CHAPTER XIII.
THE REVOLUTION IN ARTILLERY.
"Oh, what is that ?" muttered Cesarine, with white lips.
Hedwig laughed, but going to the window, calmly replied: "It is only the master--no, it is M.Antonino, who is trying the rifle they invented.

Isn't it funny, though--it does not use powder or anything of that sort--it does not shoot out fire, but only the bullet, and there's no smoke! I never heard of such a thing, and I call it magic!" "A gun without powder, and no fire or smoke," repeated Madame Clemenceau.

"It is, indeed, a marvel!" and she approached the window in uncontrollable curiosity.

"Is he going to shoot again ?" "Well, he gets an appetite by popping at the sparrows before breakfast.
He is not much of a marksman like master, who is dead on the center, every military officer says--but, in the morning, the birds' wings are heavy with dew, and he makes a very pretty bag now and then.

What must the sparrows think to be killed and not smell any powder!" "I wish you would tell him to go farther, or leave off!" said Cesarine, looking out at the young man with the light rifle, fascinated but fearing.
"The obedience will be more prompt if you would tell him, madame," returned the maid, "for M.Antonino would do anything for you.