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 will renounce my birthright; if I spare you I will take the title of wolf-driver."

Patience smiled; then, suddenly becoming serious, he fixed on me that searching look which rendered his physiognomy so striking. Then turning to the weasel-hunter:

"It is strange," he said; "there must be something in blood. Take the vilest noble, and you will find that in certain things he has more spirit than the bravest of us. Ah! it is simple enough," he added, speaking to himself; "they are brought up like that, whilst we we, they tell us, are born to obey. Patience!"

He was silent for an instant; then, rousing himself from his reverie, he said to me in a kindly though somewhat mocking tone:

"And so you want to hang me, Monseigneur Straw-Stalk? You will have to eat a lot of beef, then, for you are not yet tall enough to reach the branch which is to bear me; and before then perhaps many things will happen that are not dreamt of in your little philosophy."

"Nonsense! Why talk nonsense?" said the mole-catcher, with a serious air; " come, make peace. Monseigneur Bernard, I ask pardon for Patience; he is an old man, a fool."

"No, no," said Patience; " I want him to hang me; he is right; this is merely my due; and, in fact, it may come more quickly than all the rest. You must not make too much haste to grow, monsieur; for I well, I am making more haste to grow old than I would wish; and you who are so brave, you would not attack a man no longer able to defend himself."

"You didn't hesitate to use your strength against