such the fighting nations have made good soldiers in the past, and even
Rome could not make them slaves.

"Or you could do it," went on Perucca, with a shrewd nod, looking at him
beneath shaggy brows. "The velvet glove--eh? That would surprise them,
for they have never felt the touch of one. You, with your laugh and idle
ways, and behind them the perception--the perception of the devil--or a
woman."

The colonel had drawn forward a basket chair, and was leaning back in it
with crossed legs, and one foot swinging.

"I? Heaven forbid! No, my friend; I require too little. It is only the
discontented who get on in the world. But, mind you, I would not mind
trying on a small scale. I have often thought I should like to buy a
little property on this side of the island, and cultivate it as they do
up in Cap Corse. It would be an amusement for my exile, and one could
perhaps make the butter for one's bread--green Chartreuse instead of
yellow--eh?"

He paused, and seeing that the other made no reply, continued in the same
careless strain.

"If you or one of the other proprietors on this side of the mountains
would sell--perhaps."

But Perucca shook his head resolutely.

"No; we should not do that. You, who have had to do with the railway,
must know that. We will let our land go to rack and ruin, we will starve