took up a little collection
among his devotees for the purpose of adorning his church with some
frightful red and gilded statues, denounced, in a letter to the
_Siecle_, the cupidity of the Jesuits.

The Captain having gone out one evening for some cigars after an
animated political discussion, the aforesaid veterinary grumbled to
himself certain phrases of heavy irritation concerning "coming to the
point," and "a mere fencing-master," and "cutting a figure." But as the
object of these vague menaces suddenly returned, whistling a march and
beating time with his cane, the incident was without result.

In short, the group lived harmoniously together, and willingly permitted
themselves to be presided over by the new-comer, whose white beard and
martial bearing were quite impressive. And the small city, proud of so
many things, was also proud of its retired Captain.

III.

Perfect happiness exists nowhere, and Captain Mercadier, who believed
that he had found it at the Cafe Prosper, soon recovered from his
illusion.

For one thing, on Mondays, the market-day, the Cafe Prosper was
untenantable.

From early morning it was overrun with truck-peddlers, farmers, and
poultrymen. Heavy men with coarse voices, red necks, and great whips in
their hands, wearing blue blouses and otter-skin caps, bargaining over
their cups, stamping their feet, striking their fists, familiar with the
servant, and bungling at billiards.

When the Captain came, at eleven o'clock, for his first glass of
absinthe, he found this crowd gathered, and already half-drunk, ordering
a quantity of lunches. His usual place was taken, and he was served
slowly and badly. The bell was continually sounding, and the proprietor
and the waiter, with napkins under their arms, were running distractedly
hither and thither. In short, it was an ill-omened day, which upset his
entire existence.

[Illustration]

Now, one Monday morning, when he was resting quietly at home, being sure
that the cafe would be much too full and busy, the mild radiance of the
autumn sun persuaded him to go down and sit upon the stone seat by the
side of the house. He was sitting there, depressed and smoking a damp
cigar, when he saw coming down the end of the street--it was a badly
paved lane leading out into the country--a little girl of eight or ten,
driving before her a half-dozen geese.

As the Captain looked carelessly at the child he saw that she had a
wooden leg.

There was