“They contented themselves, then, with advancing their outposts to a bend on the Calvi road not fifty yards from our lodging, which happened to be the last house in the suburbs; and from his window, during the two days we waited for Mr. Fett’s sore to heal, Sir John would watch the guard being relieved, and sometimes pick up his gun and take long aim at the sentry, but lay it down with a sort of sigh:  for though the sight of a Genoese was poison to him, he reckoned outpost-shooting as next door to shooting a fox.

“Our hosts, I should tell you, were an old soldier and his wife.  The man, by his own account, followed the trade of a bird-stuffer; which was just an excuse for laziness, for no soul ever entered his shop but to hear him talk of his campaigning under Gaffori and under the great Pascal Paoli’s father, Hyacinth Paoli.  This he would do at great length, and, for the rest, lived on his wife, who was a well-educated woman and kept a school for small children when they chose to come, which again was seldom.

“This Antonio, as we called him, owned a young ram, which was his pet and the pride of Calenzana:  for, to begin with, it was a wild ram; and in addition to this it was tame; and, to cap all, it wasn’t a bit like a ram.  And yet it was a wild ram—­a wild Corsican ram.

“Being an active sort of man in his way, though well over fifty, and given to wandering on the mountains above Calenzana, he had come one day upon a wild sheep with a lamb running at her heels.  He let fly a shot (for your Corsican, Master Prosper, always carries a gun) and ran forward.  The mother made off, but the lamb sat and squatted like a hare; and so Antonio took him up and carried him home.

“By the time we came to Calenzana the brute had grown to full size, with horns almost two feet long.  As we should reckon, they were twisted the wrong way for a ram’s, and for fleece he had a coat like a Gossmoor pony’s, brown and hairy.  But a ram he was; and, the first night, when Mr. Badcock obliged us with a tune on the flute, he came forward and stared at him for a time and then butted him in the stomach.

“We had to carry the poor man to bed.  We slept, all four of us, in a loft, which could only be reached by a ladder; and a ram, as you know, can’t climb a ladder.  It’s out of nature.  Yet the brute tried its best, having taken such a fancy to Badcock, and wouldn’t be denied till his master beat him out of doors with a fire-shovel and penned him up for the night.

“The next morning, being loosed, he came in to breakfast with the family, and butted a crock of milk all over the kitchen hearth, but otherwise bore himself like a repentant sinner; the only difference being that from breakfast onward he turned away from his master and took to following Mr. Fett, who didn’t like the attention at all.  Badcock kept to his bed; and Mr. Fett too, who could only manage to limp a little, climbed up to the loft soon after midday and lay down for a rest.