THE LANGUEDOCIAN SCORPION 241 



him. He has been jilted. Sheepishly, he returns indoors. 

 I follow his example. 



June sets in. For fear of a disturbance caused by too 

 brilliant an illumination, I have hitherto kept the lantern 

 hung outside, at some distance from the pane. The in- 

 sufficient light does not allow me to observe certain 

 details as to the manner in which the couple are linked 

 when strolling. Do they both play an active part 

 in the scheme of the clasped hands ? Are their fingers 

 interlinked alternately ? Or does only one of the pair 

 act ; and, if so, which ? Let us ascertain exactly ; the 

 thing is not without importance. 



I place the lantern inside, in the centre of the cage. 

 There is a good light everywhere. Far from being scared, 

 the Scorpions gain in gladness. They hasten up around 

 the beacon ; some even try to climb it, so as to be nearer 

 the flame. They succeed in doing so by means of the 

 frames containing the glass squares. They hang on to 

 the edges of the tin strips and stubbornly, heedless of 

 slipping, end by reaching the top. There, motionless, lying 

 partly on the glass, partly on the support of the metal 

 casing, they gaze the whole evening long, fascinated by the 

 glory of the wick. They remind me of the Great Peacock 

 Moths that used to hang in ecstasy under the reflector of 

 my lamp. 



At the foot of the beacon, in the full light, a couple 

 loses no time in doing the straight bend. The two 

 fence prettily with their tails and then go a-strolling. 

 The male alone acts. With the two fingers of each claw, 

 he has seized the two fingers of the corresponding claw 

 of the Scorpioness in a bunch. He alone exerts himself 

 and squeezes ; he alone is at liberty to break the team 

 when he likes : he has but to open his pincers. The 



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