the night. "It looks as if we were getting ahead just a
little too fast, doesn't it? Well," he added, as they reached
the house, "let's try to keep in step with the procession,
even if we can't be drum-majors and walk in front of it." And
with this cheering tone of confidence in their ears, the two
diplomats went soundly asleep again.

The light of the rising sun filled the room, and the parrots
were chattering outside, when Bradley woke him again.

"They are sending a boat ashore, sir," he said, excitedly, and
filled with the importance of the occasion. "She's a German
man-of-war, and one of the new model. A beautiful boat, sir;
for her lines were laid in Glasgow, and I can tell that, no
matter what flag she flies. You had best be moving to meet
them: the village isn't awake yet."

Albert took a cold bath and dressed leisurely; then he made
Bradley, Jr., who had slept through it all, get up breakfast,
and the two young men ate it and drank their coffee
comfortably and with an air of confidence that deceived their
servants, if it did not deceive themselves. But when they
came down the path, smoking and swinging their sticks, and
turned into the plaza, their composure left them like a mask,
and they stopped where they stood. The plaza was enclosed by
the natives gathered in whispering groups, and depressed by
fear and wonder. On one side were crowded all the Messenwah
warriors, unarmed, and as silent and disturbed as the
Opekians. In the middle of the plaza some twenty sailors were
busy rearing and bracing a tall flag-staff that they had