f you has taken the fruit that was gathered in your uncle
the canon's garden?"

"I did not!" "Nor I!" "Nor I!" cried they all. But Eliza's voice was
lower and less assured than those of the others.

"And you, Napoleon?"

"I have said, papa, that I did not do it."

"That's a falsehood!" exclaimed Severia, who, being an old domestic,
took great liberties.

"If you were not a woman!" said Napoleon, shaking his small clenched
hand at her.

"Silence! Napoleon," said his father, sternly.

"It must have been you, Napoleon," said Severia; "for after putting the
fruit into the cupboard, I never left the ante-room, and not a soul
passed through except the archdeacon and yourself. If he has not taken
them--"

"I wish truly I had," said the old gentleman, "and then I should not
have the grief of seeing one of my children persist in a lie."

"Uncle, I am not guilty," repeated Napoleon firmly.

"Do not be obstinate, but confess," said his father.

"Yes," added the canon; "'tis the only way to escape punishment."

"But I never touched the fruit--indeed, I did not."

"Napoleon," said his uncle, "I can not believe you. I shall give you
five minutes; and if, at the end of that time, you do not confess, and
ask for pardon, I shall whip you."

"A whip is for horses and dogs, not for children!" said the boy.

"A whip is for disobedient, lying children," replied his father.

"Then 'tis unjust to give it me, for I am neither a liar nor
disobedient." So saying, Napoleon crossed his arms on his chest, and
settled himself in a firm attitude.

Meantime his brothers and his sister Pauline came close to him, and
whispered good-natured entreaties that he would confess.

"But how can I, when I have not done wrong?"

"So you are still obstinate?" said his uncle. And taking him by the arm,
he led him into the next room. Presently the sound of sharp repeated
blows was heard, but not a cry or complaint from the little sufferer.

Madame Bonaparte was away from home, and in the evening her husband went
to meet her, accompanied by Joseph, Lucien, and Eliza. M. Fesch and the
canon were also about to depart, and in passing through the ante-room,
they saw Napoleon standing, pale and grave, but proud, and firm-looking
as before.

"Well, my child," said his father, "I hope you will now ask your uncle's
pardon?"

"I did not touch the fruit, papa."

"Still obstinate! As the rod will not do, I shall try another method.
Your mother, bro