In consequence I learnt to read--and though I do not know _how_, I can say _why_: I wanted to read about the history, the habits, the instincts of the animals whose portraits I looked at. The result of this interest of mine in batrachians, and especially in ophidians, was such that, at the age when children are still spelling, I had already read all the books other which form a child's library. While at Madame Darcourt's house I experienced the sensation of fear for the first time--a feeling hitherto totally unknown to me. My mania for reading extended in every direction, even to newspapers--in later years so little read by me. One day I came upon the _Journal de l'Empire_, and I read in it a short article relating how a prisoner, entombed in the dungeons of Amiens, had been devoured there by a snake. I had hitherto looked upon snakes as monsters, if not altogether mythical yet belonging to quite another part of the globe than ours. In Buffon, or rather in Daudin's continuation of him, snakes had been a constant source of curiosity to me; after reading the _Journal de l'Empire_, they inspired me with the greatest terror. The evening I read that fatal article I pretended to be absorbed in reading _Robinson Crusoe_, and I asked to be allowed to sit up as late as possible, meaning until my mother should herself go to bed. The favour was readily granted me; but when the same excuse was renewed the next day, the day after that and several nights running, I was compelled to give an explanation. I recounted the story of the prisoner of Amiens, and I confessed that if I went to bed by myself I should be afraid of being eaten up by a snake. My mother was greatly surprised at this confession, for I had been so brave hitherto. She did her utmost to reason away my fears, but reason failed in the face of instinct, and time alone softened although it did not altogether efface the recollection of that awful picture. Next to Madame Darcourt's house--to which I shall again have occasion to refer--were the other two households who were so hospitable to us in our misfortunes, those of M. Deviolaine and M. Collard. M. Deviolaine was our cousin by marriage; he had married a niece of my grandfather, who, as she was an orphan, had been brought up with my mother in our family circle; furthermore, he had been my father's intimate friend. M. Deviolaine was Inspector of Forests for the district of Villers-Cotterets, which gave him a leading position in our little town; and quite naturally, too, since there were only 2400 inhabitants in the town, whereas the forest covered 50,000 acres. M. Deviolaine was a great dignitary in my eyes, not so much because of the above-mentioned reason, but because, in virtue of the position he held, he could grant leave to shoot in the forest, and to go hunting freely some day in that forest was one of the ambitions of my childhood.