they were talking about the lottery.  Selinunte depends for news upon chance visitors and Angelo had brought the winning numbers which he had got from a cousin of his in one of the lottery offices at Castelvetrano.  The brigadier had lost and in giving his instructions for the next week’s drawing seemed to experience great difficulty in making up his mind.

Presently there looked in at one of the windows a hunchback riding on a mule and carrying a guitar.  Several of the guards

went to help him in, greeting him with shouts of—

“Addio, Filippo!”

He lifted one of his legs over the saddle, and then I saw that not only was he a hunchback but that his legs were withered.  He reached up and hung on to the ledge over the window with both hands and swung himself very cleverly and with no assistance into a sitting position on the window-sill; two of the guards then picked him up, carried him into the room, set him on a chair and gave him some wine and artichokes.  Being a jolly fellow, as cripples often are, he soon tired of the artichokes, asked for his guitar and began to sing Neapolitan songs.  He had not sung more than two before the brigadier told me I should like to wash my hands and had better come into his bedroom.  I glanced at Angelo who nodded back and the brigadier took me off with him.  He began by showing me his room which was very clean and tidy.  His bed was at one end, his table, with his official papers and books, in the middle and against the wall hung his guns which he showed me particularly, declaring that he was passionately devoted

to the chase.  After he had done the honours I washed my hands and so did he; then he led the conversation to what his manner betrayed was the real business of the interview.  He asked me my name and age, whether I was married or single and particulars of my family, whether I was an Englishman from London or from New York and how much a metre I had paid for the stuff my clothes were made of.  This last was the only question that gave me any real trouble, but I made a hasty calculation, converted the result into francs, deducted five per cent. for cash and hazarded—

“Fourteen lire.”

In return for his polite interest in my affairs I pretended a similar interest in his, and it turned out that we had a friend in common—a maresciallo dei carabinieri whom I had met on Monte San Giuliano and of whom I was able to give the latest information namely, that he had retired, gone home to Cremona and married.  Carabinieri are not allowed to marry so long as they are in service, or rather they may marry but only on condition of depositing a sum of money which is fixed at an amount beyond

anything they are likely to be able to lay their hands on.

Having exhausted our questions and answers we returned to the guard-room and the corporal welcomed us by filling our glasses again.  The brigadier, before sitting down, took Angelo aside and became again immersed in conversation; this time he appeared to be getting on more satisfactorily with his instructions.  The artichokes were beginning to lose their attractions for every one, so I took out a packet of cigarettes and offered them round.  In those days there used to be in every packet of Italian cigarettes a loose piece of paper about the size of a postage stamp with a number on it.  Boxes of biscuits in England sometimes have a similar paper to identify the person responsible for the packing should anything be found to be wrong.  In my packet there happened to be two pieces of paper which fluttered out upon the table as I opened it.  The brigadier instantly pounced upon them.  There was silence in the room.  Every one watched and waited.  Each of my pieces of paper bore the number thirty-three.  The brigadier did me the honour of cancelling all his previous orders to Angelo and of

putting his money for next week’s lottery on thirty-three.  The corporal and several of the men who had not intended to gamble changed their minds and gave similar instructions.

It was now time to think of returning, so Angelo got out of the window into the sunlight and went off to fetch the carriage and the guards began to chaff poor Cicciu about his watch-chain which was a massive and extensive affair in silver.  The corporal said they were playing a game with him and offered to teach it to me.  I am not good at games, but this one was so simple that I mastered it in less than a minute and played it thus—

First I asked Cicciu to tell me the time.  He shut up his eyes, showed his teeth and covered his face all over with grinning wrinkles.  Then I asked him the time again.  He replied in the same way.  I asked him again and so on till he had overcome his shyness and at last pulled out his watch which was found to consist of a circular piece of tin with a paper watch-face gummed on to one side of it.  Then we all laughed at the contrast between this and what his elaborate watch-chain had led us to expect.

While we were still laughing, Angelo drove up to the window and said it was time to go, so we began saying “Good-bye.”  Some of the men departed before us, but the brigadier, the corporal and one or two others were going our way.  The brigadier fetched his gun in order to enjoy the chase and we all got out of the window.  Angelo accompanied the hunting party, but the corporal came in the carriage with me and Cicciu drove us round the barley-field to the Temple of Apollo to wait for the others.  On the way we heard the brigadier firing off his gun and wondered what sport he was having, and I took a leaf out of his book of politeness and asked the corporal his age and particulars of his family, after which, of course, I had to tell him all about myself and to promise I would take the first opportunity of visiting him in his home to clink glasses and drink wine with him.

We went all over the ruins while waiting for the hunting party which presently joined us.  The brigadier was satisfied with his sport and permitted himself the pleasure of offering me the spoils—two birds the size of sparrows—which Angelo was to cook for supper.  Then we said “Good-bye,” promising

to exchange picture postcards when I should be back in England.  The corporal, however, was still going our way and we took him in the carriage a little further.  We asked if he could not come with us all the way to Castelvetrano and he seemed inclined to do so, but he had to patrol the coast in the direction of Marsala from eleven o’clock that night till eleven the next morning, and it was so annoying because, as he must go to Castelvetrano in a few days, he might almost just as well come with us now.  We hoped he would see his way to doing so and he hesitated and appeared to be on the point of yielding, but finally made the Herculean choice of duty before pleasure on the very sensible ground that, if it should be discovered he had deserted his post, he would be put into prison for two months.  With the brigadier and all the guards in the secret, it seemed impossible that he should escape detection, so we pressed the invitation no further and took leave of him after exchanging names and addresses and promising to send postcards to one another.

As we drove away I could not but draw a comparison in my mind between the corporal’s refusal of my invitation and mine of his, and

I was ashamed of myself for the way I had scamped