center of the island, the ground is seen to rise quite rapidly, and
after three hours’ walk by tortuous paths, blocked by large masses of
rocks, and sometimes cut by ravines, the traveler finds himself on
the edge of a very extensive _maquis_. This bush is the home of the
Corsican shepherds, and of whomsoever has come into conflict with the
law. It is well known that the Corsican laborer, to spare himself the
trouble of fertilizing his lands, sets fire to a certain stretch of
forest; so much the worse if the flames spread further than is needed;
whatever happens, he is sure to have a good harvest by sowing upon
this ground, enriched by the ashes of the very trees which it grows.
When the corn is plucked, he leaves the straw, because it is too much
trouble to gather it. The roots, which have remained in the ground
without being harmed, sprout in the following spring into very thick
shoots, which in a few years attain a height of seven or eight feet.
This sort of underwood it is that they call _maquis_. It is composed
of different kinds of trees and shrubs, all mixed and tangled, just as
they were planted by God. Only with the hatchet in hand can a man open
a passage, and there are _maquis_ so dense and so tufted that even the
wild sheep can not penetrate them.
[Sidenote: One of Mérimée’s deft personal touches, as though he were
telling the story to Corsicans.]
[Sidenote: Why “brown”?]
[Sidenote: The vendetta. See Mérimée’s novelette _Colomba_.]
2. If you have killed a man, go into the _maquis_ of Porto-Vecchio, and
with a good gun and powder and ball, you will live there in safety. Do
not forget a brown cloak with a hood, which serves as a coverlet and a
mattress. The shepherds will give you milk, cheese, and chestnuts, and
you will have nothing to fear from justice, nor from the relatives of
the dead man, unless it be when you have to go down into the town to
renew your munitions.
[Sidenote: Sense of reality. Setting becomes specific. Begins with
social characterization.]
[Sidenote: Note force of “nobly.”]
[Sidenote: Proceeds to physical characterization.]
[Sidenote: Hint of climax.]
[Sidenote: Illustrative anecdotes.]
3. The house of Mateo Falcone, when I was in Corsica in 18--, was half
a league from this _maquis_. He was a comparatively rich man for that
country, living nobly, that is to say, without doing anything, on
the products of his herds, which the shepherds, a species of nomads,
led to pasture here and there on the mountains. When I saw him, two
years after the event which I am about to relate, he seemed to me
about fifty years of age at the most. Picture a small, but robust man,
with curly hair black as jet, and aquiline nose, lips thin, large and
animated eyes, and a deeply tanned complexion. His skill in shooting
was considered extraordinary, even in his country, where there were so
many good shots. For example, Mateo would never fire on a sheep with
buckshot, but at a hundred and twenty paces he would bring it down with
a bullet in its head, or in the shoulder, as he chose. At night he
could use his gun as easily as by day, and they told me the following
example of his skill, which will perhaps seem incredible to those who
have not traveled in Corsica. At eighty paces, a lighted candle was
placed behind a transparent piece of paper as large as a plate. He took
aim, then the candle was extinguished, and after a moment in the most
complete darkness, he shot and pierced the transparency three times out
of four.
[Sidenote: Advances to moral characterization.]
[Sidenote: Further anecdote.]
4. With a talent so surpassing, Mateo Falcone had gained a great
reputation. He was said to be as loyal a friend as he was dangerous
an enemy. Otherwise obliging and charitable, he lived at peace with
everyone in the district of Porto-Vecchio. But they tell of him that
when at Corte, where he had gotten a wife, he had very vigorously freed
himself of a rival who was reputed to be as redoubtable in war as in
love; at all events, people attributed to Mateo a certain gunshot which
surprised this rival as he was shaving before a small mirror hung in
his window.
[Sidenote: Primitive ideals.]
[Sidenote: Central character introduced unobtrusively.]
[Sidenote: Vendetta and clan spirit.]
[Sidenote: Introduction ends.]
