"Hat off, lad! and salute your kingdom!"
"But where," said I, "be my subjects?"
It seemed, as we formed ourselves into marching order, that I was on
the point to be answered. For above the bank we came to a causeway
which our lanterns plainly showed us to be man's handiwork; and
following it round the bend of a valley, where a stream sang its way
down to the creek, came suddenly on a flat meadow swept by the pale
light and rising to a grassy slope, where a score of whitewashed
houses huddled around a tall belfry, all glimmering under the moon.
"In Corsica," repeated my father, leading the way across the meadow,
"every householder is a host."
He halted at the base of the village street.
"It is curious, however, that the dogs have not heard us.
Their barking, as a rule, is something to remember."
He stepped up to the first house to knock. There was no door to
knock upon. The building stood open, desolate. Our lanterns showed
the grass growing on its threshold.
We tried the next and the next. The whole village lay dead,
abandoned. We gathered in the street and shouted, raising our
lanterns aloft.
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