruction, and the 
 necktie was too good to be lost ; he crept round 
 quietly to pick it up. In the meanwhile, Firmin 
 had found the use of his tongue, which never 
 left him long. 
 
 ' Come out with us,' he said to Manuel, in a 
 menacing tone, while the others gave a low growl. 
 ' Come, we will have no scene before this child ; 
 we will fight it out like men outside.' 
 
 ' I am ready,' answered Manuel proudly. lie 
 took a step forward, but Jonquille went in front 
 of him, saying
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 211 
 
 ' It is I who will explain matters, Firmin, to 
 you and the other lads. I will tell you all in a 
 few r words ; I have promised Manuel Vincent to- 
 night to be his wife.' 
 
 She put her hand in his, and they stood there, 
 a handsome couple, as Firmin and the others 
 were obliged to confess to themselves. 
 
 The news w r as a blow r to them all, for each 
 one, even Arsene, had dreamt of winning Jon- 
 quill e and now w r ho was it who had carried off 
 the prize ? This newcomer, of whom they knew 
 nothing except that he was terribly ambitious 
 and meant to be captain of the band ; and he 
 began by carrying off their true captain, their 
 leading spirit, their good star. The bold thief 
 must be punished. 
 
 ' What are you waiting for ? ' asked Constant ; 
 ' why don't you pay him out at once \ ' 
 
 ' Is that your idea of fair play ? ' asked Fir- 
 min, pushing Constant rudely aside. ' Would 
 you have six men fall on one. and before a 
 woman and a child? I should like to turn you 
 out of doors. Hold your tongue, if you have 
 nothing better to suggest. We are honest fellows, 
 and will fight him one bv one.' 
 
 ' Silence ! ' cried Jo
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 They were so accustomed to obey her, that 
 they kept quiet at her word and listened to what 
 she was going to say. 
 
 ' Are you not ashamed, Firm in Mitou ? ' she 
 cried ; ' have you no atom of common sense, with 
 all the logic you boast of? Am I not free to 
 marry the man I choose ? If he does not suit 
 your taste what does it matter ? It is I who am 
 going to marry him ; there he is, and he is 
 my choice. Now you may leave the room. 
 You have behaved like fools and madmen, 
 making all this commotion and bursting into 
 Pierre's room ; he will be ill after it to-morrow ; 
 a nice way of showing your regard for me, in- 
 deed; and now you stand as mute as fish, waiting 
 for Firmin to speak for you ; let him speak, 
 then ; one can discuss matters with him at any 
 rate.' 
 
 This feminine way of reasoning made Pierre 
 smile, but it had its effect on the rebels. They 
 looked at one another as if they were conscious 
 now that their inroad had been inexcusable. 
 
 ' I never thought that you would treat me 
 like this,' added Jonquille, ' I who looked after 
 you all like a sister: who nursed you. waited oil 
 vou.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 213 
 
 She turned away and hid her face in her hands 
 with a sob. 
 
 ' Don't cry, Jonquille/ said Firmin in a sub- 
 dued voice ; ' I own I was too hasty ; I was in a 
 passion ; the others will say the same. Come, 
 speak/ he said, turning to the group of men be- 
 hind, who still looked gloomy and irritated, but 
 were quieting down. 
 
 ' It is quite true,' said one. ' Jonquille will 
 understand that it was a blow to us to see her 
 carried off under his arm as if she were an 
 umbrella ; but since she does not mind such 
 manners, it is not for us to say anything ; of 
 course she is free to choose.' 
 
 Jonquille interrupted him here 
 
 ' Certainly, but there is one thing I should like 
 better. Come, boys/ she said gently, ' prove your- 
 selves true brothers and friends to me ; just now 1 
 asked you to go, but now I ask you to stay and to 
 shake hands heartily and wish us both joy ; for 
 without your good wishes I should not be quite 
 happy. Come/ she said in those persuasive tones 
 which had so often moved them, and stepping 
 forward she smiled and added, ' who will begin '( ' 
 
 ' 1,' answered Arsene, as he went forward 
 awkwardly to meet her. To sav the truth, the
 
 214 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 blow had fallen less heavily on him than on the 
 others, for he had never been very hopeful of 
 carrying off the prize. But after squeezing both 
 Jonquille's and Manuel's hands in a grasp which 
 meant that he -did nothing by halves, he wiped 
 his brow and his eyes, saying, ' The stones are 
 hard,' and then retired into the background. 
 
 After a moment's pause Firmin stepped for- 
 ward ; either his natural generosity at last over- 
 powered his anger, or was it, that he enjoyed 
 showing off his magnanimous forgiveness ? How- 
 ever it was, he came forward and, solemnly taking' 
 both Jonquille's and Manuel's hands in his, said 
 
 ' Comrades, I give them my blessing.' 
 
 The others followed suit, but they had no fine 
 speeches ready ; as for Constant, he had slipped 
 out of the room. 
 
 ' Now start on your road,' said Jonquille, 
 smiling through her tears ; ' you are already very 
 late, and the moon will rise soon, and then you 
 will have no chance.' 
 
 ' Wait one moment,' said Firmin. ' I was for- 
 getting what was at the bottom of our complaint. 
 That is always the way in a row ; one gets so 
 confused at last that one does not know what 
 one began fighting for. Constant Loison de-
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 clares that Manuel intends to make himself out- 
 leader, and we are all to work for his profit. 
 Now just say, my lad, is this true ? ' 
 
 ' Constant is clever,' answered Manuel ; ' he 
 knows how to wrap up a morsel of truth in a 
 parcel of lies. It's true that I mean to work on 
 my own account, for I have some savings ; but 
 as to being leader of the band, I never thought 
 of such a thing. You are all my elders, and 
 have far more experience than I have ; I have 
 not got my epaulets yet.' 
 
 This rational and moderate speech satisfied 
 his audience. 
 
 ' Ah ! I sec how it is,' said Firmin, turning to 
 his comrades ; ' we have been deceived by Con- 
 stant. I never trusted that fellow, but these 
 two are as innocent as babes. I shall have it 
 out with him when we meet. Now let us be oil' 
 on the path of glory.' 
 
 The whole band left the room quietly. 
 Manuel, who was the last, said good-night to 
 Pierre, then drew Jonquille towards him, and 
 kissing her on the lips for the first time, whis- 
 pered 
 
 I am i>'oino- to earn monev for vour wedding-
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Six weeks have passed, and August is drawing 
 to a close. The leaves of the brambles are red- 
 dening, and the beeches are turning yellow in 
 these mountain gorges where autumn sets in full 
 early. Manuel is sitting on the bank, with his 
 feet nearly touching the water ; he is busy catch- 
 ing trout for Mother Salome's tank. He has 
 got two already in the pail of water beside him 
 under the shade of an elder. But he owes these 
 fish less to his own skill than to their care- 
 lessness, for he has none of the qualities of a 
 fisherman ; he is too impatient and abrupt 
 in his movements, and gives a sudden jerk to 
 his fly instead of letting it float quietly over 
 the water. His legs feel numb from sitting 
 still ; he longs to get up and stretch them, 
 and sympathises with the struggles of his cap- 
 tives, who are beating themselves against the
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 217 
 
 sides of the narrow pail in vain efforts to get 
 out. 
 
 ' Poor little things, how pretty and lively they 
 were in the river ! I can't stand seeing them 
 miserable ; here goes, never mind what Mother 
 Salome may say,' and he threw down his rod 
 suddenly and sprang up, carrying the pail to the 
 edge of a little bay, where white pebbles gleamed 
 in the transparent water. ' Good-bye, my pretty 
 ones ! ' he exclaimed, emptying the pail into the 
 river. The trout, a little astonished by this 
 change of fortune, remained at first motionless 
 in the troubled water, but soon darted away like 
 arrows and disappeared from Manuel's eyes. He 
 threw himself idly down on the grass. ' Now, 1 
 am perfectly happy,' he said to himself; 'I am 
 at peace with all the world, even with the fish.' 
 Then lie began to muse on his happiness. What 
 a change two months had made in his life. First, 
 he had thrown away his file and his watchmaker's 
 eyeglass and had gained his liberty, and then 
 he had yielded it up to Jonquille as a precious 
 treasure she was to keep for him. Two months 
 ago he had been nobody, or known only as a 
 number in the factory books ; now he had chosen 
 his own calling, and had a house, a wife, and a
 
 218 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 brother. The marriage had taken place three 
 days ago, quite quietly, at Jonquille's express 
 desire. First the Protestant pastor had married 
 them, and then the cure, who had baptized Jon- 
 quille, gave his blessing ; and thus, in the eyes of 
 the law, she became Barnabee Vincent, and brought 
 her husband to her mother's house. ' Manuel had 
 taken his furniture away from his former lodg- 
 ing and was surprised to find how many scratches 
 and stains and chips it had got ; one of the 
 chairs was broken, and the horsehair was peep- 
 ing out of several rents in the sofa. Manuel was 
 at first inclined to think that all this was Con- 
 stant's work, but he remembered that twenty-five 
 years' wear will tell on furniture, and thought no 
 more about it. 
 
 As he had three weeks' earnings in his pocket 
 he was able to make several purchases which 
 were highly approved of by Mother Salome. 
 She liked her son-in-law ; he was not exacting ; 
 he had not said a word about Jonquille's trous- 
 seau ; he was having a fine chest made for the 
 family linen ; and he put his money into the 
 common purse. 
 
