He had never seen me; he did not know what it was that was sitting on him; and I sent my voice out with a roar--'I am a demon, and the fiend hath bidden me take him thy soul to-night!' Ah! how he began to tremble, and to kick, and to quiver.

He thought it was the devil a-top of him; and he began to moan, as well as the sand would let him, that he was a poor man, and an innocent, and the geese were the only things he ever stole in all his life.

Then I went through a little pantomime with him, and I was very terrible in my threats, and he was choking and choking with the sand, though he never let go of the geese.
At last I relented a little, and told him I would spare him that once, if he gave up the stolen goods, and never lifted his head for an hour.

Sapristi! How glad he was of the terms! I dare say my weight was unpleasant; so the geese made us a divine stew that night, and the last thing I saw of my man was his lying flat as I left him, with his face still down in the sand-hole." Cigarette nodded and laughed.
"Pretty fair, Tata; but I have heard better.

Bah! a grand thing certainly, to fright a peasant, and scamper off with a goose!" "Sacre bleu!" grumbled Tata, who was himself of opinion that his exploit had been worthy of the feats of Harlequin; "thy heart is all gone to the Englishman." Cigarette laughed saucily and heartily, tickled at the joke.