There was great rejoicing when Stedman and Gordon told their
story to the King, and the people learned that they were not
to have their huts burned and their cattle stolen. The armed
Opekians formed a guard around the ambassadors and escorted
them to their homes with cheers and shouts, and the women ran
at their side and tried to kiss Gordon's hand.

"I'm sorry I can't speak the language, Stedman," said Gordon,
"or I would tell them what a brave man you are. You are too
modest to do it yourself, even if I dictated something for
you to say. As for me," he said, pulling off his uniform, "I
am thoroughly disgusted and disappointed. It never occurred to
me until it was all over that this was my chance to be a
war-correspondent. It wouldn't have been much of a war, but
then I would have been the only one on the spot, and that
counts for a great deal. Still, my time may come."

"We have a great deal on hand for to-morrow," said Gordon that
evening, "and we had better turn in early."

And so the people were still singing and rejoicing down in the
village when the two conspirators for the peace of the country
went to sleep for the night. It seemed to Gordon as though he
had hardly turned his pillow twice to get the coolest side
when someone touched him, and he saw, by the light of the
dozen glow-worms in the tumbler by his bedside, a tall figure
at its foot.

"It's me--Bradley," said the figure.