"Me!" said Jimmy. "Oh, I was a very good little boy. I hoisted the Union Jack, and stopped in my own house, and when any one tried the front door I fired at them out of the window. I don't think I hit anybody--I'm such a putrid shot with a revolver." "Well, you did your best," said Tony consolingly, "and that's all that really matters." Jimmy shook his head. "I used up a lot of cartridges," he objected, "and they cost no end of money out here. Besides I should like to have slaughtered just one Livadian. One doesn't often get the chance of doing such a good turn to humanity." "But how about the Revolution?" broke in Guy a trifle impatiently. "What happened after the fighting came to an end?" "Oh, the fighting didn't come to an end," returned Jimmy. "It was only the battle. People went on shooting each other privately all night, and next morning there was some sort of an attempt at another general engagement. It was nothing like Thursday, however, because both sides were running short of ammunition. However, I thought it seemed healthier indoors, so I stayed where I was until about three o'clock, when I suddenly noticed that the shooting was beginning to stop, and that the people were gathering together into groups and jawing and jabbering like a lot of monkeys. I guessed that something had happened, so I loaded up my revolver and shoved on a hat, and tootled out into the sunshine." He paused to select a cigar from the case which Tony was holding out to him. "Almost the first person I ran into," he went on, "was a man I happened to know. I asked him what was up, and he told me that there was a report all over the town that Pedro and Da Freitas had just arrived from England with Don Francisco's daughter, and that she and the King were going to be married at once. Well, of course, that put the hat on everything so to speak. Whatever Almaida's private notions may have been, he was nominally fighting to make this girl Queen of Livadia, and if she was really going to be married to Pedro, the whole thing was nothing but a damned farce." He coughed and turned to Molly. "Sorry, Padre," he added apologetically. "Forgot you were here." Molly inclined her head gravely, and once again Guy turned away to conceal his emotions. "Go on, James," said Tony in a reassuring voice. "You needn't be afraid of shocking Mr. Monk. He has been chaplain to a bishop."