With a single glance he took me all in, my luggage, my arms, the dress I had just taken off, and that which I had just donned. His glance was as rapid and as sure as that of a man whose very life may depend upon a hasty survey of his surroundings. "I trust you will excuse me if I disturb you," he said; "but I come with good intentions. I wish to see if you require anything. I am always somewhat uneasy when any of you gentlemen from the continent pay us a visit, for we are still so uncivilized, we Corsicans, that it is really with fear and trembling that we exercise, particularly to Frenchmen, our own hospitality, which will, I fear, soon be the only thing that will remain to us." "You have no reason to fear," I replied; "it would be difficult to say what more a traveller can require beyond what Madame de Franchi has supplied. Besides," I continued, glancing round the apartment, "I must confess I do not perceive any of the want of civilization you speak of so frankly, and were it not for the charming prospect from those windows, I should fancy myself in an apartment in the Chaussee d'Antin." "Yes," returned the young man, "it is rather a mania with my poor brother Louis; he is so fond of living _à la Française;_ but I very much doubt whether, when he leaves Paris, the poor attempt at civilization here will appear to him sufficient on his return home as it formerly did." "Has your brother been long away from Corsica?" I inquired. "For the last ten months." "You expect him back soon?" "Oh, not for three or four years." "That is a very long separation for two brothers, who probably were never parted before." "Yes, and particularly if they love each other as we do." "No doubt he will come to see you before he finishes his studies?" "Probably; he has promised us so much, at least." "In any case, nothing need prevent you from paying him a visit?" "No, I never leave Corsica." There was in his tone, as he made this reply, that love of country which astonishes the rest of the universe. I smiled. "It appears strange to you," he said, smiling in his turn, "when I tell you that I do not wish to leave a miserable country like ours; but you must know that I am as much a growth of the island as the oak or the laurel; the air I breathe must be impregnated with the odours of the sea and of the mountains. I must have torrents to cross, rocks to scale, forests to explore. I must have space; liberty is necessary to me, and if you were to take me to live in a town I believe I should die." "But how is it there is such a great difference between you and your brother in this respect?" "And you would add with so great a physical resemblance, if you knew him." "Are you, then, so very much alike?" "So much so, that when we were children our parents were obliged to sew a distinguishing mark upon our clothes." "And as you grew up?" I suggested.