It was long before Orso fell asleep, and as a consequence he woke late--late for a Corsican, at all events.

When he left his bed, the first object that struck his gaze was the house of his enemies, and the _archere_ with which they had furnished it.

He went downstairs and asked for his sister.
"She is in the kitchen, melting bullets," answered Saveria, the woman-servant.
So he could not take a step without being pursued by the image of war.
He found Colomba sitting on a stool, surrounded by freshly cast bullets, and cutting up strips of lead.
"What the devil are you doing ?" inquired her brother.
"You had no bullets for the colonel's gun," she answered, in her soft voice.

"I found I had a mould for that calibre, and you shall have four-and-twenty cartridges to-day, brother." "I don't need them, thank God!" "You mustn't be taken at a disadvantage, Ors' Anton'.

You have forgotten your country, and the people who are about you." "If I had forgotten, you would soon have reminded me.