20
NO RELATIONS.

The researches had been carried on by Mr. J the bed a little shelf, which, on being let down  J heardsome one speak.my name behind mo    I
James Milligan, her brother-in-law.    But there j formed a table and at its feet another, which    urned  d c^cWy   rt^Jrthw.^hom
dailies muii^tiu, lici   ur ur-uci-iix-iti".      sj^. *..v.^ , i.,..^.* . .~.~.
was something peculiar in his being selectedfor  formed a chair
this affair, inasmuch as Mr. James Milligan's
interest therein was opposed to that of his sis-
ter-in-law In short, if his brother died with-
out children he would become his heir. His
search came to nothing; in England, in France,
in Belgium, in Germany, in Italy, it was im-
possible to discover what had become of the
lost child.
However, Mr. James Milligan did not become
his brother's heir, for seven months after her
husband's death Mrs. Milligan had a baby, who
was little Arthur. But this weak and sickly
child could not live, the doctor said; he was
likely to die at any moment. And some day
Mr. James Milligan would at last become heir
A little port-hole, cut out of the side of the
boat, and which could be closed by a round
glass, served to light and ventilate this room.
Never had I seen anything so pretty or _ so
clean; everything was made of polished pine
wood, on the floor was laid down a black and
white checkered oil-cloth.
But it was not the eves alone that were
charmed. When, after having undressed, I lay
down in the bed, I felt a sensation of well-being
quite new to me: it was the first time that
sheets soothed my skin instead of chafing it.
At Mother Barberin's I slept in hempen sheets,
which were stiff and rough. Vitalis and I con-
stantly went to bed without sheets at all, upon
Mr. James Milligan would at last Decome neir sianuy weui iu ucu nu. "=Xr^r . ' r
to the title and fortune of his eldest brother; for ! straw or hay; and when they did give us any
the laws of inheritance are not the same in  at the inns, a good litter of straw had been
all countries, and in England they permit an
uncle to inherit under certain circumstances, to
the exclusion of a mother.
Mr. James Milligan's hopes were thus re-
tarded by the birth of his nephew : they were
not crushed; he had only to wait.
He waited.
But the doctor's predictions were not realized :
Arthur remained weakly; he did not die, how-
ever, as it had been decided that he would; his
mother's care kept him alive. It is a miracle
which, thank God, is often repeated.
Twenty times they thought him lost, twenty
times he was saved. He had had, one after
another, sometimes all together, every ailment
that can fasten upon children. Latterly a ter-
rible infliction, called coxalgia, and which is
seated in the hip, had shown itself. Sulphur
springs had been ordered for this malady, and j
Mrs. Milligan had come to the Pyrenees.
at the inns, a good litter of straw had been
nearly always better. How fine they were,
those in which I rolled myself! how soft they
were! how nice they smelt! And the mattress,
how much more yielding it was than the pine
needles on which Ihad slept last night! The
silence of night was no longer terrifying, the
gloom was no longer peopled; and the stars
that I looked at through the port-hole no longer
spoke aught to me save words of encourage-
ment and of hope.                            .
Comfortably as I had slept in this good bed,
I rose at day-break, for I was uneasy to know
how my comedians had passed the night.
I found all my folks in the place where I
had established them the night before, and
sleeping as if this boat had been their dwelling-
place for months.
At my approach the dogs awoke, and came
joyfully to ask for their morning caress. Joli
Cur,  although he had one eye half   open,
after ITaVin^usdessiy tried The "waters; another never'stirred, "but began to snore like a trom-
treatment had been recommended, which con-  bone.                                            ftj0,ri
sisted in keeping the invalid lying down at full It did not require a great effort to understand
length without allowing him to put foot on the what that meant: Monsieur Joli Cur, who
ground It was then that Mrs. Milligan had j was susceptibility itself, got out of temper with
had built at Bordeaux the boat on which I had extreme facility, and once out of temper, sulked
lust embarked                                                       I for a long time.    Just at present he was an-
She could not think of allowing her son to be  noyed because I had not carried him int^my
.shut up in-doors; he would have died of wear!
ness and the want of fresh air. Arthur being
unable to move about the house, the house in
which he dwelt must move about for him and
with him
room with me, and he showed me his displeas
ure by shamming slumber.
