in accordance with an order sent by the captain, was at this moment
rattling across the stones towards the steamer.

"This," said Mademoiselle Brun, "is Colonel Gilbert, whose letter you
answered a few weeks ago."

"Ah, yes," said Denise, returning his bow, and looking at him with frank
eyes. "Thank you very much, monsieur, but we are going to live at Perucca
ourselves."

"By all means," laughed the colonel, "try it, mademoiselle; try it. It is
an impossibility, I tell you frankly. And Corsica is not a country in
which to attempt impossibilities. See here! I perceive you have your
carriage ready, and the sailors are now carrying your baggage ashore. You
are going to drive to Perucca. Good! Now, as you pass along the road, you
will perceive on either side quite a number of small crosses, simply
planted at the roadside--some of iron, some of wood, some with a name,
some with initials. They are to be found all over Corsica, at the side of
every road. Those are people, mademoiselle, who have attempted
impossibilities in this country and have failed--at the very spot where
the cross is planted. You understand? I speak as a soldier to a soldier's
daughter."

He looked at her, and nodded slowly and gravely with compressed lips.

"Rest assured that we shall not attempt impossibilities," replied Denise,
gaily. "We only ask to be left alone to feed our poultry and attend to
our garden. I am told that the house and servants are as my father's
cousin left them, and we are expected to-day."