lden curls. If it was necessary to punish
Philip, they had only to deprive him of the society of Dolores. But
unfortunately this punishment, the most severe that could be inflicted
upon him, grieved his sister as much as it did him, so it was used
rarely and only in grave cases. One of the favorite amusements of the
two children was to walk with Coursegol, and this was not a delight to
them alone, for that faithful fellow was never so happy as when roving
about the fields with them.

Often, during those lovely spring mornings that are so charming in the
south, they descended the hill and strolled along the banks of the
Garden. The delicately-tinted willows that grew on the banks drooped
over the stream, caressing it with their flexible branches. Above the
willows, fig trees, olives and vineyards covered the base of the hill
with foliage of a darker hue, which in turn contrasted with the still
deeper green of the cypress trees and pines that grew upon the rocky
sides of the cliff. This luxuriant vegetation, of tints as varied as
those of an artist's palette, mirrored itself in the clear waters below
together with the arches of the massive Pont du Gard, whose bold yet
graceful curves were festooned with a dense growth of creeping vines.

Coursegol called the children's attention to the beauties of the scene,
thus awakening in their young hearts appreciation of the countless
charms of nature. They played in the sand; they fished for silver carp;
hunted for birds' nests among the reeds. There were merry shouts of
laughter, continual surprises and numberless questions. In answering
these, all Coursegol's rather primitive but trusty knowledge on
scientific subjects was called into requisition. When they returned
home they were obliged to pass the cave, and Dolores, who knew nothing
of her history, often entered it in company with Philip if they found it
unoccupied by the much-dreaded gypsies.

At certain seasons of the year, early in the spring and late in the
summer, roving bands of Bohemians encamped on the banks of the Gardon,
and Philip and Dolores took good care not to approach them, especially
after an evening when an old gypsy woman, struck perhaps by the child's
resemblance to Tiepoletta, pointed Dolores out to some of the tribe who
went into ecstasies over her beauty. One of the gypsies approached the
children to beg, which so terrified them that they clung frantically to
Coursegol, who found it difficult to reassu