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It seemed to me, in fact, that upon my arrival at this house, I had entered a
new world. I appeared to live in a dream. What circumstances could be connected
with this woman, who had her rifle like a soldier? What, with this young man,
who felt the same pains as his brother, at a distance of three hundred leagues?
How could I explain the mystery of a mother who makes her son promise to tell
her, if he should see her other son dead?

There was, you must acknowledge, in all this, sufficient matter for reverie.

But observing that my continued silence bordered upon impoliteness, I raised
my head, and endeavored to shake off this confusion of ideas.

Both mother and son saw at once, that I intended to take up the subject
again.

“And,” began Lucien, as if he was merely continuing an uninterrupted
conversation, “you concluded to visit Corsica?”

“Yes, so you see; I formed this project a long time ago, and have at last put
it into execution.”

“By my soul, you have done well not to delay it longer, for in a few years,
with the successive innovations of French taste and customs, those who come here
to see Corsica, will find her no more.”

“At all events,” said I, “if the old national spirit retires before the
advances of civilization, and finds a retreat in some remote corner of the
island, it will certainly be in the Province of Sartene, and in the Valley of
the Tararo.”

“You think so?” said the young man, smiling.

“Because it seems to me, that all I see before and around me, is a very fine
and noble picture of the old manners and customs of Corsica.

“Yes, sir, but notwithstanding, between my mother and myself, in presence of
the souvenirs of four centuries, in this same ancient house with its pinnacles
and gratings, the French spirit has entered to influence my brother; has taken
him away from us, and has made him go to Paris, from whence he will return a
lawyer. He will then live at Ajaccio, instead of living in the house of his
forefathers; he will practice law—if he has talent he will perhaps be appointed
royal attorney; he will then sue the poor fellows who have made* a skin, as they
say in this country; he will confound the assassin with the murderer, as you
have done awhile ago; he will, in the name of the law, demand the heads of those
who have done merely what their fathers would have felt themselves disgraced by
not doing. He will substitute the judgments of men for the judgments of God. And
in the evening, after he has given a head to the executioner, he will imagine
that he has saved his country, and think he has brought his stone to the
foundation of the temple of civilization, as our Préfet says. Oh God! Oh God!!”

“But,” said I, “God has balanced all things well, for if your brother has
become a follower of the new principles, you have at the same time adhered more
firmly to the old customs.”

“Yes; but who assures me that my son may not follow the example of his uncle,
instead of following mine? and I, myself, don’t I sanction things unworthy of
one of the de Franchis?”

“You?” exclaimed I, astonished.

“Ah, heaven! yes, I, myself. Will you permit me to tell you what was your
object in visiting the province of Sartene?”

“Speak!”

“You came here with the curiosity of a man of the world, of an artist, or of
a poet; I know not, nor do I ask what you are. You may tell us, before we part,
if it be agreeable, or you may remain silent on the subject—just as you please.
Well, now, you come here in hope of seeing some village in vendetta, to be
brought into contact with some real original bandit, like those whom Monsieur
Mérimée has pourtrayed in his Colomba.