Prosper Mérimée — a wounded bandit, a silver watch, and a father for whom honour outweighs everything.
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Each new word is hidden in a sentence. Read it aloud and say what you think the bold word means from the rest of the sentence — then reveal it and see how close you were.
Read each part. After it, there's a quick comprehension check (try the questions from memory first), then one thing to discuss.
Leaving Porto-Vecchio and turning inland, the traveller comes after a few hours to the edge of the maquis — a tangled sea of scrub so dense that a man can vanish into it for years. The maquis is the homeland of the Corsican shepherds, and of anyone who has fallen out with justice. If you have killed a man, go into the maquis of Porto-Vecchio: with a good gun, powder and shot, you will live there in safety.
Mateo Falcone lived half a league from the maquis. He was rich, for that country, living nobly off his flocks; and he was famous. Of his marksmanship it was said that at eighty paces, by night as by day, he never missed. He was a good friend, a dangerous enemy, and at peace with all the world. His wife Giuseppa had given him three daughters — which enraged him — and at last a son, Fortunato: the hope of the family, the inheritor of the name. The boy was ten years old, and full of promise.
One autumn morning, Mateo and his wife set out to visit their flocks, leaving Fortunato alone. The boy was lying in the sun when he heard a shot, then others, nearer and nearer. A man appeared on the path — bearded, in rags, dragging a wounded leg. It was Gianetto Sanpiero, an outlaw of the maquis, ambushed by soldiers on his way to town.
"You are the son of Mateo Falcone?" — "Yes." — "I am pursued. Hide me." — "And what will my father say if I hide you without his leave?" — "He will say you did well." — "Who knows?" — "Hide me quickly, or I will kill you." The boy answered with perfect coolness: "Your gun is empty, and there are no cartridges left in your belt." — "I have my stiletto." — "But can you run as fast as I can?" One leap put him out of reach. "You are no son of Mateo Falcone! Will you let me be taken in front of your own house?" The boy seemed moved. "What will you give me if I hide you?" The outlaw dug in his pouch and drew out a five-franc piece. Fortunato smiled at the sight of the silver; he seized it and said, "Fear nothing." He hid Gianetto in the haystack beside the house, set a cat and her kittens on top so that the hay would look undisturbed, and scattered dust over the blood on the path. Then he lay down again in the sun, perfectly calm.
1. Who is Gianetto Sanpiero, and why does he come to the Falcone house?
2. What finally persuades Fortunato to hide him — and how does the boy make the hiding place safe?
1. An outlaw of the maquis, wounded in the leg and fleeing the soldiers who ambushed him on his way to town. The Falcone house is the last shelter before they catch him.
2. Neither threats nor appeals to the family name work — only a five-franc piece. He hides Gianetto in the haystack, puts a cat and kittens on top so it looks untouched, and covers the blood with dust.
A few minutes later six soldiers in brown, with yellow collars, stood before the house. Their leader, Sergeant Tebaldo Gamba, was a distant cousin of the Falcones and a famous hunter of bandits. "Good day, little cousin," said he. "How tall you have grown! Did you see a man pass just now?" The boy played the simpleton until Gamba lost patience. "You rascal! You saw Gianetto pass — perhaps you have even hidden him. Tell me where he is, or I will take you to Corte, and put you in a cell on straw, in irons, and you will lose your head unless you talk." The child laughed. "My father is Mateo Falcone!" And the sergeant felt, in his heart, that he dared not touch him.
The soldiers searched the house and found nothing. Gamba was ready to give up when he tried one last weapon. He drew from his pocket a silver watch — worth a good ten crowns — and let it swing on its chain. "Little rogue," he said, "you would like a watch like this hanging from your neck as you walk the streets of Porto-Vecchio, proud as a peacock. Tell me where Gianetto is, and the watch is yours." Fortunato eyed it sideways, as a cat eyes a whole chicken it dares not take. "Why do you mock me?" — "By God, I am not mocking. Only tell me, and it is yours." The watch swung, turned, and touched the very tip of the boy's nose. Slowly his right hand rose towards it; his fingertips closed on it; the whole weight of it lay in his palm — and without turning his head, he lifted his left thumb and pointed over his shoulder at the haystack.
