"The beef is salt?"

"It is very salt, Herr Doctor."

"And the compass?"

"It is ten degrees wrong."

"The boys have their orders?"

"They understand perfectly, Herr Doctor. If the Englishman does not
drink, they will take him at midnight to where His Excellency will be
encamped at the bend of the Blue River."

The doctor sighed. He was not at heart an unkindly man.

"I think," he murmured, "it will be better for the Englishman that he
drinks."



CHAPTER III

Mr. John Lambert Mangan of Lincoln's Inn gazed at the card which a
junior clerk had just presented in blank astonishment, an astonishment
which became speedily blended with dismay.

"Good God, do you see this, Harrison?" he exclaimed, passing it over
to his manager, with whom he had been in consultation. "Dominey--Sir