5. The affair having been hushed up, Mateo married. His wife Giuseppa
had first presented him with three daughters (which enraged him), but
finally a son came, whom he named Fortunato: he was the hope of the
family, the inheritor of the name. The girls were well married; their
father could reckon, in case of need, upon the poniards and rifles of
his sons-in-law. The son was only ten years old, but he was already
showing signs of a promising disposition.
[Sidenote: ACTION BEGINS. Foundation for crisis.]
[Sidenote: FIRST PLOT INCIDENT. (A plot incident is essential to a
plot; to change it would be to alter the plot materially.)]
[Sidenote: An old-style literary device.]
6. On a certain day in autumn, Mateo and his wife set out early to
visit one of their flocks in a clearing of _maquis_. Little Fortunato
wished to accompany them, but the clearing was too far away; besides,
someone must stay to guard the house; so the father refused: we shall
soon see if he had no occasion to repent.
[Sidenote: Setting in contrast with crisis about to appear.]
[Sidenote: All the footnotes are by Mérimée.]
[Sidenote: Action now supersedes setting.]
[Sidenote: Note force of “irregular.”]
[Sidenote: Dramatic introduction of a leading character, and
preparation for first crisis.]
[Sidenote: SECOND PLOT INCIDENT.]
7. He had been gone for some hours, and little Fortunato was tranquilly
stretched out in the sunshine, looking at the blue mountains, and
thinking that on the next Sunday he would be going to town to dine
with his uncle the corporal,[13] when he was suddenly interrupted in
his meditations by the firing of a gun. He got up and turned toward
that side of the plain from which the sound had come. Other gunshots
followed, fired at irregular intervals, and each time they came nearer
and nearer. At last on the path which led from the plain to Mateo’s
house, appeared a man wearing a cap pointed like those worn by the
mountaineers. He was bearded and covered with rags, and dragged himself
along with difficulty by leaning on his gun. He had just received a
gunshot wound in the thigh.
8. This man was a bandit,[14] who having set out at night to get some
powder from the town, had fallen on the way into an ambush of Corsican
soldiers.[15] After a vigorous defense he had succeeded in making his
retreat, hotly pursued and skirmishing from rock to rock. But he had
gained only a little on the soldiers, and his wound made it hopeless
for him to reach the _maquis_ before being overtaken.
9. He approached Fortunato and said to him:
[Sidenote: Crisp dialogue gives feeling of intensity.]
10. “You are the son of Mateo Falcone?”
11. “Yes.”
12. “I am Gianetto Sanpiero. I am pursued by the yellow collars.[16]
Hide me, for I can go no further.”
13. “And what will my father say if I hide you without his permission?”
14. “He will say that you have done right.”
15. “How do you know?”
16. “Hide me quickly; they are coming.”
17. “Wait till my father comes.”
18. “How can I wait! A curse upon it! They will be here in five
minutes. Come, hide me, or I will kill you.”
[Sidenote: Note the lad’s constant coolness, and sly calculation.]
19. Fortunato answered him with the utmost coolness:
20. “Your gun is empty, and there are no more cartridges in your
_carchera_.”[17]
21. “I have my stiletto.”
22. “But could you run as fast as I can?”
23. He gave a leap, and put himself out of reach.
24. “You are no son of Mateo Falcone! Will you then allow me to be
taken in front of your home?”
[Sidenote: The right of asylum to kin is sacred to primitive peoples.]
[Sidenote: Note force of “seemed.”]
25. The child seemed to be touched.
26. “What will you give me if I hide you?” he asked him, drawing nearer.
[Sidenote: Crisis particularized.]
[Sidenote: PLOT INCIDENT PARTICULARIZED.]
[Sidenote: Shows value of the reward.]
27. The fugitive felt in the leather pouch that hung at his belt, and
took out a five-franc piece, which he had reserved, no doubt, for
powder. Fortunato smiled at sight of the piece of money, and seizing
hold of it, he said to Gianetto:
[Sidenote: Revelation of character.]
28. “Fear nothing!”