 Besides that, he was strong and handsome, 
 although a little rough and of a jealous nature ;
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 219 
 
 but that was nothing; he was just the kind of 
 son-in-law she wanted. To be sure, there were 
 some drawbacks ; since the betrothal the lads 
 had left off coming, not wishing to let their 
 vexation be seen. Of course they would prob- 
 ably return in time, like cats who cannot bear 
 to forsake their old home even after a fire. 
 But in the meantime little business was done, 
 and the hostess found her earnings at a low 
 ebb. There was no longer the bustle of going 
 and coming to which they were all accustomed ; 
 Pierre was the only one who enjoyed the quiet, 
 Mother Salome found it rather dull, and Jon- 
 ([iiille, though she was busy all day cleaning 
 up the house and furniture, missed the wonted 
 stir in the evenings. She spent her afternoons 
 sitting by Pierre, sewing at her modest trous- 
 seau, and though stitching \\-as not her favourite 
 occupation she worked steadily, taking long 
 stitches when she got impatient, and then 
 punishing herself by undoing them. Manuel 
 
 / o 
 
 came to supper every evening, and then went 
 up to sit with Pierre before starting on his 
 expeditions; but as he was no great talker, the 
 conversation often flagged. For himself lie was 
 eoiitcnt to sit and look at Jon<]uille and hold
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 her hand in his ; but the young girl, who was 
 not naturally given to musing, would have pre- 
 ferred a more talkative lover. She tried to 
 make him talk about his past life and to tell 
 her about his childish recollections ; she wanted 
 to know anything about himself, but Manuel 
 was not a born story-teller; he could not de- 
 scribe well, nor did he love to talk about 
 himself, as a good story-teller always does. 
 He was not the least like Firmin Mitou, who 
 had gone through more adventures, according 
 to his own account, than fifty other smugglers. 
 Jonquille found the evenings monotonous, though 
 she was very happy in feeling herself beloved ; 
 but she missed the old excitement of the start, 
 the voices of the lads, the bustle, and perhaps 
 also the praises she won, which carried her 
 away from the everyday life around. She 
 was anxious that the weeks of betrothal 
 should pass that happy time of preparation 
 and hope, when a young girl is in a dreamy 
 state of transition, before waking up to be a 
 woman. This passive state was not congenial 
 to Jonquille's active nature ; she longed for 
 the wedding - day and to settle down into 
 ordinary life, when the old habits would be
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 resumed, and the lads would come back to 
 the house and things be as usual ; gay laughter 
 would once more be heard in the parlour, and 
 songs would be sung, and Manuel would be 
 the chief of the band. Her wish was soon 
 fulfilled, for Manuel was as anxious as her- 
 self to hurry on matters, and now they were 
 married, and he was thinking over his wonderful 
 good luck. 
 
 ' It isn't often,' he thought to himself, ' that 
 a man gets just the woman he wants, as I 
 have, and so quickly ; besides that, I have 
 got just the kind of work to do that suits 
 me, and I might have been searching for it 
 till my hair was white if that little fool 
 Constant had not shown it to me.' 
 
 He felt quite amiably towards Constant at 
 that moment, in spite of calling him a little fool. 
 He would have liked to take him by the collar 
 and have thrown him into the river, and then 
 have picked him out ngain and lent him his 
 own dry clothes. He was laughing to himself 
 nt this idea when a soft footstep came behind, 
 and two hands covered his eves, and a voice 
 
 J 
 
 whispered in lijs ear 
 ' Guess who I am I '
 
 222 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' My mother-in-law.' 
 
 The two little hands were lifted, but as 
 they glided by Manuel's ears, they could not 
 resist pulling them a little, just to punish him 
 for his impertinence. 
 
 Then Jonquille slid down on the grass by 
 her husband ; her little feet, clad in their blue 
 stockings and slippers, stretched themselves 
 out in the warm, high grass, and her head 
 rested on Manuel's shoulder. 
 
 1 How nice this is ! ' she said, and let her 
 pretty brown head touch his cheek. Suddenly 
 she pushed it aside exclaiming, ' The end of 
 your moustache went into my eye.' 
 
 Manuel twisted his moustache with that 
 pride in it which the owner of a moustache 
 always shows. 
 
 ' If you will come so near, it's not my 
 fault ; who touches nettles must expect to be 
 stung.' 
 
 ' Then I will go farther off,' said Jonquille, 
 pouting and turning her back to him. 
 
 He was amused by these mimic-angers ; these 
 spoilt-child ways made Jonquille seem younger 
 than she was, and if possible more lovable. 
 She was soon tired of feigning annoyance, and
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 223 
 
 turning towards him, saw the fishing-rod lying 
 on the grass. 
 
 ' Have you had any luck fishing ? What ! 
 nothing in the bucket ; stupid fellow.' 
 
 Manuel told her what he had done with his 
 two trout. 
 
 ' That was very virtuous, very nice to put in 
 a story for good little children ; but I am sorry 
 all the same, for some day we must put them 
 in the frying-pan ; and besides, my mother will 
 call you stupid, and I don't allow any one else 
 but myself to do that.' 
 
 While she spoke she was busy arranging 
 his tie ; she went on 
 
 ' There are people coming to supper too.' 
 
 ' Pray who ? ' said Manuel, in no very cordial 
 tones. 
 
 ' Firniiu Mitou and Arsene ; they arrived a 
 little while ago, and I came to tell you. Aren't 
 you pleased ? ' 
 
 ' So so ; rather odd, to disturb us so soon. 
 AVhy, we are still honeymooning, Jonquille ! ' 
 
 ' Tli ere ! ' she exclaimed triumphantly ; ' if 
 you could only see how nice your tie looks 
 now, much better than before ; do you know/ 
 she said, looking thoughtfully at him, 'that
 
 224 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 I think you are rather handsome as husbands 
 
 go-' 
 
 'And I,' he rejoined, 'think you charming 
 
 when you don't invite people to supper.' 
 
 ' I invite them ! What are you thinking of ? 
 Why, they came of themselves, as they always 
 used in old times the good old times,' she 
 added in a low voice. 
 
 Her husband looked at her and frowned. 
 
 ' I thought,' he said, ' that the old times 
 were past for ever. Remember you are a married 
 woman now, Jonquille.' 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 ' That's true ; but all the same it's very odd. I 
 don't feel a bit wiser or steadier than I did three 
 days ago. I thought that the cure's blessing 
 would be sure to make one feel much older and 
 wiser as soon as one left the church ; but, my poor 
 Manuel, you have only got a foolish little wife 
 after all.' 
 
 She threw her arms round his neck ; she was 
 not lavish with her caresses, but she wanted to 
 coax him into good humour. 
 
 ' You will welcome our lads kindlv, won't 
 
 */ - 
 
 you ? You are the master of the house now ; 
 
 don't forget that.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 225 
 
 ' If I were tlie master of the house/ lie said 
 in a harsh voice, ' I should shut the door.' 
 
 She drew back hurt ; she was not accustomed 
 to this severe tone. 
 
 He added more gentry 
 
 ' I hoped that things would be a little dif- 
 ferent less coming and going of noisy guests, 
 whose conversation is ill - suited to a young 
 wife's ears. Your mother would not have been 
 a loser by the change ; we should have had 
 a few quiet customers, passers-by, and I would 
 have supplied the rest.' 
 
 ' And I suppose you meant to shut me up 
 in my room all day, you jealous man ? ' she 
 exclaimed, for she had guessed the secret cause 
 of his displeasure. 
 
 ' Yes, I suppose I am jealous,' he answered 
 gloomily ; ' but not exactly in the way you 
 think. I want you to be more shy and retir- 
 ing. You are afraid of nothing and of nobody ; 
 and it is these lads, whom you addressed on one 
 memorable occasion as your brothers, who have 
 given vou this taste for bustle, and tauirlit vou 
 
 / o / 
 
 these free-and-easy manners.' 
 
 She was roused to anger by this speech, 
 and stood up, saying
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' I am Jonquille ; if you expected a fine lady, 
 Manuel, you are mistaken ; you should have 
 gone elsewhere.' 
 
 She began to climb the bank, but he jumped 
 up and held her back, saying 
 
 ' Don't go. Forget that I said that. Come, 
 be friends again.' 
 
 He held her hands tightly, but there was 
 no tone of excuse in his voice. 
 
 ' Certainly not,' she answered indignantly, 
 ' while you try to keep me by force.' 
 
 Manuel's displeasure had already melted away, 
 and drawing her towards him, he whispered 
 
 ' Ah ! my little Jonquille my queen, do what 
 you like ; only love me dearly.' 
 
 The supper that night was very lively. 
 Firmin was full of talk ; he had so much to tell 
 of a visit he had just paid in Beaujolais to his 
 mother's family. They were well-to-do people, 
 and had married and multiplied till there were 
 cousins in all parts of the district. Firmin had 
 gone from one house to another, enjoying the 
 hospitality of these rich farmers and vine- 
 growers. According to his account, they all 
 had money in the bank, a feast every Sunday, 
 and the most charming daughters that could be
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 227 
 
 seen. He tried to pique Jonquille by his de- 
 scriptions, but she only laughed heartily at his 
 exaggerations. She was pleased that the old 
 way of life had come back, and Manuel had 
 shown himself a tolerably cordial host. 
 
 ' Now we shall begin business again/ said 
 Firmin. 'As long as this house was the abode 
 of turtle-doves, we birds of night would not 
 disturb it ; but now we shall all come back. 1 
 gave this fellow notice as I was passing by, and 
 he was delighted to get back to work.' 
 
 Arsene Leroux gravely nodded his assent, 
 saying 
 
 'There has been very little earned lately; and my 
 mother grumbles, for the children cry out for bread . ' 
 
 ' You see/ said Jonquille, turning eagerly to 
 her husband, ' that they can't do without us ; 
 they are accustomed to meet here.' 
 
 ' For myself/ said Firmin, ' T am going to 
 turn over a new leaf; my cousin the solicitor 
 has taught me that a man with no capital is 
 only half a man. Instead of throwing my 
 money away directly 1 set it, I am iioinsi to 
 
 t/ J J O O O 
 
 start a book at the Savings Bank, and when 1 
 have saved enough 1 shall be oil' to Heaujolais. 
 That's the country to live in vines everywhere,
 
 228 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 and pleasant neighbours, and stuffed turkeys 
 running about the lanes.' 
 
 Arsene Leroux burst out laughing, which was 
 a great compliment, for it took a great deal to 
 unseat his gravity. 
 
 ' In spite of all that/ he said, 'I have no 
 doubt the stones there are as hard as here.' 
 
 ' There are no stones ! ' exclaimed Firrnin ; 
 ' nothing but rich soil, brown as chocolate, soft 
 as butter. And as for the vineyards, there are 
 some tricksy spirits, some will-o'-the-wisps, 
 hidden in them which mount upwards into the 
 grapes, and so into the wine, and so into the 
 heads of the inhabitants who drink it, and this 
 makes them the merriest, gayest folk in the 
 world. 
 
