Part 3 (1/2)

At that remark all the boy's pride was on fire.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'I never lie uncle, you know I never lie!' said Napoleon”]

”I never lie, uncle; you know I never lie!” he cried hotly.

But Uncle Lucien was so certain of the boy's guilt that he mistook his pride for impudence. And yet he was such a good-natured old fellow, and loved his nieces and nephews so dearly, that he tried to soften and belittle the theft of his precious fruit.

”No harm is done,” he said, ”if you but tell me what you have done. The fruit can be replaced, and I will say nothing, though you know you are forbidden to meddle with my fruit. But I do not love to see you doing wrong. I will not tolerate a lie. I do not know just what you have done; but if you will tell me the truth, I will--of course I will--pardon you.

Why did you take my fruit?”

”I took nothing, uncle,” the boy declared. ”It was”--then he stopped.

Suppose it had been taken by one of his sisters, or by Panoria, their guest? The flutter of the departing skirt, as he came into the room, a.s.sured him it was one of these. But which one? And why should he accuse the little girls? It was not manly, and he wished to be a man.

More than this, he was angry to think that he had been suspected, more angry yet to think he had been accused by good Uncle Lucien, and furiously angry to think that his word was doubted; so he said nothing further.

”Ah, so! It was--you, then,” the canon said, shaking his head in sorrowful belief.

”No; I did not say so!” exclaimed Napoleon. ”It was not I.”

”Take care, take care, my son,” the canon said, very nearly losing his temper over what he considered Napoleon's insincerity. ”You cannot deceive me. See! look at yourself in the gla.s.s. Your face betrays you.

It is red with shame.”

”Then is my color a liar, uncle; but I am not,” Napoleon insisted.

”What were you doing here, all alone?” asked his uncle.

”I was thirsty,” replied the nephew. ”I did but come for a drink of water.”

”That perhaps is so,” said Uncle Lucien. ”There is no harm in that. You came for a drink of water; but, how was it after that,--eh, my friend?”

”That is all, uncle,” replied Napoleon.

”And the water? Have you taken a drink of it, yet?”

”No, uncle; not yet.”

The canon again shook his head doubtingly.

”See, then,” he declared, ”you came for a drink of water. You took no drink; the sideboard stands open; my fruit has disappeared. Napoleon, this is not right. You have done a wrong. Come, tell me the truth. If it is not as you say, if you have lied to me, much as I love you, I will have you punished. It is wicked in you, and I will not be merciful.”

As the canon said this with raised voice and warning finger, Napoleon's father, ”Papa Charles,” entered the room. With him came Napoleon's brother Joseph, two years older than he, and his twelve-year-old uncle-Joey Fesch. Joey was Mamma Let.i.tia's half-brother, a Swiss-Corsican boy. He was, as I have told you, Napoleon's firm supporter.

They looked in surprise at Uncle Lucien and Napoleon, and would have inquired as to the meaning of the att.i.tude of the two. But the fact was, Napoleon had so many such moments of rebellion, that they gave it no immediate thought; and just then Charles Bonaparte had a serious political question which he wished to refer to the Canon Lucien.

The two men at once began talking; the two boys saw through the open window something that engaged their attention, and Napoleon was unnoticed. But still the little boy stood, too proud to move away, too angry to speak, and so filled with a sense of the injustice that was done him, that he remained with downcast eyes, almost rooted to the spot, while still the sideboard stood open, and the tell-tale basket stood despoiled within it. The door opened again, and Saveria entered hastily. She went to the sideboard, took out the basket of fruit, and then you may be sure there was an exclamation that attracted the attention of all in the room.

”For mercy's sake!” she cried. ”Who has taken the canon's fruit?”