[Sidenote: RESOLUTION OF FIRST CRISIS.]
[Sidenote: Author’s real estimate of the boy.]
29. He quickly made a large hole in a haystack which stood near by the
house, Gianetto crouched down in it, and the child covered him up in
such a way as to leave a little space for breathing, without making
it possible for any one to suspect that the hay concealed a man. He
acted, still further, with the cunning of a tricky savage. He went and
brought a cat and her kittens, and set them on top of the haystack to
make believe that it had not been recently touched. Then noticing the
blood-stains on the path near the house, he carefully covered them with
dust. This done, he lay down again in the sun with the utmost calmness.
[Sidenote: THIRD PLOT INCIDENT. See ¶12.]
[Sidenote: A deputy in command.]
[Sidenote: Note complication by this relationship.]
30. Some minutes later six men in brown uniforms with yellow collars,
commanded by an adjutant, stood before Mateo’s door. This adjutant was
a distant relative of Falcone--for in Corsica more remote degrees of
relationship are recognized than elsewhere. His name was Tidora Gamba;
he was an energetic man, greatly feared by the banditti, many of whom
he had already hunted down.
[Sidenote: Crisis recurs.]
31. “Good day, little cousin,” he said, coming up to Fortunato. “How
you have grown! Have you seen a man passing just now?”
[Sidenote: Cunning in character further revealed.]
32. “Oh, I am not so tall as you, Cousin,” the child replied with a
foolish look.
33. “That time’s coming. But have you not seen a man pass by?--Tell me.”
34. “If I have seen a man pass by?”
35. “Yes, a man with a pointed cap and a waistcoat embroidered in red
and yellow?”
36. “A man with a pointed cap and a waistcoat embroidered in red and
yellow?”
37. “Yes; answer quickly, and don’t repeat my questions.”
38. “This morning Monsieur le Curé passed our door on his horse Piero.
He asked me how papa was, and I told him--”
[Sidenote: Suspense.]
39. “Ah, you little rascal, you are making game of me! Tell me at once
which way Gianetto went, for it is he that we are after, and I am
certain he took this path.”
40. “How do you know that?”
41. “How do I know that? I know you have seen him.”
[Sidenote: Child’s crafty nature increasingly disclosed.]
42. “Does one see passers-by when one is asleep?”
43. “You were not asleep, you little demon; the gunshots would have
waked you.”
44. “You think, then, Cousin, that your guns make a great noise? My
father’s rifle makes much more.”
45. “May the devil confound you, you young scamp! I am sure enough
that you have seen Gianetto. Perhaps you have even hidden him. Here,
comrades, go into this house, and see if our man is not there. He could
walk only on one foot, and he has too much good sense, the rascal, to
have tried to reach the _maquis_ limping. Besides, the marks of blood
stop here.”
[Sidenote: Sly appeal to the fear inspired by Mateo’s reputation.]
46. “Whatever will papa say!” asked Fortunato, with a chuckle; “what
will he say when he finds out that his house has been entered while he
was away!”
[Sidenote: Note use of suspense throughout. The story is one long
crisis.]
47. “Good-for-nothing!” cried the adjutant Gamba, taking him by the
ear, “do you know that I am able to make you change your tune? Perhaps
when I have given you a score or more thwacks with the flat of a sword,
you will speak at last!”
48. But Fortunato still laughed derisively.
49. “My father is Mateo Falcone!” he said with energy.
50. “Do you know, you little rogue, that I can carry you off to Corte,
or to Bastia? I’ll make you sleep in a dungeon, on a pallet of straw,
your feet in irons, and I’ll have you guillotined, if you don’t tell
me where Gianetto Sanpiero is.”
51. The child burst out laughing at this foolish threat. He only
repeated:
52. “My father is Mateo Falcone!”
[Sidenote: Compare with ¶4 and ¶49.]
53. “Adjutant,” whispered one of the _voltigeurs_, “we’d better not
embroil ourselves with Mateo.”
