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 dumb obscurity of the street. And the murmur on the little balcony went on after a short pause."

"But we are laboring to change all that," Antonia protested. "It is exactly what we desire. It is our object. It is the great cause. And the word you despise had stood also for sacrifice, for courage, for constancy, for suffering. Papa, who—"

"Ploughing the sea," interrupted Decoud, looking down.

There was below the sound of hasty and ponderous footsteps.

"Your uncle, the Grand-Vicar of the Cathedral, has just turned under the gate," observed Decoud. "He said mass for the troops in the Plaza this morning. They had built for him an altar of drums, you know And they brought outside all the painted blocks to take the air. All the wooden saints stood militarily in a row at the top of the great flight of steps. They looked like a gorgeous escort attending the Vicar-General. I saw the great function from the windows of the Porvenir. He is amazing, your uncle, the last of the Corbelàns. He glittered exceedingly in his vestments, with a great crimson velvet cross down his back. And all the time our savior Barrios sat in the Amarilla Club drinking punch at an open window. Esprit fort—our Barrios. I expected every moment your uncle to launch an excommunication there and then at the black eye-patch in the window across the Plaza. But not at all. Ultimately the troops marched off. Later on Barrios came down with some of the officers, and stood with his uniform all unbuttoned, discoursing at the edge of the pavement. Suddenly