ON Sunday morning Ferrol lay resting on a sofa in a little room off the saloon.

He had suffered somewhat from the bruise on his head, and while the Lavilettes, including Christine, were at mass, he remained behind, alone in the house, save for two servants in the kitchen.

From where he lay he could look down into the village.

He was thinking of the tangle into which things had got.

Feeling was bitter against him, and against the Lavilettes also, now that the patriots were defeated.