And again Colonel Gilbert looked at Denise slowly and thoughtfully. She
did not perceive the glance, for she was standing with her head half
turned towards the trees.

"Ah!" he said, noting the direction of her glance, "they will throw no
more stones, mademoiselle. You need have no anxiety. They fear a uniform
as much as they hate it."

"And if you had not come at that moment?"

"Ah!" said the colonel, gravely; and that was all. "At any rate, I am
glad I came," he added, in a lighter tone, after a pause. "You were going
to the Mairie, mesdemoiselles, when I arrived. Take my advice, and do not
go there. Go to the abbe if you like--as a man, not as a priest--and come
to me whenever you desire a service, but to no one else in Corsica."

Denise turned as if she were going to make an exception to this sweeping
restriction, but she checked herself and said nothing. And all the while
Mademoiselle Brun stood by in silence, a little, patient, bent woman,
with compressed lips, and those steady hazel eyes that see so much and
betray so little.

"The abbe is not at home," continued the colonel. "I saw him many miles
from here not long ago; and although he is quick on his legs--none
quicker--He cannot be here yet. If you are going towards the Casa
Perucca, you will perhaps allow me to accompany you".

He led the way as he spoke, leading loosely by the bridle the horse which
followed him, and nuzzled thoughtfully at his shoulder. The colonel was,