d his comrade tranquilly; "they are deserters.
Formerly they used to have their noses cut off, as well as their
ears; but this was found to breed infection, and now they are merely
slit--besides, of course, being branded with the fleur-de-lis on
either cheek. But what matters their appearance to them, seeing that
their sentence is for life?"

Tristram shuddered. "This King of yours," said he, "must be the
first-cousin to the devil."

"They are all alike, _mon cher_. What, for instance, has your King
done for you? But speak not so loud." He took a few steps in
silence, and added: "After all, one must distinguish between crimes.
If the poor _faussoniers_ are treated to the galleys it is absurd to
suppose that nothing worse must befall a deserter."

"What is a _faussonier?_"

"There is one yonder, comrade--that young peasant who walks like a
calf and seems to know not whither he is bound. He is condemned
because he bought some salt for his young wife, who was ill."

"Is that a crime?"

"It depends where you buy it. You must know, my friend, that in most
of the provinces of France salt is very dear. A pint will cost you
four francs and a little over. Therefore the poor cannot afford it
for their soup, and some, for lack of it, go fasting most of the
week. So they starve and languish and fall sick, as did this young
man's wife. But in my native Burgundy--blessed be its name!--and
also in the country of Doubs, salt is cheap enough. Now this young
man dwelt close on the frontier of Burgundy--I have seen him times
and again at the vintage work--and because he was very fond of his
wife, and could not bear to see her die, he ventured across the
frontier to buy salt cheaply; and, being taken, he has been condemned
to the galleys for six years. In the meantime his wife will perish.
But the King's taxes must be paid. Else how shall we exterminate his
enemies?"

"But," Tristram exclaimed, trembling with indignation, "how can you
be cheerful in this fearful land?"

"What! I? Well, I am cheerful, to begin with, because my nose is
not slit."

"That appears to me a very slight reason."

"You would not say so if you had run so near it as I."

"Are you a deserter, then?"

"Thanks for your good opinion, comrade! No. I was never guilty of
disloyalty to King Lewis, But I killed my wife's mother, _pardieu!_--
which the judge seemed to think almost as vile, till I sent a friend
to grease his palm with the last