Circumstantial Evidence

[From Chamber’s Journal]

Many years ago—so many that I don’t care to reckon the exact number—it was my lot to pass a great deal of my time in France.  A near relative had married and settled in what may be called the very center of that country—the former province of Berri,—and to his house I used to go during my school holidays, my college vacation, and my army leave of absence.  Near the chateau where my relative lived was one of those small French towns which, being out of the way of the busy world life in which those who inhabit great capitals live, always seem to me the very head-quarters of dullness and ennui. Still, such as it was, Le Blanc was the only place within twenty miles, or more, where a newspaper could be had, a letter could be posted, or a cigar could be purchased.  In France, field sports are not of that exciting nature which they are with us. To rise at 5 A.M., start on a tramp over cultivated ground for five or six hours, and come home very much exhausted for the sake of bringing in a hare or a couple of partridges, was not what I called shooting and so, during my sojourn at Bonasle, I generally confined my wanderings to the small town aforesaid.  Gradually I came to know some of the people and they began to know me.  The Maire used to come forth from his little office, where he smoked all day, and greet me almost as an old friend.  The Cure, who had, as a young man, served in the Algerian army, used to look out for me, and was always glad to hear such tales as I had to tell respecting the wars in India.  Then there were two or three worthy souls, retired officers, who insisted upon taking coffees and petits verres of cognac at their expense whenever they saw me in the single street which constituted the only thoroughfare of the town, and who, when I was a very junior Lieutenant of Dragoons, insisted upon giving me the rank of Major,… Read More