I could not explain to him the reasons whicli
had obliged me, very regretfully, to leave him
on deck; and, as I felt that I had, at least in
ith trim                                                                             ' uu   ricun,   auu, a.v i. i-.   v.  *   -.----,  ~-    --  - .
Thev had transformed a boat into a floating ! appearance, behaved badly to *"m, I took him
house, with bedroom, kitchen, sitting room, and , in my arms to express my sorrow by a few ca-
veranda   In the sitting-room or under the veran- \ resses.                                                   .
da according to the state of the weather, Arthur At first he persisted in his sulkiness, but
staid from inorrfing to night, his mother at soon, with his changeable disposi ion, he
hfss^ideTnd the landscape! passed in procs- I thought of something else and by his panto
nis sine   anu uie '*rm^. Xj_-i..J51n' r   4mo ovrrlninftd to me that if I would take hin
sion before him, without his giving himself any
other trouble than to open his eyes.
They had left Bordeaux a month ago, and,
after having ascended the Garonne, they had
entered the Canal du Midi; this canal would
bring them to the lakes and canals that run
along the Mediterranean shore. Then they
would ascend the Rhone, after it the Saone,
passing from this river into the Loire as far as
Briare, and there through the canal of that
name reach the Seine, and follow the course of
Oliwugnt   yi   yi-.i."_-------'.-7          -i.. I   *     , 
mime explained to me that if I would take him
for a walk on land he might perhaps forgive
me.
The boatman whom I had seen the night be-
fore at the helm was already up and busy clean-
ing the deck; he was quite willing to put out
the plank, and I was able to go out into the
field with my company.
Playing with the dogs and Joli Cur, run-
ning, jumping the ditches, and climbing trees,
the time passed quickly.  When we came back
nninp reach the Seme, and IOUOW me course m   mc nmo p,u H....j.    .. - -----------       .
taa" rfrer as far as Rouen, where they would i the horses were harnessed to the boat and fast
rnai river as iai as ""0 >__      -rii,j        ar.ari ts,  rvinlar nn t.hfbt.owing-oath: thev onh
embark in a great ship to return to England
Of course it was not on the day of my ar-
rival that I learned all these details about Mrs.
Milligan and Arthur. I only knew them one
after the other, little by little; and if I have
gathered them together here, it is to make my
story understood.
The day of my arrival I was made acquainted
only with the room which I was to occupy in
ened to a poplar on the> towing-path; they only
awaited a crack of the whip to start.
I got on board quickly; a few minutes after-
wards the rope that held the boat to the bank
was loosened, the 'helmsman took his place at
the tiller, the towman mounted his horse, the
pulley through which the tow-line passed
groaned: we were off.
How  delightful  to travel in a boat!
OCCUPY  m       nun     vi-.,&u......-    --------        -    ----    -
tWbo'at, which was'called the Swan. Although ! horses trotted along the towing-path and wita-
it was very small, this room, about twelve feet out our feeling any motion we glided hgh.lv
long by six broad, it was the most charming through the water: the t wo wooded bank s fled
cabin, the most wonderful that a childish im- ! behind us, and one heard no other soundXhan
agination could dream of. The furniture with ! that of the water against the keel and sides,
which it was fitted consisted of one cfcest of j whose rippling splash mingled with th i clink-
drawers- but this chest of drawers was like a l ing of the little bells that the horses wore at
conTure^'s inexhaustible bottle, which, contains  their necks.     We went on, and, leaning over
such a number of things. Instead of being
fixed, the top was movable; and when you lift-
ed it you found beneath it a complete bed,
mattress, pillow, and bedclothes.
