"No, monsieur, we are English," we replied, feeling gently flattered by the compliment to the purity of our French accent.
It was not until some time later that I discovered that the Corsican lower orders, although often speaking the French tongue tolerably fluently, yet were not very correct judges of the French accent. And I confess my vanity received a shock when a young Corsican gentleman at Corte, who had travelled a good deal and lived some time in Paris, remarked, almost before I had opened my mouth, "You are English, I perceive, mademoiselle? One discovers that at once by your accent!"
This gentleman was very agreeable, and gave me some interesting information about his country; but, from his opening speech, I could have told him, however good his accent, that he was not a Frenchman.
"Ah!" said the landlord, thoughtfully, "English, to be sure. They travel a great deal, for they are all rich, as rich as possible."
"No," said I; "some of them are very poor." Whereat our black friend laughed incredulously.
It is simply impossible to convince any uneducated Corsican that England is not a nation composed exclusively of millionaires. He thinks every English person has his pocket full of gold.
England, although well known to them all by name, is to them a sort of Ultima Thule; and the mere fact of a journey taken from such a distance for purposes of pleasure, seems to them conclusive upon the point. "How can you say you are not wealthy when you have come all this way to amuse yourselves?" was frequently said to us in a tone of conviction.
This being the popular notion, it is much to the credit of the people, and a proof of the national simplicity and honesty, that imposition and overcharging to strangers is almost unknown.
A little stir outside now attracted the attention of the landlord, and he left us to finish our lunch alone. This appeared to me a favourable opportunity for depriving the Cap Corse young ladies of a little more of their good soup, and I was just going to help myself to a second basinful when the old woman who had spread the table for us, and who no doubt had suspected my felonious intentions, entered from the kitchen and abruptly bore off the tureen upstairs.
So I had to content myself with munching some sour bread, which my companion was already sharing with a happy family gathered around, consisting of three cats, a dog, two pigeons, and a hen. They did not seem to share our objections to the bread which we found difficult to swallow, even when soaked in the good red wine upon the table.