“‘What can I say? I remained scarcely breathing, my body cold as marble. God! When I think of it! We two all but unarmed against those twelve or fifteen with so many weapons! And my comrade dead with sleep and fatigue! To make a noise by calling him, I dared not; to escape by myself, I could not. The window was not far from the ground, but beneath it two big dogs were howling like wolves.’” “Poor gunner!” Emile exclaimed. “And his comrade sleeping like a simpleton!” Claire added. “‘At the end of a quarter of an hour, which seemed long, I heard some one on the stairs, and through the cracks of the door I saw the father, a lamp in one hand and one of his large knives in the other. He was coming up, his wife following him. I placed myself behind the door as he opened it; he put down the lamp, and his wife came and took it; then he entered, barefoot. From outside she said to him in a low tone, shading the lamp with her hand: “Gently, go gently!” When he came to the ladder, he mounted, knife between his teeth, and reaching the height of the bed on which lay this poor young man, his throat uncovered, with one hand he grasped his knife, and with the other—Ah! cousin—’” “Enough, Uncle; this story frightens me!” cried Claire. “Wait—‘And with the other he seized a ham that was hanging from the ceiling, cut off a slice, and went off the way he had come. The door closed, the lamp disappeared, and I was left alone with my reflections.’” “And then?” inquired Jules. “And then, nothing more. ‘As soon as it was daylight,’ continued the gunner, ‘the whole family came and awakened us with much noise, as we had requested them. They brought food and served us a very good breakfast, I assure you. Two capons were part of it, one of which our hostess said we must eat, and take the other with us. On seeing them I understood the significance of those terrible words: _Shall we kill them both?_’” “The man and woman were discussing whether they should kill both capons or only one for breakfast?” asked Emile. “That and nothing else,” replied his uncle. “All the same, the gunner had a bad quarter of an hour for his mistake.” “Those charcoal-burners were not at all such bad people as I thought at first,” said Jules. “That is the point I wished to make. Calabria, like all countries, has its good and its bad people.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER LXVIII THE THERMOMETER