was expected home.

As for Lucien, nothing, he said, would make him leave Corsica. He
belonged to the island, and could not live without its torrents, its
rocks, and its forests. The physical resemblance between himself and his
brother, he told me, was very great; but there was considerable
difference of temperament.

Having completed my own change of dress, I went into Lucien's room, at
his suggestion. It was a regular armoury, and all the furniture was at
least 300 years old.

While my host put on the dress of a mountaineer, for he mentioned to me
that he had to attend a meeting after supper, he told me the history of
some of the carbines and daggers that hung round the room. Of a truth,
he came of an utterly fearless stock, to whom death was of small account
by the side of courage and honour.

At supper, Madame de Franchi could not help expressing her anxiety for
her absent son. No letter had been received, but Lucien for days had
been feeling wretched and depressed.

"We are twins," he said simply, "and however greatly we are separated,
we have one and the same body, as we had at our birth. When anything
happens to one of us, be it physical or mental, it at once affects the
other. I know that Louis is not dead, for I should have seen him again
in that case."

"You would have told me if he had come?" said Madame de Franchi
anxiously.

"At the very moment, mother."

I was amazed. Neither of them seemed to express the slightest doubt or
surprise at this extraordinary statement.

Lucien went on to regret the passing of the old customs of Corsica. His
very brother had succumbed to the French spirit, and on his return would
settle down as an advocate at Ajaccio, and probably prosecute men who
killed their enemies in a vendetta. "And I, too, am engaged in affairs
unworthy of a De Franchi," he concluded. "You have come to Corsica with
curiosity about its inhabitants. If you care to set out with me after
supper, I will show you a real bandit."

I accepted the invitation with pleasure.

_II.--M. Luden de Franchi_

Lucien explained to me the object of our expedition. For ten years the
village of Sullacro had been divided over the quarrel of two families,
the Orlandi and the Colona--a quarrel that had originated in the seizure
of a paltry hen belonging to the Orlandi, which had flown into the
poultry-yard of the Colonas. Nine people had already been killed in this
feud, and now Lucien, as arbitrator, was to