he bedclothes over his head.

It is certainly not very agreeable to hear such stories told by the
actors in them; and Jack was very glad that he was in the Moronval
Academy rather than in that terrible land of Dahomey.

Madou seeing the effect he had produced, dwelt no longer on the
ceremonies preceding his departure, but proceeded to describe his
arrival and life at Marseilles.

He told of the college there, of the high walls and the benches in the
court-yard, where the pupils cut their names; of the solemn professor,
who sternly said, if a whisper was heard, "Not so much noise, if
you please!" The close air of the recitation-rooms, the monotonous
scratching of pens, the lessons repeated over and over again, were all
new and very trying to Madou. His one idea was to get into the sun; but
the walls were so high, the court-yard so narrow, that he could never
find enough to bask in. Nothing amused or interested him. He was never
allowed to go out as were the other pupils, and for a very good reason.
At first he had induced M. Bonfils to take him to the wharves, where
he often saw merchandise from his own country, and sometimes went into
ecstasies at some well-known mark.

The steamers puffing and blowing, and the great ships setting their
sails, all spoke to him of departure and deliverance.

Madou dreamed of these ships all through school-hours,--one had brought
him to that cold gray land, another would take him away. And possessed
by this fixed idea, he paid no attention to his A B C's, for his eyes
saw nothing save the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky above. The
result of this was, that one fine day he escaped from the college and
hid himself on one of the vessels of M. Bonfils; he was found in time,
but escaped again, and the second time was not discovered until the ship
was in the middle of the Gulf of Lyons. Any other child would have been
kept on board; but when Madou's name was known, the captain took his
royal Highness back to Marseilles, relying on a reward.

After that, the boy became more and more unhappy, for he was kept a very
close prisoner. Notwithstanding all this, he escaped once more; and this
time, on being discovered, made no resistance, but obeyed so gently, and
with such a sad smile, that no one had the heart to punish him. At
last the principal of the institution declined the responsibility of so
determined a pupil. Should he send the little prince back to Dahomey? M.
Bonfils dared not