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snow…laden woods； when； in a sheltering hollow； a fire had been
lit by the party； the condition of the quarry was discovered to
be distinctly unsatisfactory。 It was not thinon the contrary；
it seemed unhealthily obese； its skin showed bare patches of an
unpleasant character。 However； they had not killed that dog for
the sake of the pelt。 He was large。 。 。 。 He was eaten。 。 。 。
The rest is silence。 。 。 。
A silence in which a small boy shudders and says firmly：
〃I could not have eaten that dog。〃
And his grandmother remarks with a smile：
〃Perhaps you don't know what it is to be hungry。〃
I have learned something of it since。 Not that I have been
reduced to eat dog。 I have fed on the emblematical animal；
which； in the language of the volatile Gauls； is called la vache
enragee； I have lived on ancient salt junk； I know the taste of
shark； of trepang； of snake； of nondescript dishes containing
things without a namebut of the Lithuanian village dognever！
I wish it to be distinctly understood that it is not I； but my
granduncle Nicholas； of the Polish landed gentry； Chevalier de la
Legion d'Honneur； etc。； who in his young days； had eaten the
Lithuanian dog。
I wish he had not。 The childish horror of the deed clings
absurdly to the grizzled man。 I am perfectly helpless against
it。 Still； if he really had to； let us charitably remember that
he had eaten him on active service； while bearing up bravely
against the greatest military disaster of modern history； and； in
a manner； for the sake of his country。 He had eaten him to
appease his hunger； no doubt； but also for the sake of an
unappeasable and patriotic desire； in the glow of a great faith
that lives still； and in the pursuit of a great illusion kindled
like a false beacon by a great man to lead astray the effort of a
brave nation。
Pro patria！
Looked at in that light； it appears a sweet and decorous meal。
And looked at in the same light； my own diet of la vache enragee
appears a fatuous and extravagant form of self…indulgence； for
why should I； the son of a land which such men as these have
turned up with their plowshares and bedewed with their blood；
undertake the pursuit of fantastic meals of salt junk and
hardtack upon the wide seas？ On the kindest view it seems an
unanswerable question。 Alas！ I have the conviction that there
are men of unstained rectitude who are ready to murmur scornfully
the word desertion。 Thus the taste of innocent adventure may be
made bitter to the palate。 The part of the inexplicable should
be al lowed for in appraising the conduct of men in a world where
no explanation is final。 No charge of faithlessness ought to be
lightly uttered。 The appearances of this perishable life are
deceptive； like everything that falls under the judgment of our
imperfect senses。 The inner voice may remain true enough in its
secret counsel。 The fidelity to a special tradition may last
through the events of an unrelated existence； following
faithfully； too； the traced way of an inexplicable impulse。
It would take too long to explain the intimate alliance of
contradictions in human nature which makes love itself wear at
times the desperate shape of betrayal。 And perhaps there is no
possible explanation。 Indulgenceas somebody saidis the most
intelligent of all the virtues。 I venture to think that it is
one of the least common； if not the most uncommon of all。 I
would not imply by this that men are foolishor even most men。
Far from it。 The barber and the priest； backed by the whole
opinion of the village； condemned justly the conduct of the
ingenious hidalgo； who； sallying forth from his native place；
broke the head of the muleteer； put to death a flock of
inoffensive sheep； and went through very doleful experiences in a
certain stable。 God forbid that an unworthy churl should escape
merited censure by hanging on to the stirrup…leather of the
sublime caballero。 His was a very noble； a very unselfish
fantasy； fit for nothing except to raise the envy of baser
mortals。 But there is more than one aspect to the charm of that
exalted and dangerous figure。 He； too； had his frailties。 After
reading so many romances he desired naively to escape with his
very body from the intolerable reality of things。 He wished to
meet； eye to eye； the valorous giant Brandabarbaran； Lord of
Arabia； whose armour is made of the skin of a dragon； and whose
shield； strapped to his arm； is the gate of a fortified city。
Oh； amiable and natural weakness！ Oh； blessed simplicity of a
gentle heart without guile！ Who would not succumb to such a
consoling temptation？ Nevertheless； it was a form of
self…indulgence； and the ingenious hidalgo of La Mancha was not a
good citizen。 The priest and the barber were not unreasonable in
their strictures。 Without going so far as the old King
Louis…Philippe； who used to say in his exile； 〃The people are
never in fault〃one may admit that there must be some
righteousness in the assent of a whole village。 Mad！ Mad！ He
who kept in pious meditation the ritual vigil…of…arms by the well
of an inn and knelt reverently to be knighted at daybreak by the
fat； sly rogue of a landlord has come very near perfection。 He
rides forth； his head encircled by a halothe patron saint of
all lives spoiled or saved by the irresistible grace of
imagination。 But he was not a good citizen。
Perhaps that and nothing else was meant by the well…remembered
exclamation of my tutor。
It was in the jolly year 1873； the very last year in which I have
had a jolly holiday。 There have been idle years afterward； jolly
enough in a way and not altogether without their lesson； but this
year of which I speak was the year of my last school…boy holiday。
There are other reasons why I should remember that year； but they
are too long to state formally in this place。 Moreover； they
have nothing to do with that holiday。 What has to do with the
holiday is that before the day on which the remark was made we
had seen Vienna； the Upper Danube； Munich； the Falls of the
Rhine； the Lake of Constance；in fact； it was a memorable
holiday of travel。 Of late we had been tramping slowly up the
Valley of the Reuss。 It was a delightful time。 It was much more
like a stroll than a tramp。 Landing from a Lake of Lucerne
steamer in Fluelen； we found ourselves at the end of the second
day； with the dusk overtaking our leisurely footsteps； a little
way beyond Hospenthal。 This is not the day on which the remark
was made： in the shadows of the deep valley and with the
habitations of men left some way behind； our thoughts ran not
upon the ethics of conduct； but upon the simpler human problem of
shelter and food。 There did not seem anything of the kind in
sight； and we were thinking of turning back when suddenly； at a
bend of the road； we came upon a building； ghostly in the
twilight。
At that time the work on the St。 Gothard Tunnel was going on； and
that magnificent enterprise of burrowing was directly responsible
for the unexpected building； standing all alone upon the very
roots of the mountains。 It was long； though not big at all； it
was low； it was built of boards； without ornamentation； in
barrack…hut style； with the white window…frames quite flush with
the yellow face of its plain front。 And yet it was a hotel； it
had even a name； which I have forgotten。 But there was no gold
laced doorkeeper at its humble door。 A plain but vigorous
servant…girl answered our inquiries； then a man and woman who
owned the place appeared。 It was clear that no travellers were
expected； or perhaps even desired； in this strange hostelry；
which in its severe style resembled the house which sur mounts
the unseaworthy…looking hulls of the toy Noah's Arks； the
universal possession of European childhood。 However； its roof
was not hinged and it was not full to the brim of slab…sided and
painted animals of wood。 Even the live tourist animal was
nowhere in evidence。 We had something to eat in a long； narrow
room at one end of a long； narrow table； which； to my tired
perception and to my sleepy eyes； seemed as if it would tilt up
like a see saw plank； since there was no one at the other end to
balance it against our two dusty and travel…stained figures。
Then we hastened up stairs to bed in