lush of anger. A flag-staff
had been erected in the centre of the village, and upon it had been run
up the French tricolour. He stood and looked at the shouting crowd
a moment, then swung round and went to the office of the Regimental
Surgeon, who met him at the door. When he came out again he carried a
little bundle under his left arm. He made straight for the crowd,
which was scattered in groups, and pushed or threaded his way to the
flag-staff. He was at least a head taller than any man there, and though
he was not so upright as he had been, the lines of his figure were still
those of a commanding personality. A sort of platform had been erected
around the flag-staff and on it a drunken little habitant was talking
treason. Without a word, Ferrol stepped upon the platform, and,
loosening the rope, dropped the tricolour half-way down the staff before
his action was quite comprehended by the crowd. Presently a hoarse shout
proclaimed the anger and consternation of the habitants.

"Leave that flag alone," shouted a dozen voices. "Leave it where it is!"
others repeated with oaths.

He dropped it the full length of the staff, whipped it off the string,
and put his foot upon it. Then he unrolled the bundle which he had
carried under his arm. It was the British flag. He slipped it upon the
string, and was about to haul it up, when the drunken orator on the
platform caught him by the arm with fiery courage.

"Here, you leave that alone: that's not our flag, and if you string it
up, we'll string you up, bagosh!" he roared.

Ferrol's heavy walking-stick was in his right hand. "Let go my
arm-quick!" he said quietly.

He was no coward, and these people were, and he knew it. The habitant
drew back.

"Get off the platform," he said with quiet menace.

He turned quickly to the crowd, for some had sprung towards the platform
to pull him off. Raising his voice, he said:

"Stand back, and hear what I've got to say. You're a hundred to one. You
can probably kill me; but before you do that I shall kill three or four
of you. I've had to do with rioters before. You little handful of people
here--little more than half a million--imagine that you can defeat
thirty-five millions, with an army of half a million, a hundred
battle-ships, ten thousand cannon and a million rifles. Come now, don't
be fools. The Governor alone up there in Montreal has enough men to
drive you all into the hills of Maine in a week. You think you've got
the s