liging poor Lydia to undergo a kind of cross-examination, which did
not conclude until he had quite put her out of countenance.

"It seems to me," said the prefect, "that we may release everybody.
These young ladies went out for a walk--nothing is more natural in fine
weather. They happened to meet a charming young man, who has been lately
wounded--nothing could be more natural, again." Then, taking Colomba
aside--

"Signorina," he said, "you can send word to your brother that
this business promises to turn out better than I had expected. The
post-mortem examination and the colonel's deposition both prove that he
only defended himself, and that he was alone when the fight took place.
Everything will be settled--only he must leave the _maquis_ and give
himself up to the authorities."

It was almost eleven o'clock when the colonel, his daughter, and Colomba
sat down at last to their supper, which had grown cold. Colomba ate
heartily, and made great fun of the prefect, the public prosecutor,
and the soldiers. The colonel ate too, but never said a word, and gazed
steadily at his daughter, who would not lift her eyes from her plate. At
last, gently but seriously, he said in English:

"Lydia, I suppose you are engaged to della Rebbia?"

"Yes, father, to-day," she answered, steadily, though she blushed. Then
she raised her eyes, and reading no sign of anger in her father's face,
she threw herself into his arms and kissed him, as all well-brought-up
young ladies do on such occasions.

"With all my heart!" said the colonel. "He's a fine fellow. But, by
G--d, we won't live in this d---d country of his, or I'll refuse my
consent."

"I don't know English," said Colomba, who was watching them with an air
of the greatest curiosity, "but I'll wager I've guessed what you are
saying!"

"We are saying," quoth the colonel, "that we are going to take you for a
trip to Ireland."

"Yes, with pleasure; and I'll be the Surella Colomba. Is it settled,
colonel? Shall we shake hands on it?"

"In such a case," remarked the colonel, "people exchanges kisses!"

CHAPTER XX

One afternoon, a few months after the double shot which, as the
newspapers said, "plunged the village of Pietranera into a state of
consternation," a young man with his left arm in a sling, rode out of
Bastia, toward the village of Cardo, celebrated for its spring, which
in summer supplies the more fastidious inhabitants of the town with
delicious water. He was