"He was our consul-general at Marseilles!"

There was an uncomfortable moment. Even those denied imagination
could not escape the contrast, could see in their mind's eye the
great harbor of Marseilles, crowded with the shipping of the world,
surrounding it the beautiful city, the rival of Paris to the north,
and on the battleship the young consul-general making his bow to
the young Empress of Song. And now, before their actual eyes, they
saw the village of Porto Banos, a black streak in the night, a row
of mud shacks, at the end of the wharf a single lantern yellow in
the clear moonlight.

Later in the evening Miss Cairns led the admiral to one side.

"Admiral," she began eagerly, "tell me about your friend. Why is he
here? Why don't they give him a place worthy of him? I've seen many
of our representatives abroad, and I know we cannot afford to waste
men like that." The girl exclaimed indignantly: " He's one of the
most interesting men I've ever met! He's lived everywhere, known
every one. He's a distinguished man, a cultivated man; even I can
see he knows his work, that he's a diplomat, born, trained, that
he's----" The admiral interrupted with a growl.

"You don't have to tell ME about Henry," he protested. "I've known
Henry twenty-five years. If Henry got his deserts," he exclaimed
hotly, "he wouldn't be a consul on this coral reef; he'd be a
minister in Europe. Look at me! We're the same age. We started
together. When Lincoln sent him to Morocco as consul, he signed my
commission as a midshipman. Now I'm an admiral. Henry has twice my
brains and he's been a consul- general, and he's HERE, back at the