formed in line on the three sides of it, with the marines
facing the sea. The officers, from the captain with a
prayer-book in his hand, to the youngest middy, were as
indifferent to the frightened natives about them as the other
men had been. The natives, awed and afraid, crouched back
among their huts, the marines and the sailors kept their eyes
front, and the German captain opened his prayer-book. The debate
in the bungalow was over.

"If you only had your uniform, sir," said Bradley, Sr.,
miserably.

"This is a little bit too serious for uniforms and bicycle
medals," said Gordon. "And these men are used to gold lace."

He pushed his way through the natives, and stepped confidently
across the plaza. The youngest middy saw him coming, and
nudged the one next him with his elbow, and he nudged the
next, but none of the officers moved, because the captain had
begun to read.

"One minute, please," called Gordon.

He stepped out into the hollow square formed by the marines,
and raised his helmet to the captain.

"Do you speak English or French?" Gordon said in French; "I do
not understand German."

The captain lowered the book in his hands and gazed