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.