southern window
and back again into free air. Finally, the two settled down upon the
parapet of the little shallow balcony which was there to have their
disagreement out, and they talked it over with a great deal of noise and
many threatening gestures and a complete loss of temper on both sides.
Ste. Marie, from his bed, cheered them on, but there came a commotion in
the ivy which draped the wall below, and the two birds fled in
ignominious haste, and just in the nick of time, for when the cause of
the commotion shot into view it was a large black cat, of great bodily
activity and an ardent single-heartedness of aim.

The black cat gazed for a moment resentfully after its vanished prey,
and then composed its sleek body upon the iron rail, tail and paws
tucked neatly under. Ste. Marie chirruped, and the cat turned yellow
eyes upon him in mild astonishment, as one who should say, "Who the
deuce are you, and what the deuce are you doing here?" He chirruped
again, and the cat, after an ostentatious yawn and stretch, came to
him--beating up to windward, as it were, and making the bed in three
tacks. When O'Hara entered the room some time later he found his patient
in a very cheerful frame of mind, and the black cat sitting on his chest
purring like a dynamo and kneading like an industrious baker.

"Ho," said the Irishman, "you seem to have found a friend!"

"Well, I need one friend here," argued Ste. Marie. "I'm in the enemy's
stronghold. You needn't be alarmed; the cat can't tell me anything, and
it can't help me to escape. It can only sit on me and purr. That's
harmless enough."

O'Hara began one of his gruff laughs, but he seemed to remember himself
in the middle of it and assumed an intimidating scowl instead.

"How's the leg?" he demanded, shortly. "Let me see it." He took off the
bandages and cleansed and sprayed the wound with some antiseptic liquid
that he had brought in a bottle. "There's a little fever," said he, "but
that can't be avoided. You're going on very well--a good deal better
than you'd any right to expect." He had to inflict not a little pain in
his examination and redressing of the wound. He knew that, and once or
twice he glanced up at Ste. Marie's face with a sort of reluctant
admiration for the man who could bear so much without any sign whatever.
In the end he put together his things and nodded with professional
satisfaction. "You'll do well enough now for the rest of the day," he
said. "I'll s