“Cousin, let me give you some advice:  if you wait much longer Gianetto will be in the maquis and it will take a smarter man than you to follow him.”

The Adjutant took from his pocket a silver watch worth about ten crowns, and noticing that Fortunato’s eyes sparkled at the sight of it, said, holding the watch by the end; of its steel chain: 

“Rascal! you would like to have such a watch as that hung around your neck, wouldn’t you, and to walk in the streets of Porto-Vecchio proud as a peacock?  People would ask you what time it was, and you would say:  ’Look at my watch.’”

“When I am grown up, my uncle, the Caporal, will give me a watch.”

“Yes; but your uncle’s little boy has one already; not so fine as this either.  But then, he is younger than you.”

The child sighed.

“Well!  Would you like this watch, little cousin?”

Fortunato, casting sidelong glances at the watch, resembled a cat that has been given a whole chicken.  It feels that it is being made sport of, and does not dare to use its claws; from time to time it turns its eyes away so as not to be tempted, licking its jaws all the while, and has the appearance of saying to its master, “How cruel your joke is!”

However, the Adjutant seemed in earnest in offering his watch.  Fortunato did not reach out his hand for it, but said with a bitter smile: 

“Why do you make fun of me?”

“Good God!  I am not making fun of you.  Only tell me where Gianetto is and the watch is yours.”

Fortunato smiled incredulously, and fixing his black eyes on those of the Adjutant tried to read there the faith he ought to have had in his words.

“May I lose my epaulettes,” cried the Adjutant, “if I do not give you the watch on this condition.  These comrades are witnesses; I can not deny it.”

While speaking he gradually held the watch nearer till it almost touched the child’s pale face, which plainly showed the struggle that was going on in his soul between covetousness and respect for hospitality.  His breast swelled with emotion; he seemed about to suffocate.  Meanwhile the watch was slowly swaying and turning, sometimes brushing against his cheek.  Finally, his right hand was gradually stretched toward it; the ends of his fingers touched it; then its whole weight was in his hand, the Adjutant still keeping hold of the chain.  The face was light blue; the cases newly burnished.  In the sunlight it seemed to be all on fire.  The temptation was too great.  Fortunato raised his left hand and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at the hay against which he was reclining.  The Adjutant understood him at once.  He dropped the end of the chain and Fortunato felt himself the sole possessor of the watch.  He sprang up with the agility of a deer and stood ten feet from the pile, which the soldiers began at once to overturn.

There was a movement in the hay, and a bloody man with a poignard in his hand appeared.  He tried to rise to his feet, but his stiffened leg would not permit it and he fell.  The Adjutant at once grappled with him and took away his stiletto.  He was immediately secured, notwithstanding his resistance.