 Jonquille sat by listening with amusement to 
 all this nonsense. Now she joined in with ready 
 repartees for Firmin, and teasing playful speeches 
 for her husband. She had not laughed so much 
 for a lono- time, and when the men were ready to 
 
 O */ 
 
 start, she turned to Manuel and said, in a coaxing 
 voice 
 
 ' May I sin"; a little sono- before you all u'O ? ' 
 
 J o o J O 
 
 ' Anything you like, my darling,' he answered 
 gently and rather sadly.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 229 
 
 She began her song, and never had her voice 
 sounded clearer or more joyous. She sang like 
 a lark escaping from a cage, mounting up higher, 
 and higher in glad burst of melody. Manuel 
 felt himself strangely moved ; vague memories 
 and fears, forgotten impressions, feelings that 
 had been lying dormant, were all aroused, and 
 flitted in confused medley through his mind. 
 
 ' Would she sing like this for me alone ? ' he 
 asked himself, and turned to watch the impres- 
 sion made on his comrades. Too much or too 
 little admiration would equally have annoyed 
 him. 
 
 Just as they were leaving lie drew near 
 Jonquille, saying gently 
 
 ' Why don't you sing every evening to Pierre 
 and me ? ' 
 
 ' To be sure,' she said ; ' 1 never thought of 
 it.' 
 
 Poor child ! her in ft of son % had been some- 
 
 O O 
 
 times a 1 tread -winner for her, sometimes an 
 enchanted draught of pleasure and excitement at 
 the end of a dull day. She had never thought 
 of usiiiLT it by her own fireside to u'ive pleasure 
 
 O J ~ 
 
 at home. But then, what sort of home had she 
 been brought up in ?
 
 230 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Manuel was in an indulgent mood, and let 
 her cross the river with them, but he would not 
 let her row. He took the oars, and kept her 
 close by him under his sheltering care. 
 
 When they landed he let his comrades go on 
 in front, and, kissing Jonquille, bade her return 
 home at once. 
 
 ' I don't like to think of you alone on the 
 river so late. It is bad enough to think of you 
 left in that old house, with no one to defend you. 
 Who can tell what might happen to you without 
 my knowing it, while I am away ? ' 
 
 ' We have always been protected/ said 
 Jonquille gently. ' I suppose there is One in 
 heaven who keeps us safe for Pierre's sake, for 
 I often forget my prayers, and don't under- 
 stand much about them.' 
 
 After her husband left her Jonquille stepped 
 into the boat and took the oars, meaning to obey 
 and return at once ; but the night was so warm 
 and fine that she lingered to enjoy its beauty. 
 Winter would so soon be here, and then she would 
 be shut up between four walls. She leant back 
 on the seat, resting her head on one hand and 
 dipping the other into the water, while she 
 looked for her two favourite stars, and found
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 231 
 
 them at last reflected side by side in the dark 
 waters of the quiet little reach. 
 
 How long ago was it since she called one 
 of them after Manuel ? How could so many 
 wonderful things have happened in so few 
 weeks ? 
 
 She had often dreamt how she would fall in 
 love, and now it had all happened in the most 
 quiet, matter-of-fact way. The only startling 
 incident had been when her lover had snatched 
 her up in his arms and carried her off as a robber 
 seizes a treasure. But then, instead of carrying 
 her off to the ends of the world, he had only 
 taken her to the floor above, and there his lady- 
 love had made terms for him with the rebels. 
 Yet, though Jonquille could smile rather disdain- 
 fully at this recollection, she never forgot the 
 warm clasp of his strong arms, and how his 
 heart had beat with joy and excitement. She 
 never loved Manuel so well as when this sceno 
 came back to her thoughts. 
 
 'Yes, I love him,' she said dreamily; 'but 
 1 thought that love would be something different 
 and more engrossing. It has not altered my 
 life at all, as 1 expected. I still love Pierre and 
 my mother just as 1 used to do. and I am some-
 
 232 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 times, perhaps oftener dull than 'I used to be. 
 I am not always thinking of Manuel, and if I 
 had never known him I should not have been 
 much less happy, I think. But then he came 
 and loved me, and he is good and kind, and 
 would not let a hair of my head be hurt. We 
 women, however brave we are, want a man to 
 protect us.' 
 
 Time and the stars were gliding on in their 
 usual course, and an hour had passed before she 
 woke up from her reverie and took up the oars 
 with a start. 
 
 ' He will scold me for this, but I shall tell 
 him all the same.' 
 
 She began telling him at breakfast next day. 
 
 ' I think I must be a gipsy's child, and have 
 been changed in my cradle, for when it is a fine 
 night I cannot bear having a roof over my head. 
 You and I, Manuel, must take a wedding trip on 
 foot and sleep out at night, and let the little 
 birds cover us with leaves to keep us warm.' 
 
 Manuel made no answer, for lie had walked 
 all night in order to get home early, and was 
 tired out. lie went upstairs and slept till dinner- 
 time, while Jonquil le and her mother looked after 
 household matters. In the afternoon Manuel
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 233 
 
 went into Pierre's room, and offered to take him 
 out for a walk, but the poor boy was not well 
 enough to go out that day. After sitting by 
 him for a few minutes, Manuel got up abruptly 
 
 ' I must find something to do,' he said. ' 1 
 am ashamed of sitting doing nothing while 
 Jonquille works.' 
 
 He went down into the garden, and found his 
 wife picking caterpillars off the cabbages. 
 
 ' Give me something to do, Jonquille/ he said. 
 
 ' You may help me if you like.' 
 
 He bent down beside her, and spent a quarter 
 of an hour in carefully picking off caterpillars 
 and throwing them into a pail of water. But at 
 last he got up, quite weary of his employment. 
 
 ' Is there nothing else for me to do ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 ' Nothing to-day ; next week you must chop 
 and store up the \vood for winter's use.' 
 
 ' Couldn't you leave those caterpillars alone 
 now, wife ? ' 
 
 ' Why, husband, if I did our cabbages, would 
 look like broomsticks in a fortnight ; they would 
 be of no use in the pot.' 
 
 j\laniu'l was amused by Jonquille's matronly 
 airs, and recovered his good humour. Looking
 
 234 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 round he saw a piece of the fence was broken, 
 and ran to get his hammer and nails and spent 
 the afternoon in odds and ends of repairs. But 
 doing odds and ends of work is not half so 
 satisfactory as having regular employment, and 
 Manuel found the day long while he drew water 
 and swept out the shed, cut chips for the kitchen 
 fire, or lifted the heavy cauldron when necessary, 
 besides mending a broken shutter. 
 
 ' Well/ said Manuel, as he sat with his wife 
 that evening in Pierre's room, Mother Salome 
 having gone to bed early, ' I confess the after- 
 noon has seemed terribly long to me, and yet I 
 have hammered in at least three dozen nails, 
 till there's nothing left that wants mending. 
 
 O O 
 
 What shall I do to-morrow, Jonquille ? ' 
 
 ' I will break something in order to give you 
 the pleasure of mending it. But what a baby 
 you make yourself out to be, Manuel ; you surely 
 can find something to do ? ' 
 
 ' I should like to know how the other fellows 
 spend their days.' 
 
 ' They sleep, most of them, but some make 
 file-handles.' 
 
 ' That would remind me too much of the 
 factory. '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 235 
 
 ' Arserie helps his mother with the household 
 work ; they say he can even iron out linen. 
 Would you like to learn to do that ? ' 
 
 ' Can you do it yourself ? ' he asked abruptly, 
 for he did not like to be laughed at. 
 
 'Manuel is right,' said Pierre, who under- 
 stood better than Jonquille how irksome idle- 
 ness was ; ' he must have some work of his own. 
 Supposing you kept rabbits, Manuel.' 
 
 ' What a good idea,' said the latter. ' There 
 is plenty of room in the shed ; I will get a place 
 ready for them to-morrow ; between now and 
 Christmas we might breed a lot. I know a man 
 at Recrette who would let me have a pair or two.' 
 
 He was so grateful to Pierre that he offered 
 to read to him, and Pierre accepted, with a look 
 of pleasure lighting up his pale face, lie was 
 usually so tired at nights that he would let 
 the book drop from his hands, and as the con- 
 versation was not very lively the evenings often 
 seemed to him long, but this reading together 
 would make another link between the three. 
 Manuel was an indifferent reader ; he had got 
 into the habit at school of reading in a dull, 
 monotonous tone. He paid no attention to 
 commas, but made a long pause at the end of
 
 236 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 every paragraph, as much as to say, ' I hope you 
 have got some ideas from what I have read, for 
 it is more than I have.' But after a few pages 
 his voice suddenly gained an expression of in- 
 telligence, as if he had just found out that all 
 these sentences, which he had formerly run into 
 one another, really had a meaning which could 
 be enjoyed, and when in a dialogue the speakers 
 changed, he even altered the tone of his voice to 
 mark it ; in fact, he became so interested that he 
 stopped to look at the name of the book, which 
 he had never thought of doing before. It was 
 the history of Captain Grant's children, a book 
 full of strange adventures and profusely illus- 
 trated ; Pierre had read it twenty times over, 
 and when the reader hesitated over some difficult 
 word, he had only to look at Pierre to be told, 
 and then went fluently on his way. 
 
 Jonquille's thoughts meanwhile were wander- 
 ing, and the voice of her husband seemed to 
 mingle with the murmur of the river in her ears. 
 When she folded up her work at ten o'clock, 
 feeling sleepy, Manuel was quite sorry to leave off. 
 
 ' This is a nice story,' he said ; ' I should 
 not have minded reading on a page or two, as it 
 amuses you.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 237 
 
 ' Pierre is tired, and so am I/ said Jonquille, 
 leaning her drowsy head against her husband's 
 arm ; ' I don't much care for these make-believe 
 adventures ; if I were a man I should like to go 
 off and have real adventures of my own.' 
 
