window, at last wrenched it open and found Ferrol in a dead faint. He
went to the table and brought back the broken bayonet.

"That's all he had to fight with," he said. "Fire of a little hell, but
he had grit--after all!"

"That's all he had to fight with!" she repeated, as she untwisted the
handkerchief from the hilt end. "Why did you say he had true grit--
'after all'? What do you mean by that 'after all'?"

"Well, you don't expect much from a man with only one lung--eh?"

"Courage isn't in the lungs," she answered. Then she added: "Go and
fetch me a bottle of brandy--I'm going to bathe his hands and feet in
brandy and hot water as soon as he's awake."

"Better let mother do that, hadn't you?" he asked rather hesitatingly,
as he moved towards the door.

Her eyes snapped fire. "Nic--mon Dieu, hear the nice Nic!" she said.
"The dear Nic, who went in swimming with--"

She said no more, for he had no desire to listen to an account of his
misdeeds, which were not a few,--and Christine had a galling tongue.

When the door was shut she went to the bed, sat down on a chair beside
it, and looked at Ferrol earnestly and sadly.

"My dear! my dear, dear, dear!" she said in a whisper, "you look so
handsome and so kind as you lie there--like no man I ever saw in my life.