[Sidenote: Setting is thus interwoven with the story, though slightly.]
[Sidenote: Character revelation.]
54. Gamba seemed evidently embarrassed. He talked in a low voice with
his soldiers, who had already been through the house. It was not a
lengthy operation, for the cabin of a Corsican consists of only a
single square room. The furniture comprises a table, some benches,
a few boxes, and utensils for hunting and housekeeping. Meanwhile,
little Fortunato caressed his cat, and seemed maliciously to enjoy the
embarrassment of the _voltigeurs_ and his cousin.
[Sidenote: Suspense augmented.]
55. One soldier came up to the haystack. He looked at the cat and
carelessly gave a dig at the hay with his bayonet, shrugging his
shoulders as if he thought the precaution were ridiculous. Nothing
stirred, and the face of the child did not betray the least emotion.
[Sidenote: More crafty coolness.]
[Sidenote: The turn in the plot.]
[Sidenote: FOUNDATION FOR MAIN CRISIS.]
56. The adjutant and his troop were in despair; they were looking
seriously toward the edge of the plain, as though disposed to return
the way they had come; when their chief--convinced that threats would
produce no effect upon the son of Falcone--thought he would make one
last effort by trying the power of cajoleries and presents.
57. “Little Cousin,” he said, “you seem to be a wide-awake young fellow
enough. You will get on! But you play a mean trick with me; and, if I
did not fear to give pain to my cousin Mateo, devil take me, I’d carry
you off with me!”
58. “Bah!”
59. “But, when my cousin returns I shall relate to him the whole
affair, and for your having gone to the trouble to tell me a lie, he
will give you the whip till he draws blood.”
60. “Do you know that?”
61. “You’ll find out! But, see here--be a good lad, and I’ll give you
something.”
62. “I, my Cousin, will give you some advice--it is, that if you delay
any more Gianetto will reach the _maquis_, then it will take a cleverer
fellow to go and hunt for him.”
[Sidenote: Main crisis augmented.]
[Sidenote: PLOT INCIDENT PARTICULARIZED.]
63. The adjutant drew from his pocket a silver watch worth quite ten
crowns; and seeing how the little Fortunato’s eyes sparkled when he
looked at it, he said, as he held the watch suspended at the end of its
steel chain:
[Sidenote: Character appeal.]
64. “You rogue! you would like very well to have such a watch as
this hung round your neck, and to go and promenade the streets of
Porto-Vecchio, proud as a peacock; people would ask you, ‘What time is
it?’ and you would reply, ‘Look at my watch!’”
65. “When I am grown up, my uncle the corporal will give me a watch.”
66. “Yes; but your uncle’s son has one already--not such a fine one as
this, it is true--of course, he is younger than you.”
67. The child sighed.
68. “Well, would you like this watch, little Cousin?”
[Sidenote: Suspense.]
[Sidenote: Illustration.]
69. Fortunato, ogling the watch out of the corner of his eyes, looked
just as a cat does when they suddenly offer it a chicken. Because it is
afraid a joke is being played on it, it dares not pounce upon its prey,
and from time to time it turns away its eyes so as not to succumb to
the temptation; but it constantly licks its chops, as if to say to its
master, “But your joke is a cruel one!”
70. However, the adjutant Gamba seemed to be offering the watch in good
faith. Fortunato did not hold out his hand, but he said to him with a
bitter smile:
71. “Why do you jest with me?”
72. “By Heaven, I am not joking! Only tell me where Gianetto is and
this watch is yours.”
[Sidenote: Compare with ¶67.]
73. Fortunato allowed an incredulous sigh to escape him; and, fixing
his black eyes on those of the adjutant, he sought to find in them the
faith he wished to have in his words.
[Sidenote: A typical Latin protest.]
74. “May I lose my epaulets,” cried the adjutant, “if I do not give you
the watch on these terms! My comrades are witnesses, and I cannot go
back on my word!”
[Sidenote: A key to the plot.]
[Sidenote: MAIN CRISIS.]