 Manuel found occupation during the next few 
 days in preparing a lodging for the rabbits, and 
 he had, besides, fewer leisure hours, as he slept 
 half the day after several night expeditions. 
 But when the rabbits were lodged, and the 
 winter provision of wood laid up in the shed, he 
 began to ask himself again what he should do 
 with his time ? The afternoons were so tedious, 
 and, strange to say, he no longer felt the old 
 pleasure in wandering about the woods, now that 
 he could do it whenever he chose. He would 
 climb to some height and look down on the 
 windings of the river Doubs and the steep cliffs 
 that hemmed it in, but he no longer felt that 
 
 o 
 
 intense delight in liberty and the freedom to 
 wander where he would, which had filled his 
 heart when a boy. 
 
 Manuel was not sufficiently well educated to 
 find resources in himself; he liked to read a 
 little in the evening, but lie wanted some manual 
 work in the daytime. Once a week lie went to
 
 238 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 make purchases in the neighbouring town, and 
 that one day passed quickly enough, but how to 
 get through the other six days of the week ? 
 
 The band of smugglers fell back into their 
 old habits of coming to the house, as Firmin had 
 predicted they would. 
 
 One by one they all dropped in except 
 Constant, who did not appear, but sent his 
 bales regularly. Manuel joined in the games of 
 skittles, which he found as good a way of killing 
 time as any other, but he threw an ardour into 
 his play which astonished his more phlegmatic 
 companions. He never forbade Jonquille to sing 
 now, but rather encouraged her ; he seemed to 
 find it a necessary stimulus to prevent his 
 sinking into dull apathy. He was reckless and 
 foolhardy in the night expeditions, and his com- 
 panions blamed him ; but he seemed to enjoy 
 danger and to delight in finding all his faculties 
 called out to meet it. The more difficulties 
 there were on the path, the more he felt drawn 
 to his smuggler's work ; but, alas, it only filled up 
 half his time and left the other half dull and 
 monotonous ! 
 
 The life of a settler in a new country would 
 really have suited Manuel better than any other,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 239 
 
 for all his strength and energy would have been 
 called forth daily to battle with a thousand 
 difficulties and dangers. But he felt cribbed 
 and confined in the narrow limits of life in an 
 old and long settled country, where he could not 
 move without elbowing a neighbour who was 
 struggling like himself to gain a livelihood. A 
 strong and hardy nature like his requires more 
 air and freedom and fewer restrictions on liberty 
 of action. If a pioneer's axe had been given 
 him and a tract of wild country, he would have 
 shown his powers of endurance and perseverance ; 
 he would have been one of those nameless heroes 
 who open out new soil for their weaker brethren, 
 and his days would have been full of interest 
 and employment. 
 
 He was in a false position as a smuggler, for 
 his work was fitful and only took up a part of 
 his time, leaving many hours to hang heavily on 
 his hands, till at times lie felt inclined to be 
 weary of -life altogether. 
 
 Shall we who have been more fortunate 
 blame him severely for being in a wrong track, 
 for having blundered in his choice of a calling ? 
 Have we clone all we could for those less well 
 trained than ourselves to help them in right
 
 240 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 judgment and conduct ? Have we not had 
 
 greater advantages at starting ? and shall \ve 
 think harshly of the erring ones who have taken 
 a wrong path and gone far astray ? 
 
 Manuel had chosen a calling which he 
 knew was illegal, and which he knew in- 
 volved an irregular mode of life ; but he 
 deceived himself into thinking that he had 
 the right to break the laws of two countries 
 and to be a law to himself; and it was 
 this fatal rebellion against all discipline which 
 had spoilt his life, and made him the slave of 
 his own impulses. He had always craved for 
 freedom, and had never realised that being 
 subject to one's own whims is not freedom, but 
 slavery of the worst and most unprofitable kind. 
 
 Though no one had spoken to Manuel of 
 emigration, and he had probably never heard of 
 Natal or Congo, yet the thought of seeking a 
 new field, which had been his wish as a boy, 
 now came back to him and haunted him this 
 autumn when he had nothing to do. Perhaps 
 he was unconsciously influenced by the stories of 
 wonderful adventures which he read to Pierre 
 in the evening. Pie would go and sit on the 
 rocky steps cut in the cliffs overlooking the river.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 and dream of far countries, with strange animals, 
 and volcanic peaks, and treasures of gold, while 
 he carved a bit of wood into fantastic heads of 
 birds or beasts. He pictured himself making a 
 clearing in some wild spot and building a house. 
 where his wife would welcome him in the even- 
 ing, when he came back from the chase, bringing 
 a bear's paws for their supper, or some other 
 dainty such as hunters love. 
 
 ' Perhaps the books exaggerate,' said Manuel 
 to himself ; ' but still, if there were only half the 
 fine things they describe, it would be worth 
 going out there to try the sort of life ; and I 
 know there are emigration societies who, for a 
 certain sum, will take you over to any colony 
 you choose, and then a strong and steadfast will 
 can do the rest.' 
 
 One evening Manuel touched on the subject 
 near his heart to Jonquil le, as he was sitting 
 alone with her in their room. ITe took heron 
 his knee, as he often did when they had a little 
 quiet chat together, and she leant her head 
 against him. and liked to feel the caressing touch 
 
 O O 
 
 of his hand on her hair. 
 
 'Jonquille, are you verv fond of this plaee '.' 
 
 he asked. 
 
 11
 
 242 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' I don't know ; I never was anywhere else,' 
 she said. 
 
 ' Because, dear, there are other places where 
 we might be happier.' 
 
 ' Happier/ she echoed. ' Why, what more do 
 we want ? ' 
 
 ' You are happy, are you ? But I want to 
 find some work to do.' 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 ' You can get something to do ; I have sug- 
 gested twenty different things.' 
 
 ' Woman's work I can't bear those small 
 tools ; give me an axe or* a spade/ 
 
 'You can work in our garden in the spring.' 
 
 ' Spring ! ' he said dreamily ; ' but there is all 
 winter to come first. Why, I had not thought 
 about that ! What can you do all the winter 
 here ? the men, I mean.' 
 
 ' They twirl their thumbs ; they are of no use 
 except to do that and smoke their pipes,' she 
 answered rather impatiently. 
 
 ' Can one cross the frontier in winter ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 ' Not so easily as in summer ; but there are 
 weeks of open weather when it can be done. 
 But I shall keep you at home as much as I
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 243 
 
 can,' she said, throwing her arm round his neck. 
 ' You can afford to be idle and take a rest, for 
 you have laid up a good winter store.' 
 
 He smiled rather bitterly. Was this what he 
 wanted to rest and be idle ? 
 
 ' I have thought of another plan,' he said in 
 a hesitating tone. ' How would you like to 
 emigrate, Jonquille ? ' 
 
 ' Mercy ! what are you thinking of ? ' she- 
 cried ; ' have you gone out of your mind ? ' 
 
 ' Perhaps so,' he answered abruptly ; ' it is 
 enough to make one go out of one's mind ; for 
 the last two months I have been worrying myself 
 what to do. This smuggler's life is all very well. 
 but it leaves me too much time on my hands. 
 I love my country ; but my country does not 
 seem to care about me, since it gives me no 
 opening to get on.' 
 
 ' I should have thought,' said Jonquille in a 
 reproachful voice, ' that you had been very lucky 
 lately and got a great deal.' 
 
 'That's true, my darling! I am an ungrate- 
 ful fellow/ he said, drawing her still closer to 
 him. ' Your are my treasure. But 1 don't 
 know how to explain a man wants something 
 more even than a house and a dear little wife :
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 he wants some work and interest in the outside 
 world, and then he can enjoy coming back to his 
 own home each evening. Would you like to go 
 off abroad with me ? I would take such care of 
 you that you should not suffer from the long 
 journey/ 
 
 ' And what would become of Pierre ? ' 
 There was a long silence between them. At 
 last Jonquille stood up, and Manuel left the room 
 and went out. The night was dark ; the yard 
 was empty of everything but dark shadows, 
 which made it seem vaster. The outline of the 
 roof of the house could not be distinguished 
 from the background of cliffs which stood dimly 
 visible against the cloudy sky. The murmur of 
 the river alone betrayed where it ran. Manuel 
 went down to the shore, and sat on a stone, 
 with his head in his hands. Everything around 
 him seemed gloomy and indistinct like his own 
 thoughts ; he could not make out what was 
 wanting in his life, and yet lie missed some 
 guiding principle; he felt he bad lost his way. 
 The freedom he had longed for was no longer 
 his; he had bound himself fast by fresh ties. 
 He felt for a moment like some wild animal 
 caught in a net and trying in vain to escape
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 245 
 
 from its meshes. Why had he been so ready to 
 part with his newly -found liberty, and to en- 
 tangle himself with family ties Jonquille, Pierre ? 
 For one second he thought he hated them. Then 
 he pressed his hands to his forehead 
 
 ' Oil, I am going mad ! ' he groaned ; ' dark- 
 ness is closing round me ; I must escape from 
 this somehow.' 
 
 He got up abruptly, and paced up and down 
 the yard till his outburst of passion had cooled, 
 and he could laugh bitterly and say 
 
 ' Fool that I was to expect that I could alter 
 the course of events, or that the world would 
 leave off turning round in the old groove. But 
 1 don't seem fitted to go in the groove as others 
 do.' 
 
 He paced the yard for some time longer till 
 lie had grown calm enough to join Jonquille 
 upstairs. She was waiting for him anxiously, 
 and this dark night formed an epoch in their 
 married life.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE next morning life began again as usual. 
 Manuel was subject to violent revulsions of feel- 
 ing, as is often the case with strong and undis- 
 ciplined natures, and to-day he was unusually 
 gentle to Jonquille and to Pierre. Besides, he 
 happened to have enough on his hands to occupy 
 him. 
 
 It was the beginning of November, and a few 
 fluttering snowflakes came to warn them to pre- 
 pare for winter. The few vegetables that were 
 left had to be dug up and stored in the cellar ; 
 the double windows must be fitted in, and the 
 doors bound with list to keep out the cold. 
 Then wine and provisions of flour had to be 
 bought, and a goat to yield a daily supply of 
 milk ; for they might be cut off from their 
 neighbours by snowdrifts, and have to depend 
 on their own resources. Manuel stored up also
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 247 
 
 some bales of tobacco, intending if possible to 
 cross the frontier occasionally if the mountain 
 paths were at all practicable. Although he had 
 been lucky in his business, and had entrusted a 
 nice little sum to Jonquille's care, yet he did not 
 feel that he had earned enough yet for the house- 
 hold, and he intended to defy the smugglers' 
 proverbial saying 
 
 ' In summer we're gay ; 
 Winter we sleep away ; 
 In summer dance and drink wine ; 
 In winter hungry we pine.' 
 
