had only a few
stragglers, we did not think it worth our while to stop, so continued on
our way. When we stayed several days in a town, Vitalis would let me go
about alone if Capi was with me. He trusted me with Capi.

"You are traveling through France at the age when most boys are at
school," he once said to me; "open your eyes, look and learn. When you
see something that you do not understand, do not be afraid to ask me
questions. I have not always been what you see me now. I have learnt
many other things."

"What?"

"We will speak of that later. For the present listen to my advice, and
when you grow up I hope you will think with a little gratitude of the
poor musician of whom you were so afraid when he took you from your
adopted mother. The change may not be bad for you after all."

I wondered what my master had been in the days gone by.

We tramped on until we came to the plains of Quercy, which were very
flat and desolate. There was not a brook, pond, or river to be seen. In
the middle of the plain we came to a small village called Bastide-Murat.
We spent the night in a barn belonging to the inn.

"It was here in this village," said Vitalis, "and probably in this inn,
that a man was born who led thousands of soldiers to battle and who,
having commenced his life as a stable boy, afterwards became a king. His
name was Murat. They called him a hero, and they named this village
after him. I knew him and often talked with him."

"When he was a stable boy?"

"No," replied Vitalis, laughing, "when he was a king. This is the first
time I have been in this part of the country. I knew him in Naples,
where he was king."

"You have known a king!"

The tone in which I said this must have been rather comical, for my
master laughed heartily.

We were seated on a bench before the stable door, our backs against the
wall, which, was still hot from the sun's rays. The locusts were
chanting their monotonous song in a great sycamore which covered us with
its branches. Over the tops of the houses the full moon, which had just
appeared, rose gently in the heavens. The night seemed all the more
beautiful because the day had been scorchingly hot.

"Do you want to go to bed?" asked Vitalis, "or would you like me to tell
you the story of King Murat?"

"Oh, tell me the story!"

Then he told me the story of Joachim Murat; for hours we sat on the
bench. As he talked, the pale light from the moon fell across him, and I
listen