75. So speaking, he held the watch nearer and nearer until it almost
touched the pale cheeks of the child, whose face showed plainly the
combat going on in his heart between covetousness and his respect
for the laws of hospitality. His bare breast heaved violently, and
he seemed to be almost stifling. All the time the watch dangled and
turned, and sometimes grazed the tip of his nose. At length, little by
little, his right hand lifted toward the watch, the ends of his fingers
touched it, and it rested wholly on his palm, except that the adjutant
still loosely held the end of the chain. The face was blue, the case
was newly polished--in the sunshine it seemed to be all afire. The
temptation was too strong.
[Sidenote: CRISIS RESOLVED AND DOWNWARD ACTION BEGINS. HENCEFORWARD WE
SEE THE RESULTS OF CRISIS, LEADING TO THE CLIMAX.]
[Sidenote: Still sly.]
76. So Fortunato raised his left hand and with his thumb pointed
over his shoulder to the haystack against which he was standing. The
adjutant understood him immediately. He let go the end of the chain;
Fortunato felt himself sole possessor of the watch. He jumped up with
the agility of a deer, and moved ten paces away from the stack, which
the _voltigeurs_ at once began to overturn.
77. It was not long before they saw the hay move, and a bleeding man,
poniard in hand, came forth. But when he tried to rise to his feet,
his stiffening wound would not permit him to stand. He fell down.
The adjutant threw himself upon him and snatched away his stiletto.
Speedily, he was securely bound, in spite of his resistance.
78. Gianetto, laid on the ground and tied like a bundle of fagots,
turned his head toward Fortunato, who had drawn nearer.
79. “Son of--,” he said to him with more contempt than anger.
[Sidenote: FIRST CONTRIBUTORY INCIDENT. (A contributory incident might
be changed or even omitted without vitally changing the plot.)]
[Sidenote: Tardy attempt to appear sincere.]
[Sidenote: His contempt is all for Fortunato.]
80. The boy threw to him the silver-piece that he had received from
him, feeling conscious that he no longer merited it; but the outlaw
seemed not to notice this action. He said to the adjutant in a
perfectly cool voice:
[Sidenote: SECOND CONTRIBUTORY INCIDENT.]
81. “My dear Gamba, I am not able to walk; you will be obliged to carry
me to the town.”
82. “You could run as fast as a kid just now,” retorted his cruel
captor. “But be easy, I am so glad to have caught you that I could
carry you for a league on my own back without being tired. All the
same, my friend, we are going to make a litter for you out of some
branches and your cloak, and at the farm at Crespoli we shall find some
horses.”
[Sidenote: Character revelation.]
[Sidenote: Let-down in tension.]
83. “Good!” said the prisoner. “You had better also put a little straw
on your litter that I may travel more easily.”
[Sidenote: NEW AND RESULTANT CRISIS. FOURTH PLOT INCIDENT.]
[Sidenote: Contrast to tragic spirit of the story.]
[Sidenote: Local color.]
84. While the _voltigeurs_ were occupied, some making a sort of
stretcher out of chestnut boughs, and others dressing Gianetto’s wound,
Mateo Falcone and his wife suddenly appeared in a bend of the path
which led from the _maquis_. The wife advanced, bending laboriously
under an enormous bag of chestnuts, while her husband came up jauntily,
carrying in his hand only a gun, while another was slung over his
shoulder, for it is unworthy of a man to carry any other burden than
his weapons.
[Sidenote: “Bagatelle” discloses the Corsican attitude.]
85. At sight of the soldiers, Mateo’s first thought was that they had
come to arrest him. But why that idea? Had he any quarrel with the law?
No. He bore a good reputation. He was, as they say, particularly well
thought of; but he was a Corsican, a mountaineer, and there are but
few Corsican mountaineers who, if they scrutinize their memories well,
cannot find some pecadillo--some gunshot, some dagger thrust, or some
similar bagatelle. Mateo, more than most, had a clear conscience, for
it was fully ten years since he had pointed his gun against a man; but
all the same he was prudent, and he put himself in position to make a
good defense, if need be.
