ith that peculiar and expressive twist which superior people assume to
show they are not taken in. Then, when I was expatiating on the courage
of M. Martin, he smiled, shook his head knowingly, and said, 'Well
known.'

"'How "well known"?' I said. 'If you would only explain me the mystery,
I should be vastly obliged.'

"After a few minutes, during which we made acquaintance, we went to dine
at the first restauranteur's whose shop caught our eye. At dessert a
bottle of champagne completely refreshed and brightened up the memories
of this odd old soldier. He told me his story, and I saw that he was
right when he exclaimed, 'Well known.'"

When she got home, she teased me to that extent, was so charming,
and made so many promises, that I consented to communicate to her the
confidences of the old soldier. Next day she received the following
episode of an epic which one might call "The French in Egypt."

During the expedition in Upper Egypt under General Desaix, a Provencal
soldier fell into the hands of the Maugrabins, and was taken by these
Arabs into the deserts beyond the falls of the Nile.

In order to place a sufficient distance between themselves and the
French army, the Maugrabins made forced marches, and only halted when
night was upon them. They camped round a well overshadowed by palm trees
under which they had previously concealed a store of provisions. Not
surmising that the notion of flight would occur to their prisoner, they
contented themselves with binding his hands, and after eating a few
dates, and giving provender to their horses, went to sleep.

When the brave Provencal saw that his enemies were no longer watching
him, he made use of his teeth to steal a scimiter, fixed the blade
between his knees, and cut the cords which prevented him from using his
hands; in a moment he was free. He at once seized a rifle and a dagger,
then taking the precautions to provide himself with a sack of dried
dates, oats, and powder and shot, and to fasten a scimiter to his waist,
he leaped on to a horse, and spurred on vigorously in the direction
where he thought to find the French army. So impatient was he to see
a bivouac again that he pressed on the already tired courser at such
speed, that its flanks were lacerated with his spurs, and at last the
poor animal died, leaving the Frenchman alone in the desert. After
walking some time in the sand with all the courage of an escaped
convict, the soldier was obliged to