Of course this bed was not very large; how-
ever, it was quite large enough for one to be
very comfortable in it.    Under this bed was a
llieu   rrrruno.        i.~   .. .---,-----,-----a
the side, I looked at the poplars which, with
their roots buried in the cool grass, rose up
proudly, shaking their ever-trembling leaves m
the still morning air: their long ranks, drawn
up in line along the bank, formed a thick green
curtain which stopped the slanting rays of the
sun, only shedding upon us a soft light that
vprv comfortable in it.     unaer mis  ueu whs    sun, umy   &ucluuu5  up^u  ~~ -------.--
draper filled with all tiie articles necessary for I filtered through the branches. Thewaterlooked
one's toilet; and underneath this drawer was , in some places quite black, as if it hid MBtc
another divided into several compartments, in ; omable abysses; elsewhere, on the contrai}, it
wS you could arrange your line? aud clothes i spread itself .out in trausparen s  whmh
No tables no chairs at least not of the usual , revealed shining pebbles and velvety grasses,
sort! but 'against tS partition at the head of '    I was absorbed in my contemplation when I
they were bringing out on his plank : his mother
was near him.
"Have you slept well?" asked Arthur; ".bet-
ter than in the fields?"
I came near and answered, trying to find po-
lite words, which I addressed , to tho mother
quite as much as to the child.
." And the dogs?" said he.
* : I called them, and Joli Cur too. They came
forward bowing, and Joli Cur making gri-
maces, as if he foresaw that we were going to
give a performance. But there was no question
of any performance that morning.
Mrs. Milligan had installed her son in a place
shaded from the rays of the sun, and she had
seated herself beside him.
" Will you take away the dogs and the
monkey?" said she to me. " We have work to
do."
I did what was required of me, and I went
away with my company quite to the prow.
What work was this poor little invalid fit for?
I saw that his mother made him repeat a lesson, '
the text of which she followed from an open
book. Stretched upon his plank, Arthur re-
peated, without making any movement,or
rather he tried to repeat, for he hesitated ter-
ribly, and did not say three words fluently;
besides that, he often made mistakes. His
mother corrected him gently, but at the same
time with firmness.
"You do not know your fable," she said.
It seemed strange to me hearing  her say
" you " to her son; for I did not know at that
time that English people do not use the "thee"
and "thou."
"Oh, mamma!" said he, in a piteous voice.
" You make more mistakes to-day than you
did yesterday."
"I tried to learn.
" And you have not learned."
" I was not able."
"Why?"                                                          _
" I don't know; because I was not able; I
am ill."
" Your head is not ill. I will never consent
to your learning nothing, growing up in ig-
norance, under pretext of illness."
She seemed to me very strict, Mrs. Milligan;
and still she spoke without anger, and in a gen-
tle voice.
"Why do you distress me by not learning
your lessons?"
" I cannot, mamma; I assure you that J can-
not."
And Arthur began to cry. But Mrs. Milligan
did not allow herself to be overcome by his
tears, although she seemed touched and even
distressed, as she had said.
"I should have liked to let you play this
morning with Remi and the dogs," continued
she: " but you shall not play until you have re-
peated your fable without a mistake."
So saving, she gave the book to Arthur, and
took a few steps as if to go into the interior of
the boat, leaving her son lying on his plank.
He cried and sobbed, and from my place I heard
his broken voice.
How could Mrs. Milligan be strict with this
poor little fellow that she seemed to love so ten-
derly? If he could not learn his lesson it was
not his fault, but was caused by his illness, no
doubt.
She was about to disappear then without say-
ing a kind word to him. But she did not dis-
appear: instead of entering the boat she came
back to her son.
" Would you like that we should learn it to-
gether?" she said.
" Oh, yes, mamma,together."
Then she sat down by him, and, taking the
book again, began to read the fable slowly: it
was called " The Wolf and the Lamb." After
her, Arthur repeated the words and phrases.
When she had read this fable three times, she
gave the book to Arthur; and, telling him to
learn by himself now, she went inside.
Arthur began to read his fable directly, and
from my place where I had stopped I saw his
lips moving. It was evident that he was work-
ing and applying himself to it. But this indus-
try did not "last' long: he soon lifted his eyes
from the book, and his lips moved more slowly,
then all of a sudden they stopped completely.
He was no longer reading, or repeating.    His
eyes, which were wandering in all directions,
met mine.    I made him a sign with my hand
to induce him to go back to his lesson.
1    He smiled gently, as if to  tell me that he