Nothing at all. In half an hour or less, the refractory one frees herself, issues from the shelter and flees. The other at once runs up from the back of the cabin, stops on the threshold and looks out. His beauty has escaped him. He has been jilted. Sheepishly, he returns indoors. I follow his example. June sets in. For fear of a disturbance caused by too brilliant an illumination, I have hitherto kept the lantern hung outside, at some distance from the pane. The insufficient light does not allow me to observe certain details as to the manner in which the couple are linked when strolling. Do they both play an active part in the scheme of the clasped hands? Are their fingers interlinked alternately? Or does only one of the pair act; and, if so, which? Let us ascertain exactly; the thing is not without importance. I place the lantern inside, in the centre of the cage. There is a good light everywhere. Far from being scared, the Scorpions gain in gladness. They hasten up around the beacon; some even try to climb it, so as to be nearer the flame. They succeed in doing so by means of the frames containing the glass squares. They hang on to the edges of the tin strips and stubbornly, heedless of slipping, end by reaching the top. There, motionless, lying partly on the glass, partly on the support of the metal casing, they gaze the whole evening long, fascinated by the glory of the wick. They remind me of the Great Peacock Moths that used to hang in ecstasy under the reflector of my lamp. At the foot of the beacon, in the full light, a couple loses no time in doing the straight bend. The two fence prettily with their tails and then go a-strolling. The male alone acts. With the two fingers of each claw, he has seized the two fingers of the corresponding claw of the Scorpioness in a bunch. He alone exerts himself and squeezes; he alone is at liberty to break the team when he likes: he has but to open his pincers. The female cannot do so; she is a prisoner, handcuffed by her seducer. In rather infrequent cases, one can see even finer things. I have caught the Scorpion dragging his sweetheart by the two fore-arms; I have seen him pull her by one leg and by the tail. She had resisted the advances of the outstretched hand; and the bully, forgetful of all reserve, had thrown her on her side and clawed hold of her at random. The thing is quite clear: we have to do with a regular rape, abduction with violence. Even so did Romulus’ youths rape the Sabine women. CHAPTER XVIII THE LANGUEDOCIAN SCORPION: THE FAMILY Book-knowledge is a poor resource in the problems of life; assiduous converse with facts is preferable here to the best-stocked library. In many cases, ignorance is a good thing: the mind retains its freedom of investigation and does not stray along roads that lead nowhither, suggested by one’s reading. I have experienced this once again.