"Put it there," she said, pointing to the table. "You watch him till I
come. I'll be back in an hour; and then, when he wakes, we'll bathe him
in the hot water and brandy."

"Who told you about hot water and brandy?" he asked her, curiously.

She did not answer him, but passed through the door and down the hall
till she came to Nic's bedroom; she went in, took a pair of pistols from
the wall, examined them, found they were fully loaded, and hurried from
the room.

About a half-hour later she appeared before the house which once had
belonged to Vanne Castine. The mortgage had been foreclosed, and the
place had passed into the hands of Sophie and Magon Farcinelle;
but Castine had taken up his abode in the house a few days before,
and defied anyone to put him out.

A light was burning in the kitchen of the house. There were no curtains
to the window, but an old coat had been hung up to serve the purpose, and
light shone between a sleeve of it and the window-sill. Putting her face
close to the window, the girl could see the bear in the corner, clawing
at its chain and tossing its head from side to side, still panting and
angry from the fight.

Now and again, also, it licked the bayonet-wound between its shoulders,
and rubbed its lacerated nose on its paw. Castine was mixing some tar
and oil in a pan by the fire, to apply to the still bleeding wounds of
his Michael. He had an ugly grin on his face.

He was dressed just as in the first day he appeared in the village, even