THE FALSE ZOUAVE 127

own neck the leaden case containing
the travelling pass.

‘Now then, let us go down,’ he
says, and all three go down into the
forge without uttering a word . . . the
bellows blow; every one is at work.
On seeing once more the great open
shed, which he has thought of so often
far away, the Zouave remembers his
childhood, and how he used to play
between the hot roadway and the
sparks of the forge shining on the
black dust. A fit of tenderness seizes
him, and a great desire to ask his
father’s pardon; but on raising his
eyes he meets always the same inexor-
able look.

At last the blacksmith speaks :

‘Boy,’ says he, ‘here are the anvil
and the tools .. . all is yours .
and allthat too, . . .’ headds, pointing
to the little garden which spreads
below, full of sun and bees, framed in
by the smoky doorway... . ‘The
hives, the vineyard, the house, all are