"Very well, this child is the first of his race to commit treason." Fortunato's sobs and gasps redoubled as Falcone kept his lynx-eyes upon him. Then he struck the earth with his gun-stock, shouldered the weapon, and turned in the direction of the mâquis, calling to Fortunato to follow. The boy obeyed. Giuseppa hastened after Mateo and seized his arm. "He is your son," said she with a trembling voice, fastening her black eyes on those of her husband to read what was going on in his heart. "Leave me alone," said Mateo, "I am his father." Giuseppa embraced her son, and bursting into tears entered the house. She threw herself on her knees before an image of the Virgin and prayed ardently. In the meanwhile Falcone walked some two hundred paces along the path and only stopped when he reached a little ravine which he descended. He tried the earth with the butt-end of his carbine, and found it soft and easy to dig. The place seemed to be convenient for his design. "Fortunato, go close to that big rock there." The child did as he was commanded, then he kneeled. "Say your prayers." "Oh, father, father, do not kill me!" "Say your prayers!" repeated Mateo in a terrible voice. The boy, stammering and sobbing, recited the Pater and the Credo. At the end of each prayer the father loudly answered, "Amen!" "Are those all the prayers you know?" "Oh! father, I know the Ave Maria and the litany that my aunt taught me." "It is very long, but no matter." The child finished the litany in a scarcely audible tone. "Are you finished?" "Oh! my father, have mercy! Pardon me! I will never do so again. I will beg my cousin, the Caporal, to pardon Gianetto." He was still speaking. Mateo raised his gun, and, taking aim, said: "May God pardon you!" The boy made a desperate effort to rise and grasp his father's knees, but there was not time. Mateo fired and Fortunato fell dead. Without casting a glance on the body, Mateo returned to the house for a spade with which to bury his son. He had gone but a few steps when he met Giuseppa, who, alarmed by the shot, was hastening hither. "What have you done?" cried she. "Justice." "Where is he?" "In the ravine. I am going to bury him. He died a Christian. I shall have a mass said for him. Have my son-in-law, Tiodoro Bianchi, sent for to come and live with us." THE MIRROR BY CATULLE MENDES There was once a kingdom where mirrors were unknown. They had all been broken and reduced to fragments by order of the queen, and if the tiniest bit of looking-glass had been found in any house, she would not have hesitated to put all the inmates to death with the most frightful tortures. Now for the secret of this extraordinary caprice. The queen was dreadfully ugly, and she did not wish to be exposed to the risk of meeting her own image; and, knowing herself to be hideous, it was a consolation to know that other women at least could not see that they were pretty.