When he got back, he lit two scraps of candle and placed the monkey's body between them. Then he stripped himself to the waist, and, going to the wooden chest that held his few possessions, took out of it a small brass medal, tarnished green by the damp. On it was the image of the Mother of God. Her face was quiet--she had seven swords in her heart. This, together with the knife that Andrew had given him, he also put on the table between the candles. He then knelt and began to pray in Mahonese. The form of prayer was one peculiar to the men of the islands and unacknowledged by Rome. Andrew would have thought him even too alien, if he had seen him then--the muscles of his stripped body trembled with the vehemence of his supplication--he was dedicating Andrew's knife to Our Lady of Vengeance. After a time had passed, he rose again, put on his soaked shirt, and went stiffly out to dig the childish grave. 4. Next morning, in spite of Andrew's resolve, the two friends did not meet. Instead, Sparta had a wish to go riding through the new-washed and freshly-scented countryside, and when they returned, Dr. Gentian, a cloud on his brow, was dismissing a deputation of the elder Minorcans from his study. He turned to Andrew sharply, the moment he saw him. "Was your ride a pleasant one, lad?" he said, abstractedly, "Come with me a moment--there is something I would have your advice on." "Certainly, sir," said Andrew, pleased at being consulted. He turned to Sparta. "You'll excuse me, mistress?" he said lightly. "I shall excuse you sir," said Sparta smiling, her fingers playing with the lash of her riding-whip. Dr. Gentian shut the door of his study. "The Minorcans are making trouble," he said without preface. "I thought it best you should know." "Making trouble?" said Andrew, jarred. He somehow felt that trouble at this time was an insult to his happiness and Sparta's. "Yes," said Dr. Gentian. He hesitated. "'Tis a long story. The gist of it's this. They say they've served their time for their lands, under our agreement. Now they want them." Andrew's mind reverted to his encounter with Caterina on that yesterday that seemed so distant. "The Minorcans will never have their lands now," she had said. "Well, sir--" he began judicially.