aid it down on the grass beside him.

It was night now. The two unhappy beings, exhausted, had almost loosened
their grasp. The elder, at last, feeling that he was lost, murmured once
more: "Good-by, little brother, kiss mamma and papa." And his numbed
fingers relaxed their hold. He sank and did not rise again . . . . The
little fellow, left alone, began to shout wildly: "Paul! Paul!" But the
other did not come to the surface.

Then he darted across the mountain, falling among the stones, overcome by
the most frightful anguish that can wring a child's heart, and with a
face like death reached the sitting-room, where his parents were waiting.
He became bewildered again as he led them to the gloomy reservoir. He
could not find his way. At last he reached the spot. "It is there; yes,
it is there!"

But the cistern had to be emptied, and the proprietor would not permit it
as he needed the water for his lemon trees.

The two bodies were found, however, but not until the next day.

You see, my dear friend, that this is a simple news item. But if you had
seen the hole itself your heart would have been wrung, as mine was, at
the thought of the agony of that child hanging to his brother's hands, of
the long suspense of those little chaps who were accustomed only to laugh
and to play, and at the simple incident of the giving of the watch.

I said to myself: "May Fate preserve me from ever receiving a similar
relic!" I know of nothing more terrible than such a recollection
connected with a familiar object that one cannot dispose of. Only think
of it; each time that he handles this sacred watch the survivor will
picture once more the horrible scene; the pool, the wall, the still
water, and the distracted face of his brother-alive, and yet as lost as
though he were already dead. And all through his life, at any moment, the
vision will be there, awakened the instant even the tip of his finger
touches his watch pocket.

And I was sad until evening. I left the spot and kept on climbing,
leaving the region of orange trees for the region of olive trees, and the
region of olive trees for the region of pines; then I came to a valley of
stones, and finally reached the ruins of an ancient castle, built, they
say, in the tenth century by a Saracen chief, a good man, who was
baptized a Christian through love for a young girl. Everywhere around me
were mountains, and before me the sea, the sea with an almost
imperceptible patch on it: Co