The soldiers tore the hay apart. Gianetto was dragged out and bound. Lying on the ground, he turned on the boy a look more of contempt than of anger. Fortunato threw back to him the five-franc piece, feeling he no longer had any right to it; the outlaw did not seem to notice. Then, as they carried him past on a litter, Gianetto spat on the threshold of the house. "House of a traitor!" he said.
1. Why can't Gamba simply frighten Fortunato into talking?
2. How does Fortunato betray the hiding place — and what does he do with the five-franc piece afterwards?
1. Because the boy is Mateo Falcone's son. Gamba knows that harming the child of such a man is unthinkable — the threats are empty, and Fortunato knows it too.
2. He takes the silver watch in his hand and, without a word, points his thumb over his shoulder at the haystack. Afterwards he throws Gianetto's five-franc piece back to him, feeling he no longer has any right to it.
At that moment Mateo and his wife appeared at the turn of the path. "It is I — Gamba, your cousin!" the sergeant called out quickly. "We have just taken Gianetto Sanpiero. But he was so well hidden that the devil himself would not have found him. Without my little cousin Fortunato, I should never have found him at all." — "Fortunato!" said Mateo. "Fortunato!" repeated Giuseppa. "Yes — Gianetto was hidden in that haystack there, but my little cousin showed me the trick." Mateo said nothing.
The soldiers left, carrying their prisoner towards the town. Ten minutes passed before Mateo spoke. "That watch. Who gave it to you?" — "My cousin the sergeant." Mateo seized it and hurled it against a stone, where it shattered into pieces. "Woman," he said, "is this child mine?" Giuseppa's cheeks turned brick-red. "What are you saying, Mateo? Do you know who it is you speak to?" — "Then this child is the first of his race to commit treachery." The boy's sobs redoubled; Mateo kept his lynx eyes upon him. At last he struck the ground with the butt of his gun, shouldered it, and took the path towards the maquis, calling on Fortunato to follow. Giuseppa seized Mateo's arm. "He is your son," she said. "Leave me," he answered. "I am his father." She kissed her boy and went back into the hut, where she fell on her knees before an image of the Virgin and prayed.
Mateo walked some two hundred paces and stopped only at a ravine, where the earth was soft. "Fortunato, go and stand by that big rock. Say your prayers." — "Father! Father! Do not kill me!" — "Say your prayers!" Stammering and sobbing, the child recited the Our Father and the Creed, and the father, in a firm voice, answered Amen at the close of each. "Father, have mercy! Forgive me! I will beg my cousin the corporal to pardon Gianetto—" He was still speaking. Mateo raised his gun, took aim, and said: "May God forgive you." He fired. Fortunato fell dead. Without a glance at the body, Mateo turned back towards the house for a spade. He had gone only a few steps when he met Giuseppa, running, alarmed by the shot. "What have you done?" she cried. "Justice." — "Where is he?" — "In the ravine. I am going to bury him. He died a Christian; I shall have a mass sung for him. Tell my son-in-law Tiodoro Bianchi to come and live with us."
1. What does Mateo do with the watch, and what does he say about his family?
2. What are Mateo's final words about his son?
1. He smashes it to pieces against a stone, and declares that Fortunato is "the first of his race to commit treachery" — even asking Giuseppa whether the child is really his.
2. "He died a Christian; I shall have a mass sung for him." Then, in the same breath, he arranges the practical future: his son-in-law must come and live with them.
This story runs on terms and conditions: hide me and I'll pay you; tell me and the watch is yours; break faith with the family, and nothing can save you. English states terms like these with a small set of powerful linkers — and mastering them lets you bargain, warn and negotiate with precision.
Use each of these exactly once: unless · provided that · as long as · on condition that · even if.
