The Boy Life of Napoleon | Page 7

had taken the fruit?
He clapped his hands together in surprise; for the fruit of his uncle the
canon was something no one in the house dared to touch. Punishment
swift and sure would descend upon the culprit.
"But, look!" he said half-aloud; "who has dared to touch the fruit of my
uncle the canon? Touch it? My faith! they have taken half of it. Ah, that
skirt! Could it have been--it must have been one of my sisters. But
which one?"
As he stood thus wondering, his eyes still fixed upon the rifled basket
of fruit, he heard behind him a voice that tried to be harsh and stern,
calling his name.
"Napoleon!" cried the new-comer, "what are you doing at the sideboard?
and why have you opened it? You know we have forbidden you to take
anything to eat before mealtime. What have you done?"
It was the voice of his uncle, the Canon Lucien. Napoleon, turning at
the question, met the glance of his uncle fastened upon him. The Canon
Lucien Bonaparte was a funny looking, fat little man, as bald as he was
good-natured,--and that was very bald,--and with a smooth,
ordinary-appearing face, only remarkable for the same sharp, eagle-like
look that marked his nephew Napoleon when he, too, became a man.
Napoleon looked at his uncle the canon with indignation and denial on
his face. "Why, my uncle, I have taken nothing!" he declared.
Then suddenly he remembered how he had been discovered by his
uncle standing before the half-emptied basket of fruit. Could it be that
the old gentleman suspected him of pilfering? Would he dare accuse
him of the crime?

At the thought his face flushed red and hot. For you must know, boys
and girls, that sometimes the fear of being suspected of a misdeed, even
when one is absolutely innocent, brings to the face the flush that is
considered a sign of guilt, and thus people are misunderstood and
wrongfully accused. When one is high-spirited this is more liable to
occur. It was so, at this moment, with the little Napoleon. His confused
air, his flushed face, even his look of indignant denial, joined as
evidence against him so strongly that his uncle the canon said sharply,
"Come, you, Napoleon! do not lie to me now."
At that remark all the boy's pride was on fire.
[Illustration: "'I never lie uncle, you know I never lie!' said Napoleon"]
"I never lie, uncle; you know I never lie!" he cried hotly.
But Uncle Lucien was so certain of the boy's guilt that he mistook his
pride for impudence. And yet he was such a good-natured old fellow,
and loved his nieces and nephews so dearly, that he tried to soften and
belittle the theft of his precious fruit.
"No harm is done," he said, "if you but tell me what you have done.
The fruit can be replaced, and I will say nothing, though you know you
are forbidden to meddle with my fruit. But I do not love to see you
doing wrong. I will not tolerate a lie. I do not know just what you have
done; but if you will tell me the truth, I will--of course I will--pardon
you. Why did you take my fruit?"
"I took nothing, uncle," the boy declared. "It was"--then he stopped.
Suppose it had been taken by one of his sisters, or by Panoria, their
guest? The flutter of the departing skirt, as he came into the room,
assured him it was one of these. But which one? And why should he
accuse the little girls? It was not manly, and he wished to be a man.
More than this, he was angry to think that he had been suspected, more
angry yet to think he had been accused by good Uncle Lucien, and
furiously angry to think that his word was doubted; so he said nothing
further.

"Ah, so! It was--you, then," the canon said, shaking his head in
sorrowful belief.
"No; I did not say so!" exclaimed Napoleon. "It was not I."
"Take care, take care, my son," the canon said, very nearly losing his
temper over what he considered Napoleon's insincerity. "You cannot
deceive me. See! look at yourself in the glass. Your face betrays you. It
is red with shame."
"Then is my color a liar, uncle; but I am not," Napoleon insisted.
"What were you doing here, all alone?" asked his uncle.
"I was thirsty," replied the nephew. "I did but come for a drink of
water."
"That perhaps is so," said Uncle Lucien. "There is no harm in that. You
came for a drink of water; but, how was it after that,--eh, my friend?"
"That is all, uncle," replied Napoleon.
"And the water? Have you taken a drink of