 Though winter expeditions are more risky, 
 they are also more profitable, and Manuel sug- 
 gested to his companions that they should drive 
 a few stakes along their usual paths to guide 
 them when snow covered the ground, and this 
 labour occupied them for several days. 
 
 Jonquille had been busy in Pierre's room 
 filling up the space between the double windows 
 witli moss and berries, and hanging boughs of 
 holly and sweet - smelling juniper round the 
 mirror on the wall. 
 
 The room looked bright and gay. but it had 
 very little sunlight in it now ; only for an 
 hour or two could the sun penetrate the gorge.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 and from December till spring- time the great 
 rocks behind the old house kept it in shadow for 
 three months. Pierre dreaded the approach of 
 that time, when the monotonous hours of suffer- 
 ing would seem drearier still from the gloom 
 and cold. He did not complain, but Jonquille 
 could see how he watched the lessening rays 
 of sunlight. 
 
 One day Manuel brought home from the town 
 two pots of primulas, white and red, and a 
 hyacinth bulb, which he put in a wide-mouthed 
 bottle. 
 
 ' You can watch them grow,' he said to Pierre, 
 as he arranged the little garden on a stand near 
 the window. 
 
 The boy's eyes grew bright with pleasure. 
 
 ' How kind you are, Manuel ! ' he cried. 
 
 Manuel blushed, and felt a pang of remorse 
 at these words, for though he loved Pierre, he 
 had evil thoughts sometimes in his heart when 
 his rebellious nature chafed against restraints, 
 and then he felt the lad a burden and a tie 
 keeping him back. It seemed as if two natures 
 were struggling in him, and his will was not 
 .strong enough to subdue the lower nature. 
 
 Tn former davs he had hated the factory,
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 249 
 
 and now, though his love for Jonquille was 
 too strong for him to hate the restrictions of 
 married life, he felt his chains even in his 
 happiest moments. Besides, there was the dif- 
 ference between his former and his present 
 bondage. The first had been a heavy burden, 
 but he could break away from it when he chose ; 
 the second was far lighter, but it could not be 
 given up, and the knowledge of this fretted his 
 undisciplined nature, which loathed an indis- 
 soluble bond. He would gladly have given up 
 his liberty day by day to Jonquille, but it must 
 be by his own free will. If he had felt that he 
 could go away at any moment he would gladly 
 have stayed, but the more he felt home -ties 
 keeping him in this narrow circle, the more he 
 longed to burst the barriers and regain his 
 freedom. His young wife was quite unconscious 
 of all these tumultuous thoughts which surged 
 
 O o 
 
 through his mind. It' she had understood thorn 
 she might have been able to help him to with- 
 stand them, but she was young and inexperi- 
 enced, and was merely beginning to think to 
 
 t/ Q O 
 
 herself that Manuel had a discontented dis- 
 position. 
 
 'He has evervthin^ he wants, and the kind
 
 250 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 of work he always longed for ; what more does 
 lie want ? ' 
 
 Pierre had quicker perceptions, and was more 
 alive to the workings of his brother-in-law's 
 mind, and what he observed made him anxious. 
 Manuel sometimes found the boy's keen eyes 
 fixed on him, and if he was in a bad humour it 
 annoyed him to feel himself watched ; but if he 
 was in a good temper he would sit down by 
 Pierre and take his hand, saying 
 
 ' I'm a crotchety fellow, am I not, Pierre ? ' 
 You must teach me to be patient, and to get 
 through life as bravely as you do.' 
 
 After this they had long talks together, and 
 Jonquille, coming in upon them unexpectedly, 
 would often find her husband sitting by her 
 brother, with one of Pierre's favourite books in 
 his hand, The Imitation of Christ. But when 
 they saw her they broke off their talk, for Manuel 
 felt that his wife had less sympathy w r ith him in 
 his difficulties than Pierre. 
 
 Winter set in at last in earnest, and all the 
 ground was white with snow, the sky was a 
 leaden gray, and a dull silence seemed to reign, 
 which weighed on the spirits. Pierre felt the 
 cold, and Manuel was bored ; Jonquille sat
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 251 
 
 spinning and singing in a low voice ; while 
 Mother Salome fell asleep by the kitchen fire. 
 But sometimes, as the roads were not quite 
 blocked up, a merry party would meet together 
 in the old house. 
 
 Firmin would appear first, and the others 
 would drop in, and they played cards and 
 smoked, while their hostess roused herself from 
 her nap to put her saucepans on the fire. If it 
 was a moonlight night they sat up late, singing 
 and drinking. Jonquille at length remarked 
 that her husband drank more than was good for 
 him, and became excited and noisy. 
 
 ' What fun we had to-night ! ' he would say as 
 he put his arm round her ; but she would turn 
 away disgusted from the smell of drink. 
 
 The next morning he would be silent and 
 gloomy, and Jonquille read signs of shame and 
 repentance in his looks; and then she would be 
 more affectionate than usual, and her husband 
 would kiss her, and say 
 
 k My poor Jonquille, what sort of husband 
 have you got ( ' 
 
 ( MIC day he went out into the yard, and found 
 it full of snow, while a great drift had been 
 blown airainst the fence. Before him rose the
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 mountain, and behind him another mountain 
 rose like a great wall, while the outlet of the 
 gorge was closed in by a thick mist. He felt as 
 if he were a prisoner in this savage spot, and a 
 sort of despair seized him. He went back into 
 the house with a heavy heart, and stepped into 
 the parlour, the door of which was half open. 
 He saw a small bottle of brandy in the cupboard, 
 and a sudden desire for a stimulant seized him. 
 Here was the very thing to drive away melan- 
 choly. He seized the bottle, and was going 
 to drink when he felt a hand checking him. 
 It was Jonquille who stood there, with her eyes 
 full of tears. She threw her arms round his 
 neck, exclaiming 
 
 ' Oh, Manuel ! has it come to this ? You 
 will ruin yourself, and all our happiness. I see 
 you are unhappy here ; it is better you should 
 go away than do this.' 
 
 He looked at her for a long time without 
 speaking, and at length shook his head, saying 
 gloomily 
 
 ' I am possessed by an evil spirit. I shall 
 always be a trouble to my wife.' 
 
 ' Go and travel,' she answered ; ' take all 
 the money we have got, and don't trouble
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 253 
 
 yourself about me, Manuel ; you are free 
 to go.' 
 
 He felt she had given him the liberty for 
 which he had been pining. 
 
 ' Keally,' he said, as if chains had been taken 
 off him ; ' am I free to go ? ' 
 
 'Yes, go.' 
 
 ' Tli en I will stay ! ' he exclaimed, clasping 
 her in his arms ; ' how could I leave my dear 
 little wife?' 
 
 She looked at him anxiously, and said 
 
 ' But you must promise me one thing : never 
 to drink when you are alone ; it is not so bad 
 for you to take a glass with the others, but 
 when you get melancholy you must fly from 
 spirits as if they were poison ; promise me this.' 
 
 ' I don't like promises,' he said roughly ; ' 1 
 hate to be bound by anything. I had a de- 
 sponding fit this afternoon and felt miserable ; 
 but you may depend upon me, Jonquille ; it 
 shall not happen airain [ am i>-oin<>- to turn 
 
 O O o 
 
 over a new leaf.' 
 
 lie kept his word and math 1 a vigorous effort 
 to find some work; he told his wife the next 
 day that he was going to make some chairs 
 such as watchmakers use, which screw up and
 
 254 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 down. He knew some one in the town who 
 would give him an order for them, and he set 
 off that same day, in spite of the bad state 
 of the roads, to buy the necessary wood ; he 
 intended to get Firmin Mitou to turn the legs 
 and screws for him until he had learnt to do 
 it himself. 
 
 All went well for some days. Manuel worked 
 diligently, and might be heard whistling gaily 
 in the shed where he had set up his bench. 
 Jonquille used to pay him little visits there 
 to see how he was getting on, and he seemed 
 fonder of her than ever. In the evening he 
 read aloud or played a game of draughts 
 with Pierre, but he found the game too slow 
 to please him ; he preferred the excitement of 
 games of chance, where little thought is required, 
 and where the caprices of Fortune may turn your 
 luck at any moment. 
 
 When he had finished his first dozen of 
 chairs, which were very neatly made and care- 
 fully polished, he spent his earnings and some 
 savings besides in buying a comfortable arm- 
 chair for Pierre, which went on large wheels, 
 and could be used as a little carriage when 
 the weather was fine.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 255 
 
 Manuel was deeply touched by Jonquille's 
 gratitude and the delight she showed, and 
 by Pierre's quiet but intense pleasure at this 
 present. 
 
 ' That's right, that's right,' he said abruptly ; 
 ' I owed you something for being so cross lately, 
 didn't I ? ' 
 
 The atmosphere seemed brighter both within 
 and without ; Manuel was more cheerful, and the 
 weather improved so that he was able to be out 
 more, which was a great relief to him. When he 
 felt a melancholy fit coming on he would seize 
 his hat and rush down the path, which he had 
 cut in the snow, by the side of the river. A 
 thaw had set in and the first fall of snow was 
 melting ; they would have a green Christmas 
 this year. 
 
 The swollen river rushed roaring by, but 
 the current was not too strong for the boat 
 to ply across ; and there were several night 
 expeditions undertaken at this time, which em- 
 ployed Manuel and kept him in good spirits. 
 After a night full of labour and risk he slept 
 soundly the next morning and was in a good 
 humour for the rest of the da}'. Jonquille's 
 fears were set at rest, and she wuiit about the
 
 256 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 house singing as gay as a lark on a spring 
 morning. 
 