1. Gianetto knows he is finished the boy agrees to hide him. (if this doesn't happen)
2. "I'll say nothing," thinks Fortunato, " I am paid for my silence." (setting his term)
3. A fugitive could live in the maquis for years he had a good gun and powder. (for the whole time this was true)
4. Gamba cannot lay a finger on the boy — Fortunato laughs in his face. (the condition changes nothing)
5. The sergeant states his terms plainly: the watch is Fortunato's he shows where the bandit is hidden. (the formal terms of the deal)
1. unless
2. provided that
3. as long as
4. even if
5. on condition that
1. If you don't show me the hiding place, you get nothing. →
2. I'll hide you — but only if you pay me first. →
3. Giuseppa can plead all she likes; Mateo will not change his mind. →
1. Unless you show me the hiding place, you get nothing.
2. I'll hide you provided that you pay me first.
3. Even if Giuseppa pleads all she likes, Mateo will not change his mind.
Fill each gap with a linker so the paragraph states every bargain in the story. Then read it aloud.
The soldiers will take Gianetto the boy helps him. Fortunato agrees — but only he is paid; five francs buys his loyalty. Then Gamba names his own terms: the watch is the boy's he betrays his guest. For Mateo, the name Falcone is worth keeping only every Falcone keeps faith — and once faith is broken, his own child weeps and pleads, the sentence will not change.
unless the boy helps him · but only provided that he is paid · the watch is the boy's on condition that he betrays his guest · worth keeping only as long as every Falcone keeps faith · even if his own child weeps and pleads
Every turn of the story is a condition — and Mateo is the only character whose terms cannot be bought.
Hold on to these — you'll want them in the Speak tab, where every bargain in the story needs its terms stated.
You have the story and the words. Now push the ideas outward — argue, disagree, change your mind. Do all of this out loud. There are no right answers here, only good reasons.
In Mateo's Corsica, a family's honour is worth more than a child's life. But what is honour, exactly — reputation? self-respect? a kind of social currency? Build the case that honour codes protect people in a world without reliable law — then build the case that they destroy the very people they claim to protect. What has replaced honour in modern societies: law, reputation, online reviews… or nothing at all?
He is ten years old. He hid a man for money and sold him for a watch. Is Fortunato guilty — and if so, of what, exactly? Consider each candidate for the blame: the boy who took the watch, the sergeant who dangled it, the father who raised him inside the code, and the world that put a price on everything. Rank them from most to least responsible, and defend your ranking.
Mérimée prices everything with cold precision: five francs to hide a man, a ten-crown watch to betray him. Why do you think the author gives us the exact figures? Talk about what can and cannot honestly be bought — loyalty, silence, forgiveness, a good name — and what happens to a community when those things go on sale. Where in history, film or the news have you seen a "silver watch" moment?
Some of Mérimée's first readers saw Mateo as a monster; others saw a man of terrible integrity, obeying the only law his world respected. Try, honestly, to make the strongest possible case for him — then explain exactly where the case collapses for a modern reader. What does the gap between 1829 and today teach us about how morality changes over time — and which of today's certainties might look monstrous in two hundred years?
This is the heart of the lesson — do all of it out loud. The timer is there to keep you going: fill the time with detail rather than escaping it.
Tell the story of Mateo Falcone in your own words, as if to someone who has never heard it. Move through the arc: the maquis → the wounded Gianetto → the five-franc bargain → Gamba's empty threats → the silver watch → the betrayal → "house of a traitor" → Mateo's return → the ravine.
Use at least two conditional linkers to state the story's bargains, and work in five of today's key words.
Imagine Mateo stands before a modern court. Speak for two minutes as the prosecutor — then switch, and speak for two minutes as his defence lawyer, arguing from the values of his own time and place. Each speech must contain at least one sentence with unless and one with as long as or provided that.
Replay the story's two great negotiations — with better terms. First you are Gianetto at the door with thirty seconds to live: make Fortunato an offer he cannot refuse, using provided that, as long as and on condition that. Then you are Gamba — but this time threats and bribes are forbidden: find another way to talk the truth out of a clever ten-year-old, and state your conditions out loud.