lazed beside the
table a torch in representation of the Star which guided Melchior and
his fellow kings to Bethlehem.

A reminiscence of this general charity still survives in the little town
of Sollies, tucked away in the mountains not far from Toulon. There, at
Christmas time, thirteen poor people known as "the Apostles" (though
there is one to spare) receive at the town-house a dole of two pounds of
meat, two loaves of bread, some figs and almonds, and a few sous. And
throughout Provence the custom still is general that each well-to-do
family shall send a portion of its Christmas loaf--the _pan
calendau_--to some friend or neighbour to whom Fortune has been less
kind. But, happily, this gift nowadays often is a mere friendly
compliment, like the gift of _fougasso_; for the times are past when
weak-kneed and spasmodic charity dealt with real poverty in Provence.

X

'Twas with such kindly reminiscences of old-time benevolence, rather
than with explosive archaeological matters, that I kept the Vidame from
falling again a-fuming--while we waited through the dusk for the coming
of seven o'clock, at which hour the festivities at the Mazet were to
begin. Our waiting place was the candle-lit salon: a stately old
apartment floored formally with squares of black and white marble,
furnished in the formal style of the eighteenth century, and hung around
with formal family portraits and curious old prints in which rather lax
classical subjects were treated with a formal severity. The library
being our usual habitat, I inferred that our change of quarters was in
honour of the day. It was much to my liking; for in that antiquely
ordered room--and the presence of the Vidame helped the illusion--I felt
always as though I had stepped backward into the thick of eighteenth
century romance. But for the Vidame, although he also loves its old time
flavour, the salon had no charms just then; and when the glass-covered
clock on the mantle chimed from among its gilded cupids the
three-quarters he arose with a brisk alacrity and said that it was time
for us to be off.

Our march--out through the rear door of the Chateau and across the
court-yard to the Mazet--was processional. All the household went with
us. The Vidame gallantly gave his arm to Mise Fougueiroun; I followed
with her first officer--a sauce-box named Mouneto, so plumply provoking
and charming in her Arlesian dress that I will not say what did or did
not happen in the dark