an give it to thee it shall be thine."

Quick as a flash the young fellow answered: "Before a cannon-ball cuts
me in two, Commandant, I should like to go to Provence and help once
more to lay the yule-log in my own home. Let me do that!"

Now that was a serious matter. But the Captain had given his word, and
the word of a soldier of the Republic was better than the oath of a
king. Therefore he sat down at his camp-table and wrote:

Army of the Eastern Pyrenees, December 12, 1793.

We, Perrin, Captain of Military Transport, give leave to the citizen
Francois Mistral, a brave Republican soldier, twenty-two years old,
five feet six inches high, chestnut hair and eyebrows, ordinary
nose, mouth the same, round chin, medium forehead, oval face, to go
back into his province, to go all over the Republic, and, if he
wants to, to go to the devil!

"With an order like that in his pocket," said Mistral, "you can fancy
how my grandfather put the leagues behind him; and how joyfully he
reached Maillane on the lovely Christmas Eve, and how there was danger
of rib-cracking from the hugging that went on. But the next day it was
another matter. News of his coming had flown about the town, and the
Mayor sent for him.

"'In the name of the law, citizen,' the Mayor demanded, 'why hast thou
left the army?'

"Now my grandfather was a bit of a wag, and so--with never a word about
his famous pass--he answered: 'Well, you see I took a fancy to come and
spend my Christmas here in Maillane.'

"At that the Mayor was in a towering passion. 'Very good, citizen,' he
cried. 'Other people also may take fancies--and mine is that thou shalt
explain this fancy of thine before the Military Tribunal at Tarascon.
Off with him there!'

"And then away went my grandfather between a brace of gendarmes, who
brought him in no time before the District Judge: a savage old fellow in
a red cap, with a beard up to his eyes, who glared at him as he asked:
'Citizen, how is it that thou hast deserted thy flag?'

"Now my grandfather, who was a sensible man, knew that a joke might be
carried too far; therefore he whipped out his pass and presented it, and
so in a moment set everything right.

"'Good, very good, citizen!' said old Redcap. 'This is as it should be.
Thy Captain says that thou art a brave soldier of the Republic, and that
is the best that the best of us can be. With a pass like that in thy
pocket thou canst snap thy finge