 Manuel was determined to have a great feast 
 at Christmas and to ask all his comrades ; he 
 told Mother Salome to spare nothing, and to 
 order in plenty of provisions. The rabbits, 
 which had grown large and fat, had all sold 
 well except two which were reserved for the 
 supper on Christmas Eve. There was abund- 
 ance of everything in the house, for Manuel had 
 been fortunate in his sale of goods, and had 
 orders enough to last him three months. His 
 mother-in-law was delighted with a son-in-law 
 who spent freely, and had even given her a 
 beautiful brown cloth cloak, which she had 
 asked for, though she had no immediate use 
 for it. 
 
 ' One never knows/ she said to herself, as she 
 put it by in the cupboard ; 'perhaps he won't be 
 so generous next winter if there is one more to 
 provide for.' 
 
 She showed her appreciation of her son-in-law 
 by using all her culinary skill to please him, and 
 advised Jonquille to avoid any quarrels with a 
 husband who could earn so much. 
 
 'If you only coaxed him, you might get
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 257 
 
 anything out of him, even a silk dress,' she 
 said to her one day ; ' though I don't advise 
 you to invest much money in clothes, for they 
 spoil ; now a gold chain always fetches its 
 price, and you have something then to fall 
 back on in bad times. But you don't know 
 how to use your opportunities. Why, you 
 might coax anything out of him while you 
 are young and pretty, and he would only be 
 the better pleased ! ' 
 
 ' I shall never ask him for anything,' 
 answered Jonquille indignantly. ' Is he not 
 as generous as possible already to you and 
 Pierre ? ' 
 
 Manuel had decided that Constant should 
 l)e invited to the supper, and Constant accepted 
 readily, for he was glad to make up a quarrel 
 which hindered his business and prevented his 
 looking after it as closely as before. He had 
 become reconciled to the fact of Jonquille's 
 marriage, and as Manuel's business did not 
 seem to interfere with his, he was willing to 
 drop the quarrel for a time. 
 
 Although lie was no favourite among the 
 band, his presence at the supper made them 
 feel more at their ease, as his would have been 
 
 s
 
 258 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 the only vacant seat ; and now they were all 
 assembled as usual. 
 
 Of course Firmin made a speech ; indeed, he 
 made several getting up on the slightest occa- 
 sion and no one was inclined to refuse him a 
 hearing. He proposed toasts : concord, free 
 tobacco, and the ladies ; and this last pleased 
 Mother Salome very much. 
 
 Jonquille looked very pretty in her soft, dark 
 blue merino, which had been her wedding-dress. 
 Her brown curls were prettily arranged and kept 
 back from her face by an amber pin which her 
 husband had given her. Constant thought she 
 had improved in looks and manner, and she was 
 less sunburnt at this time of year. The lines 
 of the poet might have been quoted about her 
 
 ' Thy cheeks are neither white nor red, 
 Only of them it might be said, 
 The sunlight lingers here.' 
 
 Constant also remarked that she had grown 
 quieter; she laughed less and smiled oftener; her 
 hair seemed smoother, and her voice softer ; she 
 had kept all her old charms and gained new ones. 
 His eyes followed her everywhere, and he felt 
 delighted when she came and sat by him, ready to 
 show him that there was a complete reconciliation.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 259 
 
 He also had made himself as smart as he 
 could in honour of the festival. His hair had 
 been cut in the last fashion ; he had an imi- 
 tation opal pin in his spotted blue tie, and 
 he felt prepared to make himself as agreeable 
 as possible. He began by paying some compli- 
 ments to Jonquille, and at last ventured to 
 say that the sight of her wedding ring gave 
 him a pang ; but she only smiled and turned 
 the conversation and would not let him take 
 her hand. However, he fancied his compli- 
 mentary remarks had pleased her, and was 
 quite satisfied. Jonquille would not rouse her 
 husband's jealousy by repeating what Constant 
 had said ; he was passionate by nature, and it 
 was not worth while to disturb him with these 
 trifles. 
 
 It seemed, now that Christmas was past, 
 that the worst of the winter must be over, 
 but it was not so ; though the snow had 
 disappeared and people began to say, ' In a 
 few weeks spring will be here,' they were soon 
 disappointed. A storm came, and the snow 
 fell thick and fast, for winter does not easily 
 loose its hold of mountainous regions, but refuses 
 again and again to let the grass and ilowers
 
 260 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 appear. Manuel grew impatient, and his spirits 
 went down as the weather grew bad ; he had 
 been delighted at the prospect of getting about 
 again, for the long imprisonment had tried his 
 nerves. It may seem strange that a great, 
 strong man should be so sensitive, but his 
 pent-up energy made him restless and irritable. 
 
 He was tired of his carpentering work ; the 
 first zest of difficulties to be overcome had 
 passed away, and he was bored by making 
 chairs, now that the work was easy to him. 
 This sedentary occupation could not carry off 
 his superfluous energy, which was inclined to 
 explode like steam from being confined in 
 limits. He became quarrelsome and fitful in 
 temper, and Jonquille sometimes bore it 
 patiently, but sometimes rebelled, and then 
 matters became serious. 
 
 Constant had gone back to his old habit of 
 frequent calls, and Manuel did not approve of this. 
 
 ' Why can't he leave us alone ; do you like- 
 him, Jonquille ? I can't bear him since he 
 has become so polite ; pray don't encourage him 
 unless you wish me to quarrel with him.' 
 
 Instead of encouraging Jonquille rather 
 avoided Constant, whose attentions were becom-
 
 26l 
 
 ing embarrassing. Of course he meant nothing, 
 she said to herself, but she hoped Manuel would 
 not observe it. 
 
 Constant had come twice while the smugglers 
 were on expeditions, and Jonquille and her 
 mother were left alone ; he brought oranges for 
 Pierre and bonbons for Jonquille, but she 
 refused them, saying she did not care for sweets. 
 He left them on the table when he went away, 
 and Jonquille threw them at once into the river. 
 When her husband returned she told him of the 
 visitor she had had, and he threatened to buy a 
 dog who would eat up all prowling folk and 
 leave nothing but their boots to show they had 
 been there, and Jonquille laughed so heartily at 
 this idea that Manuel's anger was appeased. 
 He was longing for spring to come to get rid of 
 his gloomy thoughts. It was now the middle of 
 February, the time for snowdrops ; and on the 
 opposite river-bank the snow was melting and 
 the little green blades were beginning to appear, 
 and the white flowers nodded in the spring 
 breeze. Manuel crossed over in the boat and 
 picked a bunch of snowdrops for Jonquille. As 
 he was coming back he met a man o-oino- up to 
 
 O O O L 
 
 the house.
 
 262 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 ' Good day/ he said, ' what are you bringing 
 to our house ? ' 
 
 ' I have got a parcel for your wife/ he 
 answered ; ' the postman left it this morning at 
 our village and I brought it on ; take it please, 
 for I am in a hurry.' 
 
 He gave Manuel a little wooden box directed 
 to Madame Jonquille Vincent. Manuel thought 
 he knew the handwriting and examined it more 
 carefully ; surely all those flourishes reminded 
 him of Constant Loison's hand. Annoyed and 
 surprised, he hastened into the yard ; Jonquille 
 was leaning out of her window with a dreamy 
 look, but when she saw Manuel burst angrily 
 into her room she trembled. He held the bunch 
 of snowdrops in one hand and the box in the 
 other, looking at it suspiciously, as if he thought 
 it held dynamite. 
 
 ' What are you bringing me ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' If you open the parcel you will no doubt 
 find out/ he answered roughly. 
 
 She looked at the address and untied the 
 string. 
 
 ' How pretty ! ' she cried, as she took off the 
 lid of the box and saw a delicate bouquet of 
 pale roses. ' Who can have sent me that ? '
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 263 
 
 She looked up at her husband and blushed as she 
 saw signs of suspicion and anger on his face. 
 
 ' Can you really not guess who sent them ? ' 
 he said, making an effort to speak quietly. 
 
 ' Not the least bit in the world.' 
 
 ' Then why did you blush ? ' he asked, while 
 he involuntarily squeezed the poor snowdrops 
 which he held. 
 
 ' I don't know,' she answered coldly ; ' I 
 suppose because you looked so strangely at me.' 
 
 ' Ah, you women are cunning creatures ! ' he 
 exclaimed. ' Would you like me to tell you 
 who sent these roses ? ' 
 
 She only shrugged her shoulders. While 
 Manuel was speaking his fingers were pulling 
 the poor roses about and scattering their frail 
 petals. She, woman-like, could not bear to see 
 the flowers hurt 
 
 ' Don't spoil my roses ! ' she cried at length. 
 
 Her husband looked at her. 
 
 ' Oh ! you care about these roses, do you ? 
 1 had brought you some flowers too ; but you 
 shall see now what I am going to do with them. 1 
 
 He opened the window and threw the roses 
 and snowdrops pell-mell into the river. Jon- 
 quille said nothing, but seeing that her husband
 
 264 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 was thoroughly out of temper she got up to 
 leave the room, but he locked the door and 
 made his wife sit down again while he stood 
 before her with his arms crossed, looking at her. 
 She saw a convulsive movement in his throat 
 as if he were trying to stifle an outburst of 
 jealous rage ; his lips trembled, and his face was 
 very pale. 
 
 ' Jonquille/ he said at last in a deep voice 
 which sounded like the rumbling of distant 
 thunder, ' tell me the truth. I can't believe 
 that any one would send a woman flowers like 
 this, unless they were sure that she would guess 
 whom they came from. There is no letter or 
 card in the box ; the sender evidently thought 
 that that was unnecessary, and that you would 
 guess who the giver was. I recognised the hand- 
 writing, and I suppose you do too.' 
 
 ' No/ she answered, glancing at the box. 
 
 He bent down to her and seized both her 
 wrists. 
 
 ' Speak the truth/ he said ; ' if you have been 
 giddy and imprudent I will forgive you. But 
 you may remember that I warned you. I did 
 not suppose that he was so complimentary and 
 polite merely for my sake.'
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 265 
 
 ' Are you speaking of Constant Loison ? ' she 
 asked, throwing herself back in the chair. 
 
 Manuel laughed bitterly. 
 