[Sidenote: To reload his weapons, as appears in ¶87.]
86. “Wife,” said he to Giuseppa, “put down your sack and keep yourself
in readiness.”
[Sidenote: Suspense.]
[Sidenote: Local color.]
87. She obeyed on the instant. He gave her the gun that was slung
over his shoulder, and which would likely cause him inconvenience.
He cocked the one he had in his hand and advanced slowly toward the
house, skirting the trees which bordered the path, and ready at the
least hostile demonstration to throw himself behind the largest
trunk, whence he could fire from cover. His wife walked close behind
him, holding his spare gun and his cartridge box. The duty of a good
housewife, in case of conflict, is to reload her husband’s weapons.
[Sidenote: Development of fourth incident.]
88. On the other side, the adjutant was very uneasy at sight of Mateo
advancing thus upon them with measured steps, his gun forward and his
finger on the trigger.
[Sidenote: Key.]
[Sidenote: A fight would ensue.]
89. “If it should chance,” thought he, “that Gianetto is related to
Mateo, or that he is his friend, and he intends to protect him, the
bullets of his two guns will come to two of us as sure as a letter to
the post, and if he should aim at me, good-bye to our kinship!”
[Sidenote: Note force of “alone.”]
90. In this perplexity, he put on a courageous front and went forward
alone toward Mateo to tell him of the matter, while greeting him like
an old acquaintance; but the brief space that separated him from Mateo
seemed to him terribly long.
[Sidenote: Note constraint.]
91. “Hello! Ah! my old comrade,” he called out. “How are you, old
fellow? It’s I, Gamba, your cousin.”
[Sidenote: Resolution of suspense.]
92. Mateo, without replying a word, stopped, and while the other was
speaking he imperceptibly raised the muzzle of his rifle in such a
manner that it was pointing heavenward by the time the adjutant came up
to him.
93. “Good day, brother,”[18] said the adjutant, holding out his hand.
“It’s a very long time since I’ve seen you.”
94. “Good day, brother.”
[Sidenote: Diminutive for Giuseppa.]
[Sidenote: There is something manlike in most of Mérimée’s female
characters.]
95. “I just came in, while passing, to say ‘good day’ to you and
my cousin Pepa. We have had a long journey to-day; but we must not
complain of fatigue, for we have taken a famous prize. We have just got
hold of Gianetto Sanpiero.”
96. “God be praised!” exclaimed Giuseppa. “He stole one of our milch
goats last week.”
[Sidenote: Character contrast.]
97. These words rejoiced Gamba.
98. “Poor devil!” said Mateo. “He was hungry.”
[Sidenote: New crisis. PREPARATION FOR CLIMAX.]
99. “The fellow defended himself like a lion,” pursued the adjutant,
slightly mortified. “He killed one of the men, and, not content with
that, he broke Corporal Chardon’s arm; but that is not such a great
disaster, for he is nothing but a Frenchman.... Then he hid himself so
cleverly that the devil would not have been able to find him. Without
my little cousin Fortunato, I should never have discovered him.”
100. “Fortunato!” cried Mateo.
101. “Fortunato!” repeated Giuseppa.
102. “Yes, Gianetto was hidden way down in your haystack; but my little
cousin showed me his trick. So I will speak of him to his uncle the
corporal, that he may send him a fine present for his trouble. And his
name and yours will be in the report which I shall send to _Monsieur
l’avocat général_.”
103. “Malediction!” said Mateo under his breath.
[Sidenote: Misunderstanding adds to complication.]
104. They had now rejoined the detachment. Gianetto was already laid
on the litter and they were ready to leave. When he saw Mateo in the
company of Gamba, he smiled a strange smile; then, turning himself
toward the door of the house, he spat on the threshold as he cried out:
[Sidenote: Key to plot. FIFTH PLOT INCIDENT.]
105. “House of a traitor!”