n you be held up there?"

"How stupid you are!" returned the captive. "I shall only pretend to
be hung, of course. See here!" and he fastened together several pieces
strong string which had tied some of the other boys' books, piled the
latter together, and standing on tiptoe on this very insecure basis,
fastened one end of the cord to a horizontal bough, and put his neck
into a running knot at the other end, endeavouring to imitate the
contortions of an actual sufferer. Shouts of laughter greeted him, and
the victim laughed loudest of all. Three archers went to call the rest
to behold this amusing spectacle; one, tired out, remained with the
prisoner.

"Ah, Hangman," said Pierre, putting out his tongue at him, "are the
books firm? I thought I felt them give way."

"No," replied Antoine; it was he who remained. "Don't be afraid,
Pierre."

"It is a good thing; for if they fell I don't think the cord is long
enough."

"Don't you really think so?"

A horrible thought showed itself like a flash on the child's face. He
resembled a young hyena scenting blood for the first time. He glanced
at the pile of books Pierre was standing on, and compared it with the
length of the cord between the branch and his neck. It was already
nearly dark, the shadows were deepening in the wood, gleams of pale
light penetrated between the trees, the leaves had become black and
rustled in the wind. Antoine stood silent and motionless, listening if
any sound could be heard near them.

It would be a curious study for the moralist to observe how the first
thought of crime develops itself in the recesses of the human heart,
and how this poisoned germ grows and stifles all other sentiments; an
impressive lesson might be gathered from this struggle of two opposing
principles, however weak it may be, in perverted natures. In cases where
judgment can discern, where there is power to choose between good and
evil, the guilty person has only himself to blame, and the most heinous
crime is only the action of its perpetrator. It is a human action, the
result of passions which might have been controlled, and one's mind is
not uncertain, nor one's conscience doubtful, as to the guilt. But how
can one conceive this taste for murder in a young child, how imagine it,
without being tempted to exchange the idea of eternal sovereign justice
for that of blind-fatality? How can one judge without hesitation between
the moral sense which has given way and the inst