 ' Did you not tell me yourself that he used to 
 come and see you while I was away ? ' 
 
 She turned pale with indignation. 
 
 ' Is this the way you turn my own words 
 against me, when I frankly told you of his 
 coming ? You may think what you like ; I shall 
 not trouble myself to defend my character to 
 you ? ' 
 
 She ran towards the door, forgetting that her 
 husband had locked it ; then, turning back 
 bafrled, she went to the window and leant her 
 head on her hands. Manuel stood silent, but 
 the sight of the box roused his anger again. 
 Yet perhaps Jouquille could explain matters, he 
 thought, and he drew near her saying 
 
 'Jonquille.' She made no answer. ' Jon- 
 quille,' he repeated, ' don't make me more angry. 
 I wish to be calm ; answer me now. Is this the 
 first time that Constant Loison has paid you 
 marked attention '? ' 
 
 He waited, but as she remained silent, with 
 her head hidden in her hands, he went on 
 
 'You are but a child, Jouquille ; perhnps you
 
 266 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 were imprudent or too familiar, and lie took 
 advantage of it ; tell me what happened.' 
 
 Still no answer. He seized her roughly by 
 the arm and obliged her to turn round and face 
 him, but he could see no sign of shame or fear 
 in her eyes. 
 
 ' Will you answer me ? ' he said, clenching his 
 teeth. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 ' You may think what you choose/ she said, 
 with an accent of scorn. 
 
 She stood there, proud, erect, obstinate, 
 braving his temper. He lost his self-control, a 
 mist passed before his eyes, a burst of anger 
 seemed to choke him, then he lifted his hand 
 and struck Jonquille. 
 
 She staggered at the blow, not from its 
 violence, but because it seemed to strike her to 
 the heart. She uttered a loud cry which made 
 Manuel tremble ; he saw his young wife lean 
 quivering against the wall, with one hand 
 stretched out as if to seek support ; but when 
 he drew near she motioned him away, and he 
 left the room. 
 
 The pangs of jealousy still troubled him, and 
 wandering absently down to the river he jumped
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 267 
 
 into the boat which lay moored there, and rowed 
 across to a wild spot, where he could remain 
 unseen and unobserved. The thought of what 
 he had done filled him with horror which almost 
 overpowered his jealousy. Had he really struck 
 his wife, or had he held his hand in time ? 
 Jonquille's cry answered him as it echoed in his 
 ears. She had provoked him, true, but was this 
 any excuse for his cowardice ? And now, who 
 would clear away his suspicions ? 
 
 He started up at the thought of Constant 
 Loison. Yes ; he should answer him ; he was a 
 man, and could be compelled to speak. Without 
 stopping to reflect Manuel walked quickly to the 
 town, which he reached in three hours, only to 
 find that Constant had left that morning on a 
 journey in connection with his master's business, 
 and he was not expected to return for several days. 
 
 He would have felt that he had had his 
 revenge if he could have seen the expression of 
 Manners face. Constant had not intended any 
 particular harm in sending Jonquille the flowers ; 
 he thought they might come while her husband 
 was away, in which case she would have time to 
 invent a story about them ; or if Manuel were 
 there, he would learn that the owner of a pretty
 
 268 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 wife must expect to have a little trouble about 
 her admirers. Constant, with his want of im- 
 agination, had thought of no worse results of his 
 little attention. 
 
 Manuel returned weary in body and full 
 of troubled thoughts ; he could not get rid of 
 his suspicions. As he entered the house he 
 saw Jonquille in the parlour, standing before 
 an old cupboard which was rarely opened. As 
 she turned her head he could see traces of 
 tears on her cheeks. But what was she doing ? 
 She was holding up tiny clothes which had 
 got yellow from lying by, while she fitted a 
 small cap, bordered with lace, on her closed 
 hand. ' What did all this mean ? ' thought 
 Manuel, deeply moved as he sprang to his 
 wife's side, and asked in a voice unlike his own 
 
 ' What are all these little things ? ' 
 
 Jonquille blushed. 
 
 'It means/ she said, closing the cupboard, 
 ' that in striking your wife, you struck your 
 child also.' Then she burst into tears and 
 whispered, ' Poor little thing ! ' as she hid her 
 face in her hands. 
 
 ' And you never told me ? ' he said in a voice 
 hardly audible.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 269 
 
 ' I was going to tell you this morning just 
 when you came in like a madman.' 
 
 Manuel turned away ; his cup of bitterness 
 was full. He spent the rest of the day 
 wandering about in gloomy silence, disgusted 
 with himself, with his life, and with the future 
 before him which he painted in the darkest 
 colours. He felt powerless against the force 
 of his own stormy, undisciplined nature, which 
 seemed destined to bring disaster on him. In 
 the evening he went up to see Pierre. 
 
 ' Do you know what I did to your sister ? ' he 
 asked abruptly. 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Why, I felt mad with anger, and struck her ! 
 She will never forgive me, and I can never for- 
 give myself.' 
 
 Pierre listened with dismay. 
 
 ' Look at me/ continued Manuel ; ' you won't 
 often see a more miserable wretch. It is my 
 fate ; I have a temper which will lead me a 
 dog's life.' 
 
 ' I am sure,' said Pierre in a trembling voice. 
 ' that Jonquille has forgiven you already.' 
 
 Manuel shook his head. 
 
 'They say that women forgive easily, but do
 
 270 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 they forget ? If I were to be a model husband 
 from now to my dying day Jonquille would 
 never forget that I raised my hand against 
 her like a coward. Nothing I can do will 
 ever blot that out. My happiness is at an 
 end ; I have done what can never be undone, 
 Pierre ; I would willingly sell myself for two 
 sous, and then Jonquille would be rid of me. 
 She would be happier without me.' 
 
 He walked up and down the room as he 
 spoke, getting more and more excited. At 
 last Pierre managed to calm him and said 
 
 ' There is nothing that cannot be mended. 
 Cheer up, Manuel ; God will help you in this 
 trouble ; doesn't He always help me, and why 
 should He not help you too ? ' 
 
 ' Ask Him,' said Manuel, ' for I do not know 
 how to ask.' 
 
 The next day he was still gloomy but calmer; 
 he spoke little, and Jonquille was touched by his 
 sorrow, for Pierre had told her all that had hap- 
 pened in his room. In the evening, when her 
 husband was preparing to start alone on an 
 expedition, she went up to him timidly and, 
 putting her hand on his shoulder, said 
 
 ' You don't really think that I allowed Con-
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 271 
 
 stant to make love to me ? I never said a word 
 to him nor had a thought about him which you 
 might not have known.' 
 
 ' Yes, I am sure of that ; the moment you 
 spoke about the child I knew it,' he answered 
 slowly. 
 
 They were both silent, then he stooped and 
 kissed her, saying 
 
 ' Go and take a rest, you must need it ; 
 the moon sets an hour after midnight ; I shall 
 not start till then. Say good -night to Pierre 
 from me ; or no, I will go and see him my- 
 self/ he added, and he went quietly upstairs 
 into Pierre's room. The boy was in bed, but 
 was still awake. 
 
 ' Are you going alone to-night, Manuel ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 ' Yes ; the others have taken a holiday. But 
 what does it matter? It is not the first time 
 I have gone without them, and for a fellow 
 like me, solitude is better than company. Good- 
 night, my boy.' 
 
 ' Good-night, Manuel ; don't be imprudent.' 
 
 The smuggler shrugged his shoulders and 
 left the room. AVheu the time came to start 
 he heard a soft step on the stairs and saw
 
 272 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Jonquille coming down, wrapped up in a large 
 shawl. 
 
 ' I will row you across and bring the boat 
 back,' she said ; ' otherwise the current might 
 carry it down, as it happened once before.' 
 
 ' Poor child ! ' said Manuel tenderly ; ' I lead 
 you a hard life ; you have no rest by day or 
 night.' 
 
 The only answer she gave. was to lean her 
 cheek against his shoulder. 
 
 They crossed the river together, and Manuel 
 waited to see that his young wife reached the 
 other side safely before he started on his way. 
 The moon had set behind the trees, but the 
 sky was still full of silvery light. Manuel, 
 with his pack on his shoulders, chose one of 
 the easier paths, for the ravine was too difficult 
 a road to go alone, He plodded on slowly, as 
 if the burden of his thoughts weighed him 
 down. At the first turn in the path he stopped 
 to look back. Below him was the deep gorge, 
 full of darkness except for one tiny speck of 
 trembling light, which looked as if a breath 
 would blow it out. Manuel thought that this 
 dark valley was like his own past life, and 
 he asked himself whether the lamp of Jonquille's
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 273 
 
 love would be able to live on or would be ex- 
 tinguished by his stormy passions ? 
 
 ' When she has a little child, fair and smiling, 
 on her knees,' he said to himself, ' she will no 
 longer care for a jealous, violent man like myself. 
 Poor child! what kind of father shall I be to him?' 
 
 Then he went on his way and did not stop till 
 he reached the bend of the gorge, where he sat 
 down to take breath, and began again to reflect 
 on his past life. All at once his keen eyes saw 
 shadows moving in the bushes, and he found out 
 just in time that the path was watched. Ill-luck 
 seemed to follow r him that night, for the next out- 
 let of the gorge which he tried was also guarded. 
 The whole body of Custom-House men seemed to 
 be on duty that night. 
 
 He wandered a long time under the trees, 
 not daring to leave their sheltering; o-loom. but 
 
 o o o 
 
 at last, when he was on the edge of the wood, two 
 men sa\v him and ran after him. He was more 
 active than they were and managed to escape, 
 but found himself obliged to give up all idea of 
 crossing the frontier that night. 
 
 ' I should lose my pack.' thought ^lanuel : ' 1 
 am unlucky to-night and no mislakr.' 
 
 A\ hen day dawned lie found himself, after 
 
 T
 
 274 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 walking and hiding for five hours, by the river- 
 side. 
 
 Jonquille was sleeping lightly for a state of 
 watchfulness is habitual to a smuggler's wife 
 when she was awoke suddenly from a painful 
 dream by a call of 'Jonquille, Jonquille ! ' 
 
 She got up hastily and rushed to the window ; 
 her husband was standing on the opposite shore, 
 calling and making frantic signs to her. She 
 dressed as quickly as possible and ran down- 
 stairs, unbolting the door gently for fear of 
 waking Pierre. The cold morning air made her 
 shiver. 
 
