She takes the candle from the table, snuffs the wick into a brighter blaze, and moves softly toward the couch. The Prodigal's face is turned upward. Mamma scans it closely, and then brings the candle very near to the closed eyes, waving it to and fro rapidly. There is no slow awakening here. The two hands of the sleeper, which have rested in seeming carelessness loosely at his sides, move swiftly and simultaneously with his body. And Mamma's only consciousness is that of more meteors than could by any possibility emanate from one candle, and a sudden shock to her whole frame. She is sitting upon the floor, clutching wildly at the candle, while Franz, a dangerous-looking revolver in either hand, is glaring fiercely about him. And all this in scarce ten seconds! "Wot's up?" queries Franz shortly, "wot the dickens--" Papa comes forward, chuckling softly, but keeping cautiously out of range of the two weapons. And Mamma begins to scramble to her feet. "Hullo!" says Franz, as he seems to notice Mamma's position for the first time; "wot ails _you_?" Papa is so amused that he giggles audibly; he was never heard to laugh an honest laugh. "Git up, old lady," commands Franz, withdrawing his eyes from Mamma; and he stands as at first, until she has risen. Then he glances sharply about the room, and asks impatiently: "Come, now, what have ye been up to?" "Ye see, Franzy," begins Mamma in a conciliating tone, "I went ter take a look at ye--" "Oh, ye did!" "With the candle in my hand." "Jest so; an' to get a good look, ye stuck it pretty close to my eyes. Wanted to see ef I was asleep, or playin' possum, eh? Wall," replacing one revolver in a hip-pocket, and trifling carelessly with the other, while he seats himself upon the couch, "what did ye find out?" Though his tone was one of quiet mockery, there was an angry gleam in his eyes, and neither Papa nor Mamma ventured a reply. [Illustration: "Mamma brings the candle very near to the closed eyes, waving it to and fro, rapidly."--page 309.] "I'll tell ye what ye discovered, an' it may be a good lesson fer ye," he goes on in a low tone that was full of fierce intensity. "Ye have discovered that Franz Francoise asleep, and the same feller awake, are pretty much alike. It's jest as onsafe to trifle with one as with the other. I've slept nearly ten years o' my life with every nerve in me waitin' fer a sign to wake quick and active. I've taught myself to go to sleep always with the same idea runnin' in my head. An' since I got out o' that pen down there, I'm always armed, and I'm always ready. The brush of a fly'll wake me, and it'll take me just five seconds to shoot. So when ye experiment 'round me agin, ye want to fly kinder light. And, old woman, ye may thank yer stars that ye was so close ter me that ye didn't come in for nothin' more'n a tumble." He sits quite still for a few moments, and then rising slowly, goes over and seats himself on the edge of the table near which Papa stands.