magistrates, their Majesty decreeing that suits brought before them on the question of the fishery shall be referred to the said overseers to be heard and judged by them, in consequence of which the decisions of the said overseers have always been declared without appeal. Made in town hall of La Ciotat, etc.” The reason and good sense of this decision were wonderfully appreciated by the crowd; they applauded the judgment repeatedly, crying: “Long live the overseers! Long live Raimond V.!” The session being ended, the crowd dispersed. Raimond V. remained a few minutes in the hall, and said to the watchman of the cape of l’Aigle, as he grasped him by the hand: “Righteously judged, my old Peyrou.” “Monseigneur, poor people like us are neither lawyers nor scribes, but the Lord inspires the honest with a sense of justice.” “Honest man,” said the baron, looking at him with keen interest, “will you dine with me at Maison-Forte?” “My sentry-box is waiting for me, monseigneur, and Luquin Trinquetaille is getting weary of it.” “Come, come, then, I will see you at Maison-Forte with my brothers; they will arrive soon.” “Have you any news from the commander?” asked Peyrou. “I have some from Malta; it was good, and informs me again of his return here for Christmas, but his letter is sadder than ever.” The watchman looked down and sighed. “Ah, Peyrou,” said the baron, “how grievous is this melancholy, whose cause I do not know!” “Very distressing,” replied the watchman, absorbed in his own thoughts. “You, at least, know the cause of it,” said the baron, with a sort of bitterness, as if he had suffered from his brother’s reticence. “Monseigneur!” said Peyrou. “Cheer up! I do not ask you to unveil this sad secret to me, since it is not your own. Come, good-bye, my honest fellow. After all, I am very glad that our dispute was judged by you.” “Monseigneur,” said Peyrou, who seemed to wish to escape from the recollections awakened by the baron’s questions about the commander, “it was rumoured that you would not come before the tribunal.” “Yes, at first I resolved not to go there. Talebard-Talebardon could have come to an amicable settlement; in the first moment of anger I thought of sending all of you to the devil. “Monseigneur, it was not the consul only who decided to bring the case before us.” “I thought so, and for that reason I reconsidered it; instead of acting like a fool, I have acted with the wisdom of a graybeard. It was that scoundrel from the admiralty of Toulon that I whipped, was it not?” “They say so, monseigneur.” “You were right, Honorât,” said the baron, turning around to M. de Berrol. “Come, we shall see you soon, Peyrou.” Upon going out of the large hall, the baron saw his carriage, which was drawn up in the town hall square, surrounded by the crowd. They saluted him with acclamation and he was deeply moved by this reception.