 ' Be quick ! ' cried her husband ; ' they are 
 coming.' 
 
 She looked up in terror and saw two men 
 running down the bank ; and she could tell by 
 their dress that they were Custom -House men. 
 Without losing a moment she stepped into the 
 boat and rowed witii all her strength against the 
 stream. The men were close to Manuel ; in half 
 a minute they would seize him, and the boat had 
 not quite reached the shore. 
 
 ' Jump in, Manuel ! ' cried Jonquille, going to 
 the end of the boat farthest from him that he 
 might have room to jump.
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 275 
 
 He was standing on a rock, and active and 
 fearless gave a leap just as one of the men 
 was touching him ; the boat swayed under his 
 weight as he jumped in, the oar on which 
 Jonquille was leaning gave way, and she lost 
 her balance and fell with a loud cry into the 
 river. 
 
 Manuel, pale with fear, threw off his coat and 
 plunged at once into the water. He was no 
 great swimmer, but he soon reappeared on the 
 surface, holding Jonquille by the arm. 
 
 The current was strong, for the melting snow 
 added to its force at this time of year, and it was 
 almost impossible to struggle against it, especi- 
 ally at this point where it seemed to sweep 
 along exuLtingly after leaping the dam. Manuel, 
 Jon<.|uille, and the boat drifted helplessly down 
 the swift river, while the two Custom-House men 
 on the shore tried in vain to give help. 
 
 Jonquille, who had never lost consciousness, 
 clung to the boat and was upheld by flannel, 
 whose one thought was to save his wile ; his 
 own life was but little worth in comparison with 
 hers. 
 
 All at once they were swept into a whirlpool, 
 and the boat veering suddenly round, its sharp
 
 276 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 prow struck Manuel on the temple, and he lost 
 his grasp of his wife's arm, and sank with a 
 groan. 
 
 Jonquille was conscious of nothing after this 
 terrible blow, but a counter current drove the 
 boat on shore while she still clung to it, and she 
 was saved. One of the men stayed with her 
 while the other ran down the bank to look for 
 her husband's body ; it was found at last, and 
 when Jonquille recovered her consciousness, she 
 was told that it was washed ashore in a little 
 bay. It was the very spot where she had often 
 sat and watched the stars reflected in the quiet 
 water.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 MANUEL VINCENT was dead. His end had been 
 tragic and befitting his life, which, though seem- 
 ingly commonplace, had been full of storm and 
 passion. Yet a peaceful look lay on the marble- 
 like features which had so often been convulsed 
 by passion, and a smile seemed to hover about 
 the lips, as if they had murmured the name of 
 Jonquille before silence had sealed them for ever. 
 He had redeemed his faults towards her in that 
 one last act of self-devotion he had given his 
 life for her. Perhaps, in his dying moments, 
 peace had for the first time visited his soul, and 
 lie bid adieu to life without a pang, being ready 
 to say with the Apostle, ' It is better for me to 
 depart,' 
 
 Jonquille's only consolation was to watch 
 the mysterious calm expression of his face ; she 
 could not oive ear to the words of friends, but.
 
 278 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 sitting by the bed where Manuel lay, she looked 
 at him with wide-open, tearless eyes, which 
 gazed on death for the first time and found it a 
 strange and unfathomable mystery. Did he not 
 seem to lie there in all the vigour of youth, 
 except for that awful pallor which showed that 
 the young life and strength had passed away 
 from the rigid form ? 
 
 Jonquille sat outwardly calm as long as she 
 was allowed to be alone by her dead husband, 
 talking to him in low tones, as if he were still 
 with her and could answer her. 
 
 ' How quiet you are. Are you indeed happier 
 now ? Ah, Manuel, Manuel ! you never smiled 
 so sweetly while you were by my side. I did 
 not know how to make you happy.' 
 
 When they tried to lead her out of the room 
 she refused to go, saying 
 
 ' They will take him away soon enough ; let 
 me stay here.' But when at last his comrades 
 bore him to his grave, and she watched them go 
 and felt she was indeed alone, her sorro \v broke out, 
 and kneeling by Pierre's side, she bowed her head, 
 and the deep waters of anguish overwhelmed her. 
 
 For days she could not utter a word or 
 struo'Sfle asfainst her grief ; she could do nothing 
 
 oo o o * o
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 279 
 
 but bend her head beneath the stroke and 
 suffer. 
 
 ' Why was he taken ? Why are the useless, 
 helpless ones left ? ' said Pierre in a low tone. 
 ' I ought to have been taken, and he should 
 have been left.' 
 
 Jonquille heard him, and rousing herself 
 suddenly from the torpor which had fallen on 
 her, she threw both her arms round her brother's 
 neck, exclaiming 
 
 ' Oh, don't talk like that ! Perhaps God may 
 hear you and take you away from me too.' 
 
 Then she burst into tears and sobbed passion- 
 ately till, exhausted with emotion, she fell asleep 
 like a tired child. 
 
 Mother Salome, in the meantime, went about 
 the house, up and dow T n, like a soul in purgatory. 
 She had loved Manuel like a son ; he was so 
 brave and strong, and now she grieved for him 
 as much as she could grieve for anything. She 
 would handle almost tenderly the little presents 
 he had given her, and would look half a dozen 
 times a day at the fine brown cloth cloak lie had 
 Given her. while she thought, ' Yes, 1 was rioiit 
 
 O 7 O 7 o 
 
 to ask for it when I did ; he won't give me any 
 more presents next winter, poor lad ; ' and she
 
 280 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 would wipe her eyes with her apron, and then 
 do her best to console Jonquille, whom she 
 treated more kindly than formerly. One day 
 she said to her 
 
 ' We have had a great loss, my poor girl ; it 
 breaks my heart to see you there in your widow's 
 dress ; but your husband, you see, was one of 
 those unlucky men who are never satisfied ; he 
 was neither good enough nor bad enough to get 
 on in this world ; he was always wanting some- 
 thing, or regretting something, instead of making 
 the best of things ; and he was getting gloomy, 
 and would have taken to drink, I am afraid.' 
 
 Jonquille trembled, and got up and went 
 away. This thought had already come into her 
 mind, but she would not harbour it ; it seemed 
 like treachery to Manuel's memory. Her dead 
 husband, who had given his life for her, was far 
 dearer to her now than he had ever been before. 
 
 ' I do hope my child will be a boy,' she 
 thought, as she stitched away at all the little 
 garments she was preparing. 
 
 Her wish was granted, and six months later 
 Mother Salome held in her arms a fine boy, whom 
 she swaddled up with trembling fingers. 
 
 ' He has his father's eyes,' she said, as she
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 held him up to Jonquille, whose cheeks \vere wet 
 with tears of mingled joy and sorrow. 
 
 The smugglers came to pay their respects as 
 soon as they were allowed, and each one wanted 
 to stand godfather to Manuel's boy. 
 
 ' No/ said Jonquille, shaking her head ; ' we 
 must go our different ways now. My mother 
 and I have agreed to give up our old life ; she is 
 getting on in years and is weary of it. We 
 shall sell the old house and settle somewhere 
 else. We three can live on little. We shall 
 try to have a garden, and a woman can generally 
 get some work to do at home. I shall learn to 
 iron fine linen.' 
 
 Firmin Mitou was against this. 
 
 ' It won't do, Jonquille ; you can't do that 
 sort of work/ 
 
 ' 1 am changed,' she answered, with such a 
 
 O 7 
 
 sad smile that Firmin was obliged to turn his 
 head away to hide his emotion. 
 
 ' I don't know what will become of all of us ; 
 we were so accustomed to this old place ; and 
 now \ve must look for another rendezvous,' he 
 said. 
 
 'Unless one of us buys it. Constant Loison 
 \vould be rich enouuii to do that.' said Arsene.
 
 282 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 
 
 Jonquille made a gesture of strong disapproval, 
 and exclaimed 
 
 ' He shall not have it if he paid ever so much 
 for it. It was he who made us have a quarrel 
 the day before the day before ' 
 
 She could say no more, but only pressed her 
 child closer to her. She was sitting by the 
 window in her black dress, with her pretty head 
 slightly bent as if under the weight of sorrow ; a 
 calmer, graver beauty seemed now to be hers as 
 she sat with her child on her knees in the new 
 dignity of a mother. The child opened its eyes 
 and she bent over it. Ah ! those were indeed 
 Manuel's eyes ; and she, who had been struck 
 down by his loss, felt that her interest in life 
 was waking up with the advent of this new little 
 life which was opening like a bud in the midst 
 of winter. 
 
 Firmin, with his rough fingers, gently stroked 
 the innocent little face which peered out of the 
 cap border. 
 
 ' I see,' he said, addressing the unconscious 
 infant in a low voice, ' I see by your mother's 
 look that you will never be a smuggler. Perhaps 
 she is right ; as for us, we are in the mud and 
 must stick in it. 1 think I should like to do as
 
 THE SWISS SMUGGLER 283 
 
 Manuel did, if you will forgive my saying so, 
 Madame Jonquille, and start on my own account. 
 If we all do that, Constant Loison will be puzzled 
 how to manage ; ' and he stroked his beard, as if 
 he were pleased at having had such a good idea, 
 and then went on : ' You see, it is all we are good 
 for ; we know the business, and the business 
 knows us. Sometimes we have misfortunes ; 
 but who can foretell ? Come, Jonquille, wish me 
 good luck. So you will never row us across 
 the stream again ? ' 
 
 At these words Jonquille grew red, and her 
 eyes filled with tears as she remembered the days 
 that were no more. She rose, with her child in 
 her arms, and sat down close by Pierre, who 
 always understood her better than any one else. 
 He took hold of his sister's hand with his thin 
 fingers, which seemed to have grown more frail 
 than ever. 
 
 ' We two together,' she said to him, ' will 
 
 O 7 
 
 bring up my little boy, and, with God's help, he 
 shall have a happier life than his father.' 
 
 Tin-: END
 
 Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh