.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-

.. meta::
   :PG.Id: 43082
   :PG.Title: Stromboli and the Guns
   :PG.Released: 2013-07-02
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: Al Haines
   :DC.Creator: Francis Gribble
   :MARCREL.ill: Henry Austin
   :DC.Title: Stromboli and the Guns
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1904
   :coverpage: images/img-cover.jpg

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STROMBOLI AND THE GUNS
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   .. _`"A bullet splashed against the wall." (Page 191)`:

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      "A bullet splashed against the wall." (Page `191`_)

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      STROMBOLI
      AND THE GUNS.

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      BY

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      FRANCIS GRIBBLE.

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      AUTHOR OF "THE LOWER LIFE," "SUNLIGHT AND LIMELIGHT,"
      ETC., ETC.

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      *ILLUSTRATED BY HENRY AUSTIN.*

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      LONDON:
      WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED,
      NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE.
      1904.

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   CONTENTS.

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   `Stromboli and the Guns`_
   `The Short Shrift of the Filibuster`_
   `The Hunted Pole`_
   `The Counter Revolution`_
   `The Man with the Ultimatum`_
   `The Friend of the Policeman`_
   `The Secret Society`_
   `The Visit to the Holy Man`_

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   Illustrations

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`"'Yes, my comrades, it was I who made the revolution of 1848!'"`_

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`"'If you prefer not to sign, I am willing to renew the combat."'"`_

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`"'Strongboiler,' he said, 'You're a gentleman.'"`_

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`"I hurled the teacup at the foremost of them."`_

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`"I calmed them with a friendly gesture."`_

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`"'Is abdicate the same as git?' asked Colorado Charlie."`_

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`"We wrestled together on the floor."`_

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`"We walked together on the high, green hill."`_

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`"I assailed the door, first with a chair."`_

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`"As soon as my right foot was planted on the ground, I launched the
*coup de savate* with my left."`_

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`"'It was no time for argument.  I hurled my stool at the nearest
of them.'"`_

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.. _`STROMBOLI AND THE GUNS`:

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   STROMBOLI AND THE GUNS.

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It was in the old days, when a certain famous
anarchist club held its meetings in a house in
one of the dismal streets abutting on the
Tottenham Court Road.  An evening paper
had asked me to write an article about the
club.  An Italian waiter, whom the
proprietors of a West-End *café* were protecting
from the Milan police, introduced me to it
as his guest; and there, in an atmosphere
of pipes and lager-beer, I met Stromboli.
His full name, sprawling in true cosmopolitan
fashion over three languages, was Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski; but Stromboli
is as much of it as I have ever been able to
recall without a special effort of the memory.
He was old, white-haired, white-bearded,
with a furrowed brow only half hidden by
his broad-brimmed, unbrushed, soft felt hat.
He wore a coloured flannel shirt, with a
turn-down flannel collar, showing the strong line
of his throat.  Beneath bushy eyebrows his
eyes gleamed, keen and restless; and when
I first saw him he was the centre of a group
of younger revolutionists, whom he was
evidently entertaining with animated
reminiscences.  This was the scrap of his
talk that reached my ears through the hubbub—

"Yes, my comrades, it was I—*moi qui vous
parle*—who made the revolution of 1848!  It
is not in the histories, you tell me?  Then
so much the worse for the histories, I answer."

.. _`"'Yes, my comrades, it was I who made the revolution of 1848!'"`:

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   :alt: "'Yes, my comrades, it was I who made the revolution of 1848!'"

   "'Yes, my comrades, it was I who made the revolution of 1848!'"

One naturally desired the better
acquaintance of an old man who talked like that.
My Milanese friend presented me to him with
ceremony, as though he were introducing two
rival potentates.  I bowed low, with a due
sense of the honour done to me, and was
received with grave condescension; and then
I told Stromboli that I fancied that I had
heard his name before.

"In connection, if I am not mistaken," I
added, "with some revolutionary movement."

Stromboli's face lighted with a smile.

Whether it was a smile of vanity, or a smile
of scorn for the ignorance of the man who
was not quite sure whether he had ever
heard of him or not, I cannot altogether
determine; but there the smile was, and it
lasted through several sentences.

"It is not impossible," he said, "for I
have done things—aye, and I have suffered
things!  I have been condemned to death
by Spaniards at Santiago de Cuba!  I checked
the worst excesses of the Paris Commune!
And there are other stories.  The revolutions,
in short, have kept me very busy."

"You speak," I protested, "as though to
be a revolutionist were a calling, a profession,
a *métier*."

The last word seemed to please him; he
smiled again as he rolled it over on his tongue.

"*Un métier?  Je le crois bien*.  And why
not?  Is there no need for 'skilled labour'
in the making of a revolution?  No less, I
take it, than in the building of a battleship.
Why, yes, then, if you choose to put it so, I
am a revolutionist by *métier*."

"But still——"

The eyes flashed, and the smile changed its
character.

"A poor *métier*, do you think?  Then
think again.  It has its hazards?  Granted.
It is less safe than your *métier* of writing
for the newspapers?  Granted also.  But
at least it quickens the pulse and stirs the
blood.  At the end of it, if one is still alive,
one can at least boast that one has lived.
To have gambled with death in one's
youth—that is something worth remembering in
one's old age.  And I have gambled with
death wherever I could find a worthy stake
to play for.  If I should ever tell my
stories——"

But when a man talks in that way it
needs little pressure to get the stories told,
and I had not pursued my acquaintance
with Stromboli very far before the pressure
was applied.

"*Voyons!*" he said to me one day.  "I
have creditors; they ask for money, a thing
which I have had little leisure to amass.  If
there were a way of turning stories into
money!"

To his astonishment I answered that
with some stories, at all events, there was
a way; and he forthwith told me the
following, in order that the experiment
might be tried.  I give it in his own
words, and call it—

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THE GUNS OF THE DUC DE MONTPENSIER.

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"Let me begin at the beginning.

"Though I am an old man, you cannot
expect my memory to go further back than
1848.  But it was I who made the French
Revolution of that year.  Without me there
would have been a revolt; but it was thanks
to me—it was thanks to Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski—that the revolt
became a revolution.

"I was a young man in those days, twenty
years old, a student at the University of
Paris.  I was tall, with long black hair that
flowed over my collar; strong as though my
muscles were of whip-cord; a swordsman
who, at the *salle d'armes*, could as often as
not disarm the fencing master.  And when
I was not studying—which was often—I
talked politics in the *cafés* of the Latin
quarter.  There were those who said—behind
my back—that I talked nonsense.  They
would not have dared to say it to my face;
and they knew better afterwards.

"One of my comrades, however, seemed
to understand me better than the others.
His name was Jacques Durand; and he
came to me one day with a proposal.

"'Stromboli,' he whispered in my ear.
'You know that we're trying to get up a
revolution?'

"I nodded.

"'You ought to be one of us, Stromboli.
You ought to join the Society of the Friends
of Revolution.'

"'I never heard of that Society,' I answered.

"'That's because it's a secret society,'
Jacques explained.  'You can't expect to
hear about secret societies before you're
asked to join them.  The more secret they
are the better.  You can understand that,
can't you?'

"Of course I could understand that.

"'I was asked to get you into it,' Jacques
continued.  'A man like you——'

"One ought not, of course, to be susceptible
to that sort of flattery.  But one is as
one is made; and I had spoken in favour
of the revolution in the *cafés*.  So it was
agreed, and an appointment was arranged.

"'Next Sunday evening,' Jacques whispered.

"'Next Sunday evening,' I replied.

"And now picture me at this important
turning point of my career.  Observe me
guided by my comrade through many dark
and dangerous streets, where it seemed to
me that a man would carry his life in his
hands, unless he were, like myself, of
formidable appearance.  Our destination was a
cellar, underneath a *café*, and we reached it
by a flight of narrow, winding, slimy stairs.
Jacques gave the secret signal; three slow,
loud knocks upon the panel of the door, and
then the humming of two lines of the Carmagnole—

   |  'Vive le son
   |  Du canon.'

There was a rattling of chains, and then the
door was opened and we were admitted.

"'Sit down, comrade,' said one who
seemed to be the President, and I took the
place that had been kept vacant for me, and,
as my eyes became used to the gloom,
gradually surveyed the scene.

"There were some twenty of us, grouped
round a plain deal table.  Red flags were
draped upon the damp and dripping walls.
In the centre of the table was a skull, the
eyes serving as the sockets of two guttering
tallow candles, which were our only light.
The atmosphere was misty with tobacco
smoke.  But the strangest thing was that
almost all the comrades were personally
known to me.  All of them, like myself,
were students at the University of Paris;
and there was not a man among them whom
I had ever suspected of being an earnest
politician.

"But what of that?  'Still waters run
deep' is your English proverb, is it not?
This was, perhaps, an illustration of it.
Otherwise—if that were a rude student's
practical joke at the expense of the stranger
who had come among —— I said to myself,
'then they shall soon learn that revolution is
a subject upon which Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski does not jest.'

"But the voice of the President of the
Society interrupted me.

"'The new comrade,' he said, 'will now
take the oath to keep the secrets and obey
the orders of the Friends of Revolution, and
will drink to them in blood drawn from his
own veins.'

"And I did this, a vein in my hand being
opened with a penknife, and a drop let fall
from it into a tumbler of red wine; and the
business of the evening was proceeded with.
Once more it was the President who spoke:—

"'For the benefit of the new comrade I
explain the *raison d'être* of the Friends of
Revolution.  Our purpose is to pave the way
for a revolution by removing those who are
likely to be the chief obstacles to it when
it comes.  We choose the victim by ballot,
and then we choose the executioner by ballot,
so that injustice may be done to no one.  I
give no indications; it is not my place to
give any.  Some of you may think that
a prince of the blood royal, now in
Paris, holding high military command——  But
this is your affair, not mine;
the vote is secret.  Vote according to
your consciences.'

'We voted in solemn silence, using the
President's silk hat for a ballot-urn.  Seeing
that I paused to think, my neighbour
whispered a name into my ear.  The suggestion
pleased me, and I took it; and in due course
the President of the assembly shuffled the
papers and read them to us one by one.  It
was like this—

"'Montpensier, Montpensier, Montpensier,
Montpensier.  Comrades, the vote is
unanimous for citizen the Duc de Montpensier.'

"There were loud cheers, and then there
was a deadly silence.  Looking round and
seeing that the eyes of all were fixed intently
upon me, I understood clearly what was
coming next.  The victim having been
selected, they meant to choose me as his
executioner.  They thought that I should be
frightened, that I should draw back, that I
should give them the chance to laugh at me
for talking bombast in the *cafés*.  But they
did not know me; they did not know Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.

"'Comrades, I claim the work!' I cried,
leaping to my feet with vigour, and so making
my first appearance in any revolution.  'The
choice is good,' I continued, with impetuosity.
'There could be no greater obstacle to
revolution than a prince of the blood royal, who
is also the commanding officer of the
artillery, and would sweep the streets with his
cannon when the people rise.  But there is
no need of any further ballot.  A volunteer
is better than a pressed man at any time,
and I answer for Montpensier.  Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski undertakes to see to it
that Montpensier shall never turn his guns
upon the people.'

"It was the turning of the tables on the
jesters.  They had brought me to this
meeting-place, thinking first to terrify me by
assigning me this perilous task, and then to
laugh at me for my fears and my credulity
in supposing that they were in earnest; and,
lo! I had stood up and made them real
conspirators against their will.  It was their
faces, instead of mine, that were now pale
with terror; and their efforts to wriggle out
of the responsibilities to which I had
committed them were laughable.

"'It is well,' said the President; 'but a
committee must now be constituted to consult
with the comrade Stromboli concerning ways
and means.'  Which meant, of course, a
committee to break it to me gently that the
Friends of Revolution had made a fool of
me.  I repudiated the proposal with all my
indignation.

"'M. le President,' I said, 'I will ask for
a committee to advise me when I need advice.
It was because I did not feel the need of it
that I offered to execute the task.  I have
my plan, which I do not disclose.  Within a
fortnight you shall know for certain that the
Duc de Montpensier will never turn his guns
upon the people.  In the meantime, drink to
my enterprise, and then hold your peace
about it.'

"Had I convinced them?  Or had the
power of my eye laid them under a spell?
Or had my earnestness made them ashamed?
I cannot say for certain.  All that I know
is that they rose to their feet and pledged
me in the wine-cup, the toast being—

"'To the comrade who will remove Montpensier!'

"But I corrected them.

"'Drink, rather,' I said, 'to the comrade
who answers for Montpensier.'  And they drank.

"And now you think, perhaps, that I had
some dark design to be executed with dagger,
with pistol, or with poison.  Perish the
thought!  I am not that kind of revolutionist.
On the contrary, it has always been my aim
to raise the tone of revolution by employing
*finesse* instead of violence, wherever possible.
And this time it seemed to me that *finesse*
could be employed, that I could persuade the
Duc de Montpensier to do my bidding, if
only I could get speech with him upon a
suitable occasion.

"The difficulty was, of course, to find a
suitable occasion, to manage to meet the
prince at some time when he was amusing
himself *incognito* and unattended by his suite.
All princes do these things, and it is not
necessary to belong to the secret police to
find out when and where.  I asked Clarisse,
about whom I need only tell you that she
was beautiful, and that she loved me.  Ah,
dear Clarisse!  But this is no place for
sentimental memories.

"'I should not wonder,' Clarisse said, 'if
he were to be at the next masked ball at the
Closerie des Lilas.'

"'Eh! what?' I interrupted.  'A royal
prince at a masked ball among the students?'

"'And why not, seeing that he will be
masked, and no one will ever know of it who
is not told?'

"There was reason in that: but a further
difficulty presented itself.

"'His being there is little use to me if I
cannot recognise him,' I said.

"'Perhaps I could help you,' Clarisse answered.

"'You know him, then?'

"'He does not know that I know him,'
she replied.

"'But he has spoken to you?'

"She nodded laughing.

"'And would again?'

"'Perhaps?'

"'And if I were there, and watching, you
would make a sign to me?'

"'I might even do that, if you were to
ask me nicely.'

"So Clarisse was enlisted as my ally,
though without being taken into my confidence;
and I felt sure that with her help I
should be able to carry out the plan that I
had made.

"'We may quarrel about you, Clarisse,'
was all I told her; and at that she laughed
and clapped her hands.

"'That will be beautiful!' she said;
for to be quarrelled about is a joy to
all women when they are young and
beautiful.

"Then I made other arrangements, and
told my friend Jacques Durand that I should
want him with me on that night.

"'You will render me,' I said, 'the help
that circumstances suggest; but more than
that I shall not tell you.'

"For a secret is not a secret any longer,
when more than one man knows it.  Time
enough that Jacques should know my secret
when the days had passed, and the night of
the masked ball arrived.

"It came before the week was out, and
there can be little need for me to tell you
what it looked like.  You may still see the
same thing at any time in Paris, when the
students are keeping carnival.

"A vast room with a polished floor, and
galleries running round it, where they served
refreshments; a profusion of gaily-coloured
lamps suspended from the ceiling; a string
band that played the tunes that set your
feet dancing whether you would or no; a
mob of men and girls all gaily and fantastically
attired—a goodly proportion of them in
masks and dominoes, and all of them, or
nearly all, uproarious in their behaviour.
Such was the scene through which I strode,
in the garb of Mephistopheles, to answer for
Montpensier.

"Jacques followed close behind me in the
costume of a mediæval jester—a costume
which, I allow, was scarcely appropriate to
the occasion.  But I had no time to think
of that; for Clarisse, dressed as the Queen
of Sheba, was already beckoning to me.

"'Keep near,' she whispered.  'When the
time comes, I will hold up two fingers to you, thus.'

"So I kept near, and saw man after man
come up, and speak to her, and go away
again.  My patience was sorely tried; and I
began to think that she had led me on a
vain chance, after all.  My eyes had begun
to wander about the room when Jacques
recalled my attention, saying—

"'Look there, Stromboli! look!'

"I looked.  A tall figure, in the guise of
a Spanish Inquisitor, masked beyond all
possibility of recognition, was bending down
and talking to Clarisse.  Her eyes caught
mine, and she lifted her two fingers, giving
the preconcerted signal.  The hour had come.

"'Now, Jacques,' I whispered, 'I rely on
you.  Support me in this, and you shall see
how revolutions can be helped upon their
way by unexpected means.'

"'But what——'

"'Wait,' I interrupted.  'The time for
explanations will come afterwards.  Now is
the time to act.'

"And so saying, I stepped forward and
slapped my Spanish Inquisitor violently on
the back.

"'What is the meaning of this, sir?' I
cried angrily.  'What do you mean by
insulting a lady who is here under my escort?'

"At first I thought he would have tried
to strike me; but, with an effort, he
restrained himself.

"'You make a mistake, sir,' he answered.
'I do not think the lady complains of having
been insulted.  If she does, I am quite ready
to apologise to her.'

"He looked at her, as though appealing
to her to say something to save the situation,
and I doubt not that, being frightened,
she would have said it, had I not made
haste to speak again before she had time
to do so.

"'You will apologise?  Well and good,
sir, provided that you apologise to me as
well as to Madame.  But an apology from a
masked man is an apology that one does not
accept.  Take off your mask, or I shall take
it off for you, and insist upon satisfaction
for this insult.'

"But to unmask was, of course, the one
thing that he would not do—that was what
I had foreseen when I had laid this plan.
And the next thing that I heard was the
voice of another masked man—some courtier
evidently—whispering in my ear—

"'Don't make a fool of yourself.  You're
talking to the Duc de Montpensier.  It
mustn't be known that he was here.'

"I had expected something of that sort,
however, and was ready with my reply.

"'I don't believe you,' I said, with dignity.
'It is no use to romance like that with Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.  The story
is the lie of a coward who dares not face the
consequences of his misbehaviour.'

"Again the man approached and whispered—

"'If money is what you want to stop this row—'

"They were in such a quandary, you see,
that they were ready to bribe me not to
expose them.  But I was a revolutionist,
not a blackmailer, and this fear of exposure,
thus candidly confessed, was the thing that
I had relied upon to help me to my end.  I
took no notice of the offer, but turned again
to my other masked antagonist, saying—

"'I give you your choice, sir, to unmask
and apologise, or to give me satisfaction this
very evening.  I undertake to provide the
place and the weapons.  An affair of honour
can be settled as well by candlelight as by
daylight, and you are quite welcome to fight
me with your mask on if you prefer it.'

"He was a brave man—I will do him
that justice—and I had pushed him into a
very awkward corner.  For a minute or two
he conferred in hasty whispers with his friend,
and, without troubling to listen, I overheard
fragments of their colloquy.

"'Mustn't let all Paris ring with this.'

"'Anything to avoid a scandal.'

"'Only an affair of five minutes.'

"'Teach the noisy braggart the lesson he deserves.'

"Then, when I thought the conference had
lasted long enough—

"'Your decision, sir?' I demanded.

"It was the masked friend who answered,
speaking very quietly—

"'Provided that we can get away from
here without being followed by a crowd, we
are at your service.'

"'That is easy,' said I, in the same tone.
'We have only to behave as though we were
reconciled, and sit together for a minute at
one of these refreshment tables.'

"'It was agreed.  The crowd took no
further notice of us, for little disturbances
of that kind were usual enough at the Closerie
des Lilas.  Five minutes later the four of us
were seated together in a carriage, driving to
the house in which I had hired a room in
readiness for this affair—a long, empty room
above a shop that was for the moment without a tenant.

"The duelling-swords were there, the blinds
were drawn, and the shutters closed, and a
sufficiency of candles stood ready to be
lighted; but one more desperate effort was
made to keep the peace.

"'If my friend is willing to unmask here——'

"'He can unmask or not, as he likes,' I
directed Jacques to answer; 'but I shall
expect him to fight in any case.'

"'That is absolutely final?'

"'Absolutely.'

"'Very well.  It is an unpleasant business.
Let us make haste and get it over.'

"So lots were drawn for stations and for
weapons.  The lights were arranged, so far
as possible, so as to favour neither of us.
Still wearing our masks, but stripped of
every trimming of our fancy costumes which
could hinder the freedom of our movement,
we advanced to the centre of the floor.

"The toss of the coin had given Jacques
the direction of the combat.  He made us
cross our blades at the usual distance from
each other, and gave the usual signal—

"'*Allez, messieurs!*"

"My antagonist could fence well.  It was,
no doubt, because of his skill with the
small-sword that he had consented to this meeting.
He meant to make it clear to me that he
had spared my life, and then trust to my
gratitude and my sense of honour to keep
his secret.  But though he was a good
fencer, Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski
was a better.

"You know the trick of fence which the
French call *enlacer le fer*.  After a cautious
pass or two, I tried that, with the result that
I whirled my opponent's sword out of his hand.

"'Try again, sir, when you are ready,' I
said, lowering my point.

"He tried again, fighting more viciously
this time, but with no more effect.  Again
he found himself in one corner of the room
and his weapon in another.

"'Perhaps, sir, Fortune will be kinder to
you the third time,' I suggested; and for
the third time he advanced and faced me.

"This time I played with him longer.  I
took the *ligne basse*, which is always fatal,
and withheld my lunge at the moment when
he saw clearly, that, if I had chosen, I could
have run him through.  Not until nearly
two minutes had elapsed did I give the quick
turn of my wrist which disarmed him as before.

"Then I felt that I had sufficiently proved
myself, and that the moment for my great
*coup* had come.

"'Sir,' I said, bowing courteously to this
proud prince, 'I honour you for your courage
in this encounter with one who has the
advantage over you in point of strength and
skill.  I could have unmasked you, or I
could have killed you.  Your life and your
reputation have been equally at my mercy;
and now I am willing to make you a free
gift of both, on one condition.'

"The answer was brave enough.

"'I have asked no favour from you, sir.'

"'It is an easy condition, sir,' I continued,
'or I would not affront you by proposing it.
I only ask your promise that, whatever may
happen, whatever the provocation, you, as
commander of the artillery, will never cause
a gun to be fired upon the people of Paris.'

"He laughed.  I imagine he thought he
was dealing with a lunatic.

"'Is that all?' he said.  'I promise
gladly.  Nothing could be further from my
wish than to use the guns of the French
artillery against Frenchmen.  Shall we now
say "Good evening"?'

"He was going, but I stopped him.

"'Stay,' I said; 'it is necessary that I
should have that in writing.'

"'My word, then,' he objected, 'is not
enough for you?'

"'It is enough for me,' I answered; 'but
I must have something to show to my friends
in proof that I have executed the task which
they entrusted to me.  Here is the document
to which I desire your signature.'

"I produced the slip of paper.  These
were the words upon it—

.. vspace:: 1

"'*I, Louis Charles, Duc de Montpensier,
in consideration of my life having been spared
in fair fight by Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski, do hereby engage that in no
event—not even in the event of revolution—will
I, as commander of the artillery, cause
or permit the cannon to be used against the
people.*"

"'*As witness my hand.*'

.. vspace:: 1

"'Now, M. le Duc,' I said, as I handed it
to him, 'if you will sign this document, I
pledge my word of honour that the world
shall know nothing of it so long as you are
faithful to the undertaking which it
expresses.  On the other hand, if you prefer
not to sign it, I am willing to renew the
combat.'

.. _`"'If you prefer not to sign, I am willing to renew the combat."'"`:

.. figure:: images/img-030.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "'If you prefer not to sign, I am willing to renew the combat."'"

   "'If you prefer not to sign, I am willing to renew the combat."'"

"Yet again the prince stepped aside to
confer with his companion.  I caught odd
words and phrases of their conversation—'Dangerous
madman.'  'Official denial.'  'Only
way out of it.'  'Avoid a scandal at
all hazards.'  But I affected not to hear,
and waited.

"'Well, M. le Duc?' I said at last.

"He laughed again.

"'Well, well, suppose I sign?  You have
pen and ink there?  Thank you.  Even in
the event of revolution?  How ridiculous!
As if there were any chance of another
revolution in this country?'

"'Nevertheless, M. le Duc,' I answered,
watching him as he wrote his name, and as
both his masked friend and Jacques Durand
witnessed the signature—'nevertheless, M. le
Duc, the wise man is he who is prepared for
all emergencies.'

.. vspace:: 1

.. class:: center white-space-pre-line

   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

.. vspace:: 1

"'We saluted ceremoniously, and drove
away, this time in separate carriages; and
most of what remains of my story is in the
history books.  All the world knows that the
revolution came, as I anticipated, bursting
like a thunderclap in a clear sky.  All the
world knows that King Louis Phillipe drove
away from the Tuileries in a cab, and
travelled to England under the *alias* of
'Mr. Smith,' hoping, as he explained, to pass as
the head of the English family of that name.
But just one new thing I can tell you—a
thing that I learnt afterwards from one of
the royal servants, a maid who waited upon
the Duchesse de Montpensier and became
a good Republican after the dynasty had fallen.

"'Ah, that scene!' she said to me.  'That
terrible scene!  Never shall I forget it!'

"'What scene, Babette?' I asked her.

"'What scene?' she repeated, and then
described it to me.

"'It was on that dreadful morning when
the news came to us that Paris had, as we
said, gone mad, and the people were on their
way from Saint Antoine to batter down the
palace gates.  I was alone with the Duchess,
who was crying.  I was trying to console
her, telling her that the police would soon
take all the wicked rioters to prison; and
as I did this the door opened, and who
should enter, unannounced, but Queen Marie
Amélie herself.  Ah, she was a woman
of spirit, though she was old, was Queen
Marie Amélie!

"'"Where is Montpensier?" she asked,
without a word of greeting.

"'It was no time for idle forms of
etiquette, so the Duchess stepped to the other
door of her boudoir and called down the
passage, just as any common woman might.

"'A minute later M. le Duc entered.  He
was dressed as though for a journey, and his
face was pale—I do not think I ever saw a
paler face.  Ignoring my presence, the Queen
broke out into reproaches.

"'"Montpensier!  For shame, Montpensier!
Your father's throne in peril, and you
strike no blow for it!"

"'If possible, his pallor deepened.  Even
a girl, as I was, could see that there was
some struggle, which I did not understand,
proceeding in his mind.

"'"What would you have me do, my
mother?"' he asked, trembling before her.

"'"What to do?" she repeated.  "Was
it for this, then, that you were given the
command of the artillery—that you should
tell us in the day of trouble that you don't
know what to do?  For shame, Montpensier!
And, once more, for shame!  Can't you
bring out your guns and shoot this rabble
down?  Better to die at your post——"

"'He answered, "Anything is better, my
mother, than that the French guns should
be turned on the French people.'

"'"And to think that it is my own son
who speaks thus to me!  To think that I
have lived to learn that I am the mother
of a coward!"

"'It was clear that the taunt stung him
to the quick.  I thought that it must move
him to take up the challenge and offer to
risk his life against any odds.  But no; he
stood his ground and answered, with a cold,
impassive stare—

"'"My mother, if I told you that I have
given my plighted word to act as I am acting,
you would not believe me; but so it is.
Some day, it may be, you will know the
truth.  In the meantime I would rather be
thought a coward than know myself to be a liar."

"'"Yes, Montpensier, you are a coward!
Coward—coward!" she hissed, and turned
upon her heel and left him.

"'And he was a coward, wasn't he?'
Babette commented.  'Even a Republican
like you must think of him as a coward.'

"'No, no, Babette,' I answered; 'he was
no coward.  He was an honourable man who
faithfully kept the pledge that had been
extracted from him by Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski.'

"And then, in answer to her questions, I
told her as much of the truth as it was good
for her to know, and also described to her
the last scene of all in this remarkable adventure.

"I now come to it.  Observe!

"The populace, as you know, besieged the
Tuileries, and the king and the royal family
drove away in cabs.  I was in the crowd,
and as the Duc de Montpensier came out of
the gate, I advanced a step or two to speak
to him.

"'M. le Duc,' I said, "you are an honourable
man, and you have kept your word.
You did not use your guns against the people.
Good.  Accept my congratulations, and let
me return to you the written undertaking
which you gave me, in order that you may
use it, if need be, to rehabilitate your
reputation with your friends.'

"'I thank you, sir,' he answered, bowing
gravely, as he took the paper from me.  'I
now understand that a revolutionist may also
be a man of honour.'

"He whipped up the horses and drove off,
and I have never seen him since.  But now
you know how I made my first appearance in
any revolution, and what was my meaning
when I said that it was I who brought about
the overthrow of the Orleanists in 1848."





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE SHORT SHRIFT OF THE FILIBUSTER`:

.. class:: center large

   THE SHORT SHRIFT OF THE FILIBUSTER.

.. vspace:: 2

"Voyons!" said Stromboli, as he caught
me coming out of the gate of Lincoln's Inn,
clutched me by the arm, and drew me into
the Chancery Lane Bodega.  "On the
proceeds of my former story I have dined—dined
sumptuously—dined several times.
Think of it!  Several dinners for one story!
It is an advantage over the plutocracy and
the *bourgeoisie* at which my heart rejoices."

"But how about the creditors?" I inquired,
as we settled down at a small table
in a corner.

Stromboli lit his large pipe meditatively.

"The creditors!  Precisely.  That is the
weak point in my position.  The great
happiness of having money to spend caused
me to forget them.  Nevertheless, they still
exist, and now that the money is gone they
write, recalling themselves to my recollection.
It is unfortunate.  For it seems that, even
in this free country of yours, the law gives
them the power to make themselves unpleasant."

I assented, and tried to explain to him the
exact nature of a judgment summons, and a
committal order.  Then I continued—

"But you know other stories, I suppose?"

Stromboli banged the table and made the
glasses ring, as he answered, half in derision,
half in indignation—

"If I know other stories!  He asks if I
know other stories.  When I tell you that
I—*moi qui vous parle*—have lain under
sentence of death in a Spanish prison at Santiago
de Cuba, and escaped from it under
circumstances which will not occur again——"

"That sounds all right," I interrupted.

"You really think so?"

"I am quite sure of it."

"Then I must make haste.  The letters
of the creditors begin, 'Unless——'  There
is evidently no time to be lost."

"There is no time like the present," I
rejoined.

"Let us begin, then.  And, since more
money is in sight, there is no reason why I
should not spend the little money that
remains to me.  You shall drink champagne
with me, and we will smoke cigars."

And then and there, in the corner of the
Bodega, while the men about us talked of the
business of the Law Courts, and of the price
of shares, Stromboli wafted me, in imagination,
to the shores of the Pearl of the Antilles,
and told me the story which I entitled—

.. vspace:: 1

.. class:: center

THE SHORT SHRIFT OF THE FILIBUSTER.

.. vspace:: 1

"*Voyons*!  Filibustering is an important
branch of revolution.  Though your motives
be of the loftiest, yet, if the other side catch
you at it, they will shoot you.  The danger
is the greater because you are generally on
the weaker side, and therefore likely to be
caught.  It is a quick gamble for the heaviest
of stakes.  I know, for I have played the
game.  I have been a filibuster.

"It was in Cuba in the early seventies.
The island was in revolt, and help was being
sent to the rebels by the brave citizens of the
United States.  And one day, as I sipped
my absinthe in the Café de Madrid, I was
handed a telegram from New York, which
ran as follows—

"'Offer you commission in Cuban Army.
Start at once; begin as general.  Rapid
promotion if found satisfactory.'

"I thumped the table and showed the
despatch to my companion.

"'To begin as general!' I cried.  'Is
this a pleasantry at my expense, or is it not?'

"My companion, who was a man who had
travelled widely, assured me that it was not.

"'You think,' I asked, 'that no Cuban
would dare to venture upon a pleasantry with
Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski?'

"'I am quite sure,' he answered, 'that no
Cuban would spend the cost of this
cablegram in doing so.'

"'Ah!'

"'Besides, you must remember that in
Central American armies there is no lower
commissioned rank than that of general.
You are invited to begin, like other people,
at the bottom of the ladder.'

"'In that case, my friend, it is not a
pleasantry, but an affront.  Or is it that they are
afraid of exciting the jealousy of the other
generals, I wonder?  I must reflect.'

"I reflected in silence for at least two
minutes.  Then, having made up my mind,
I asked my friend—

"'Do you happen to know what uniform is
required by a general in the Cuban service?'

"'In the Central American armies,' my
friend answered, 'every general wears the
uniform that suits him best.'

"'And do you know when the next boat
starts for New York?'

"'In exactly forty-eight hours from now.'

"'In that case there is no time to be lost.
I will drive to the tailor's and select a uniform
at once.'

"With such celerity did I form my plans.
The uniform reached me just in time, neatly
packed in a tin box, with my name painted on
it.  I dressed myself in it for the first time
when I had crossed the Atlantic, and
proceeded to report myself to the Cuban Junta
at New York.  It was an imposing
uniform,—scarlet and gold lace, with a cocked hat
and flaunting plumes.  It caused no little
admiration when, failing to find a more
suitable conveyance, I rode to my destination on
a tramcar.  I doubt not that it would have
made an even greater impression than it did
if the Cuban Junta had not happened, at the
moment of my call, to be represented by a
Yankee.

"'Great snakes alive!' was that gentleman's
first exclamation, to which I replied
with dignity—

"'You are mistaken, sir.  I am the new
Cuban general—Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"At this he extended his hand to me
cordially, continuing in the quaint language
of the United States—

"'Glad to see you, General.  Proud to
make your acquaintance, sir.  Reckon you're
going to knock the sawdust out of those
durned Spaniards presently.  But, in the
meantime, if you're in a position to put up
the greenbacks, hadn't you better buy a
store suit to go on with?  Your present
outfit, though very striking, is better adapted
for dictating terms of peace upon the field
of carnage than for the requirements of
everyday life in New York City—the more so as
there is no purpose to be served by showing
our plans under the nose of the U.S. Government.'

"He was evidently a practical man—nearly
all Americans are practical men—and
I agreed with him that it would be easier to
keep a secret in a store suit than in a uniform.
It was in my store suit, therefore, that I went
down according to his directions, to secure
my passage to Cuba on board the paddle-steamer
*Washington*.  And here, once again,
I found myself face to face with a practical
American.

"'What is your name, sir?' he inquired,
when I asked that a cabin should be retained
for me, and I told him.

"'It is a name that you should know,' I
said.  'I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"He did not seem to know me.  This time,
I imagine, it was my store suit that operated
to my disadvantage.  He answered me in the
usual vernacular—

"'Seems, stranger, that's more name than
there is room for in the space provided.
Reckon if I enter you on this ship's books as
John A. Strongboiler, that's name enough for
you to sail under.  Then, in case of accidents,
you can say you're an American citizen,
trading in cigars, and claim the protection
of the Stars and Stripes.'

"He was evidently a thoroughly practical
man.  As a rule, it may be undignified for a
general officer to disguise himself as a cigar
merchant.  But circumstances alter cases,
and the circumstances were exceptional.  So
I consented, and the American shook me by
the hand, saying—

"'Right, General.  John A. Strongboiler
doesn't need learning by heart, like the other
name.  And now, to show that no offence is
taken, kindly name your poison.'

"So we pledged each other in a curiously
concocted beverage, with plenty of powdered
ice in it; and thus it was, as you see, under
the strange style of John A. Strongboiler,
dealer in cigars, that I sailed from New
York City in the paddle-steamer *Washington*
(Captain Jonathan K. Jenkins), to take up
my position as a general in the Cuban Army.
If I could only have foreseen!  But I must
not anticipate.

"We touched at Kingston, Jamaica, where
we took aboard a cargo of various munitions
of war, together with a number of fresh
passengers—brave men, who, like myself, had
enlisted as generals in the Cuban service.  I
invited them all to drink with me, and they
did so, for it is the custom of the country.
For the rest, the voyage was uneventful until
the hour when our terrible catastrophe began.

"It was early, and I had left my berth to
pace the deck and enjoy the fresh coolness
of the morning air.  Captain Jonathan
K. Jenkins was there also.  Through his
telescope he was intently observing the
movements of some craft which he
evidently regarded with suspicion.  Finally
he closed the glass with a bang and said
laconically—

"'Wal, I'm durned!'

"'What is it, Captain?' I asked, and he
replied, in the American language—

"'That's a Spaniard, or I'm a Dutchman.
And looking out for us.  And meaning
mischief.  Guess, if we don't make tracks,
it'll be a bad look out for all you generals.'

"'Would you like me to call a council of
war, Captain?' I suggested.  'The other
generals are still asleep, but——'

"He answered curtly—

"'Council of war be durned!  Reckon
I'm the captain of this ship, any way, and
what I say goes.'

"And with that he shouted orders right
and left, and altered the ship's course, and
the long chase began.

"Shall I describe it?  That, surely, is
hardly necessary.  One chase at sea is very
like another.  Only in this chase there were
one or two moments that have specially
branded themselves upon my memory.

"For hours our pursuer had gained upon
us, but so slowly that we were hardly aware
of his approach, and were confident of
reaching a British port in safety.  Then came the
engineer with the terrible message—

"'Sorry, Captain, but we're just about
through with the coal.'

"Never shall I forget the quick energy
with which Captain Jonathan K. Jenkins
confronted the emergency.  He hardly
seemed to be excited.

"'Wal,' he said.  'Ain't there other things
that'll burn besides coal.  Ain't there oil?
Ain't there hams and bacon?  Ain't there
chairs and tables?  Fling 'em in.  Fling the
durned ship herself into the furnaces sooner
than let the engines stop.'

"We did it.  I myself—Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski—worked like a
common sailor, tearing up the planks and
hewing down the bulwarks to supply the
flames with fuel.  Others, meanwhile, were
busy lightening up the ship by heaving cargo
overboard.  Even the horses that we carried
with us had to be thrown into the water.
My heart bled for those poor horses as I saw
their struggles; for, after all, it was a useless
sacrifice.  The Spaniard gained on us
continually as we neared the Jamaica coast.
Shots crossed our bows, warning us to
surrender or be sunk.

"Then it was that a sudden uproar arose
among the sailors.

"''Tain't the horses the Spaniards want.
It's the Dagos.  Fling them out a few Dagos
and they'll stop worriting fast enough.'

"It was one of those chances that a man
gets now and then of showing the metal that
he is made of.  The Cubans had drawn their
knives; the crew were ready to rush upon
them with oars and marling-spikes and every
other handy weapon; Captain Jenkins had
cocked his revolver and was prepared to
shoot.  I saw my opportunity and stepped
forward to calm the tumult.

"'Captain,' I said, 'let there be no question
of throwing me overboard.  If you think
that I can save your ship by jumping
overboard, you have only to say the word and
I'll do it.'

"Still overawing the mutinous sailors with
the pistol, the captain gripped me by the hand.

"'Strongboiler,' he said, 'you're a gentleman,
though Dagos don't run to it as a rule.
But we don't do these things on board
American vessels.  We sink or swim together.'

.. _`"'Strongboiler,' he said, 'You're a gentleman.'"`:

.. figure:: images/img-048.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "'Strongboiler,' he said, 'You're a gentleman.'"

   "'Strongboiler,' he said, 'You're a gentleman.'"

"And with that he gave the order to heave
to, and the Spaniards boarded us.  The
captain greeted them with violent language.

"'What the blazes!  These are British
waters, ain't they?  Jamaica three-mile
limit.  And this is the United States trading
steamer, *Washington*, cleared from Kingston,
Jamaica, for San Domingo.  If you've got
your doubts about it, look at the ship's
papers and be durned!'

"'You can show your papers to the
Governor, when you get to Santiago de
Cuba,' was the Spanish officer's reply.  'In
the meantime, you are my prisoners, and
it's there that I'm going to take you.'

"He disarmed us all and put a prize crew
on board; and the Spanish gunboat *Tornado*
took the trading steamer *Washington* in tow,
and headed straight for Santiago Harbour.

"Santiago de Cuba!  To think that one
of the loveliest spots upon God's earth should
be given over to the abominations of these
butchers!

"It was just at sunrise, on one of the
loveliest mornings that I have ever known, that
we made our way slowly through the narrow
entrance to the bay.  On either side of us
low ridges of rolling hills, crowned with dark
woods and verdant meadows; the bright
plumage of tropical birds glancing among
the trees where we hugged the shore beside
the forest; here and there in the distant
uplands the white walls of some country
house, with the blue smoke rising like
incense, untroubled by any breath of air.  A
scene of greater peacefulness could hardly be,
save for the blue fins of the sharks that
followed us, as though aware that we were
journeying to our doom.

"Yet I held my head high in spite of
all.  Something might always happen; some
chance might always show itself to the man
who gave his whole mind to watching for it.
Your true gambler with Death never loses
hope until the hour actually comes when he
must pay the forfeit.

"It seemed, however, that that hour was
very near and quite inevitable.  A message
was conveyed to us.

"'A court-martial, for the trial of the
prisoners, will sit at noon, in the *Tornado*,
under the presidency of General Burriel,
Governor of Santiago.'  And you know
what a Spanish court-martial is!  It is the
modern form of the Spanish Inquisition.  Its
purpose is not to judge, but to condemn.
So that I had little hope of justice and less
of mercy when my turn came to be haled
before it.  Only of one thing I was resolved.'

"'At least,' I said to myself, 'I will hold
my head high.  At least I will not beg for pity.'

"My turn came.

"Informal, but ferocious; that is how I
must describe the court that sat in judgment
over me.  A pleasant awning was hung upon
the deck.  A table, with pens, ink, and paper
upon it, was set for the president of the court.
The other officers composing it lounged
around, in a semicircle, in comfortable chairs.
They drank and smoked cigarettes, and
laughed gaily together, as though the
sentencing of men to death were the most
agreeable diversion that they knew.  And I
stood before them, handcuffed and guarded
by marines.

"'What do you say that your name is?'
was the first question put to me, and my
answer was defiant.

"'It is a name that you know well enough.
I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"For I had forgotten.  The president had
a list of the crew and passengers in front of
him, and desired me to find my name in it.
As well as my fetters would let me, I pointed,
and then, when it was too late, I perceived
the blunder that I had made.

"A grim and cruel smile appeared upon
General Burriel's face.  From the paper in
front of him he read aloud the words—

"'John A. Strongboiler, dealer in cigars.'
Then he pointed to me, and to the tin box,
with 'Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski'
painted on it, which lay upon the deck with
other *pièces de conviction*, ready to be used
when needed.  Then he spoke slowly, with a
bitter ring in his lines—

"'Untie the prisoner and let him open the
box.  Without doubt it is his cigar-box.  If
it is found to contain enough cigars to give
the members of this court one hundred each,
I undertake that the prisoner shall be acquitted.'

"Well, I have no surprise in store for you.
You know quite well what was in the box.
Under the bayonets of the marines I
unpacked it defiantly; and as each article came
forth—the cocked hat, the heavy boots, the
scarlet tunic, the pipe-clayed breeches—the
deck of the *Tornado* literally shook with
shrieks of laughter.  Yes, for the first and
last time in my life, I, Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski was laughed at to my face.

"Perhaps for an instant the thought crossed
my mind that these men would be merciful to
me because I had afforded them amusement.
If so, it was a thought that was dispelled
with great rapidity.  The members of the
court-martial conferred aloud, with mocking
laughter.

"'A man who travels under a false name——'

"'Talks Spanish——'

"'Says that he is an American——'

"'Though apparently a Pole——'

"'And carries a uniform about with him
in a box——'

"'Which he pretends is a cigar box——'

"'Is a very interesting scoundrel——'

"'But none the less unfit to live!'

"And General Burriel summed the matter
up and delivered formal sentence.

"'Prisoner, the sentence of the court upon
you is that you be shot at dawn.  Marines,
remove the prisoner.'

"They proceeded to remove me; but before
I had left the ship he called me back again.

"'Prisoner,' he said gravely, 'in consideration
of the fact that you have amused the
court, the court has decided upon a mitigation
of your sentence.'  Hope flattered me
again, but only for an instant.  The president
continued with an evil chuckle—

"'Prisoner, the court accords you permission
to put on your uniform and wear it
until the hour of your execution.'

"Once more there was an outburst of
uproarious merriment.  My military judges
held their sides in their hilarity, while the
marines marched me away through jeering
crowds to lodge me in the Santiago prison.
They insolently made me dress myself in my
uniform in their presence, and then they
locked the door of my cell and left me to my
reflections.

"My reflections!  You may guess that these
were not agreeable.  Since American protection
had failed me, my one hope was that, by some
means or other, I might get on board the
British gunboat that was lying at anchor in
the harbour, and, as I had been captured in
British waters, claim the protection of the
Union Jack.  But how to get there?  That
was, indeed, a problem that needed thinking out.

"Sitting for a space with my head buried
in my hands, I thought it out in all its
bearings.  Presently I saw my way—or thought
I saw it—and my courage and high spirits
returned to me.  Though I had to use a
subterfuge, I would not be humble.

"I stood upon the stool, which was my
only article of furniture, bringing my face
level with the window through which my cell
communicated with the passage, and called—

"'Gaoler!  Come here, gaoler!  I want
you, gaoler!'

"I am aware that I spoke in the same
commanding tone in which I should have
summoned the boots or the waiter at an hotel.
I could not help it.  It is a way that I have
always had, and a way that I have generally
found answer.  It answered in this case.
The man came, growling.

"'What is the meaning of this, gaoler?'
I asked curtly.

"'What is the meaning of what?' he
retorted roughly.

"'Of this, gaoler—that I, a prisoner
condemned to be shot at dawn, have not yet
received a visit from any spiritual adviser?
Even in Spain, I believe, a prisoner
condemned to die has a right to spiritual
consolation.'  My speech, I daresay, sounded
more like a reprimand than a request; but
it made none the less impression upon that
account.  Why should it have?  In all
situations in life the way to secure deference
is to be peremptory.  My severity compelled
politeness.

"'Of course, if his Excellency desires to
see a priest——'

"'Certainly, gaoler,' I answered.  'Certainly
I want to see a priest.  And the
sooner the better.  Be so good as to
tell one of the priests to step this way
at once.'

"He had already started, when I called
him back.

"'And, look here, gaoler, I'm very particular
about priests.  I can't accept consolation
from a little priest.  I must have a big one.'

"The gaoler stared at me, evidently
believing that I was mad.  But there was
method in my madness, as you will see.  I
added, producing some notes from a pocket
which, in their merriment over my uniform,
the Spaniards had quite forgotten to search—

"'You see, my man, I'm in a position to
reward you if you carry out this wish of mine.'

"He laughed an unpleasant laugh and left
me.  I waited with such patience as I could
command, knowing that it might take some
time to find a priest whose physical
proportions were equal to my own.  The sun had
set, in fact, before the door of my cell
reopened, and my gaoler, to whom I promptly
handed the reward which I had promised
him, ushered in a tall friar, habited in the
flowing robes of the Dominican Order.

"I bowed to him with that courtesy which,
I trust, has always distinguished me in dealing
with my equals, even when they also happen
to be my enemies.

"'I regret, my father,' I said, 'having to
receive you in so unworthy an apartment.
Nothing but the most stern necessity compels me.'

"The speech surprised him.  He had
evidently expected a more abject attitude.

"'My son, the time is short,' he answered,
'and as I doubt not that your sins are
many, it were well to waste none of it in
idle words.'

"I watched him intently while he spoke,
and took his measure.  It was important,
since the success of the great *coup* that I
projected depended wholly upon the nature
of the man with whom I had to deal.

"He was tall, as I have said, but frail and
spare of build.  I read superstition in the
shape of his forehead, which was high, and
narrow.  His thin lips, and the contour of
his mouth, betokened that mixture of cruelty
and weakness which has made the Spanish
priest so widely hated, even in countries
where there lingers no tradition of the sacred
office.  He was a man who would persecute
if he dared.  But his shifty eyes quailed
before my glance, so that I felt sure that
there was no real courage behind his cruelty.

"First of all, for the success of my plan,
it was necessary that I should give him
convincing demonstration of my superior
physical powers.  I made him feel the muscles
of my arms.

"'There, my father,' I said to him.
'What think you of the cruelty which
condemns a man in the prime of a
strength like mine to be killed like a rat
in a hole?'

"He was already beginning to be afraid
of me, which was what I wanted; but his
dignity did not yet forsake him.

"'It is the will of God,' he answered,
'and I am only here that you may make
confession of your sins.'

"As he was speaking I had slowly advanced
towards him.  As a frightened man will, he
had slunk back before me, so that I was
almost pressing him against the walls in the
corner of the cell farthest from the door.
His eyes showed the vague terror that was
coming over him.  And then I said, sinking
my voice to a whisper—

"'No, my father, you are not here to
listen to my confession.  You are here to
save my life.'

"He made a movement as though he would
cry for help, but with a menacing gesture I
frightened him into silence, so that the sound
died away, unuttered, in his throat.

"'Listen!' I went on, still in the same
subdued tone of voice.  'I have made you
see how strong I am.  You know well that
I can throttle you where you stand, long
before any help can come to you.  I shall
do this if you make a single sound, and
I shall still do it if you hesitate to obey
the orders which I am about to give you.  Now!'

"He made another movement, the faint
beginning of a wriggle, as he thought that
he might slip pass me like an eel.  My hands
approached his throat and he desisted.  I
went on—

"'It is a very simple thing that I require.
In the first place, you will change clothes
with me.  If you are willing to do this, do
not speak, but nod your head.'

"He stood there, pale and motionless,
trying to find the courage to defy me.

"'My father,' I said, 'I can only give you
while I count ten.
One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine——'

"He nodded.

"Undress, then,' I said.  'And mark me,
if there is any noise, or any sign of
hesitation——'

"This time he fully understood that I was
in earnest and obeyed me.  I hurried him,
for there was always the chance that the
gaoler might come back and interrupt us.
In five minutes—or perhaps in less—the
priest had put on my uniform, and I was
attired in the black garb of the Dominican.
But there was still one more little formality
to be gone through.

"'My father,' I said, 'I might make you
swear on your crucifix that you will stay
here quietly until someone comes and finds you.'

"From the shifty look in his eyes I
perceived that this was the very thing that he
would be glad for me to do.

"'But,' I continued, 'the temptation to
break your oath would be very terrible.  It
will be kinder not to expose you to it.  So I
shall gag you.'

"I improvised a gag by tearing a strip of
cloth from my robes, and he submitted to
have it thrust into his mouth.  Then I said—

"'Good-bye, my father.  In the years to
come it will, perhaps, be a grateful memory
to you that you have been instrumental in
saving the life of Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski.'

"And with that I opened the door with the
key that had been left in it for my spiritual
adviser's use, and locked it again carefully
behind me, and strode silently, as though
deep in meditation, down the passage.  No
one suspected anything, no one stopped me
to ask a question.  The prison gate was flung
open wide for me by an obsequious attendant,
and I was once more at liberty.  I made
straight for the hills and hid myself in the
woods and waited for the dawn.

"It broke at last, with all the golden
grandeur of the tropics; and I found that
my hiding-place, though far away,
commanded a view of the yard of the very prison
in which I had been confined a few short
hours before.  There was a bustle and
confusion there.  A prisoner was being dragged,
struggling violently, to the place of execution.
He wore a uniform—my uniform.  I understood.

"'My God!  The gag in his mouth!  He
can't explain; they've mistaken him for me;
they're shooting him instead of me.'

"My heart sank and I was ashamed.
Though all be fair in war, yet I had not
meant this, and knew that it was unworthy
of me.  I give you my word that, if I had
been near enough, I would have stepped
forward to save the priest and resigned myself
to the soldiers' vengeance.  I give you my
word, too, that I shouted aloud with joy when
the sudden firing of cannon and pealing
of alarm bells told me that the Spaniards
had found out their mistake in time, and
that the search for me would now, at last, begin.

"'Courage!' I said to myself, and worked
my way slowly and stealthily down the hillside,
meaning to strike the bay at the point
where I saw the British gunboat lying at
anchor close alongside.

"Before I could get to it there was a short
space of open ground to be traversed, and
in that open space I saw no less a person
than General Burriel himself, with armed
orderlies in attendance, smoking his cigar,
and enjoying the fresh morning air.

"There was nothing for it but to run the
gauntlet of their fire, trusting for my safety
in the inaccuracy of Spanish aim.  I ran;
they missed me; and a minute later, with
the help of a rope that a bluejacket flung to
me, I had scrambled on to the deck of the *Seamew*.

"The captain seemed surprised to see me;
but I explained my presence in a few hot,
hurried sentences.

"'I have escaped from the Santiago prison.
They took me, in the *Washington*, in British
waters.  I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"The captain rose to the occasion.

"'I don't care a hang who you are,' he
replied politely, 'but if they took you in
British waters, you're safe, till further notice,
under the British flag.'

"And he maintained the same attitude
when General Burriel himself approached and
demanded my surrender, saying—

"'I want that man.  That man is my prisoner.'

"The sailors had gripped their cutlasses;
the marines had fixed their bayonets; and
the captain of the *Seamew* stepped forward
and shouted with that magnificent Anglo-Saxon
insolence which is the admiration of
the world—

"'Your prisoner, is he?  Then, hang it,
sir, let's see you come aboard my ship and
take him.'

"But this the Spaniards did not do.  If
they had failed to keep Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski in their prison when he was
alone and friendless, still less could they
recapture him when the whole might of the
British Empire stood behind him."





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE HUNTED POLE`:

.. class:: center large

   THE HUNTED POLE.

.. vspace:: 2

"See!" cried Stromboli, as we strolled round
the Earl's Court Exhibition.  "These stories
of ours are becoming popular.  The
circulation of the magazine increases.  In order
to inspire my creditors with confidence, I
buy a copy for each one of them.  But they
are many.  It will be necessary to raise the
price of the stories, in order that a reasonable
margin of profit may remain."

I suggested that he might find editors more
amenable to argument, "if, for example," I
said, "you have any story of especial interest——"

As usual, Stromboli interrupted me.

"A story of especial interest!  When I
tell you that I have been hunted, like a wild
beast, by officers of the Third Section of the
Chancellerie Imperiale——"

"What!  The Russian secret police?"

"Precisely."

"That ought to do."

"You think so?"

"I am sure of it."

"Then I will begin at once."

So we found a quiet table by the artificial
lake, and while the band played valses and
selections from the comic operas, Stromboli
possessed himself of a vast beaker of black
German beer, and blew dark clouds of smoke,
and proceeded with—

.. vspace:: 1

.. class:: center

THE ADVENTURE OF THE HUNTED POLE.

.. vspace:: 1

"*Voyons*!  It must have been some twenty
years ago, when the bombs were going off in
Russia!  There was a notion—mistaken, as it
proved—that a revolution could be brought
about by means of them.  Fired with
enthusiasm, and having an idea for a bomb of
a new sort, I threw a few necessaries,
including a manifesto, into my portmanteau,
and started for the scene of action.  But I
never reached it.  The machinations of the
police frustrated me.  Let me draw you the
picture of the moment when I first learnt
that the emissaries of the Third Section were
on my track.

"It was at Warsaw.  I had arrived there
late in the afternoon, and had dined well at
the best hotel, toasting the cause silently in the
sparkling wine of the Widow Clicquot.  After
the meal I strolled out into the street to smoke
my cigar, contemplatively, by moonlight.

"The hour was late.  Few loiterers were
abroad except myself.  But presently, after
I had taken several turns, I became aware
of a quick, stealthy step, as of a man from
nowhere, following behind me, and heard a
clear but subdued voice speaking to me.

"'Whatever you do, don't look round.
Walk straight on, and listen to what I say.
Is your name Kosnapulski?'

"'That is part of my name,' I answered,
without turning my head.  'The full name
is Jean Antoine Stromboli——'

"'Right!  You're the man I'm looking
for,' the stranger interrupted.  'But I
mustn't speak to you here.  Turn up the
next side street and keep in the shadow.'

"I hesitated.  It might be the greeting of
a comrade, or it might be the trick of a
vulgar assassin.  I resolved to take the risk,
and turned sharply to the left, the stranger
following me into the dark.

"'Don't stop,' he continued, 'and don't
answer, but listen to what I say.'

"So we walked on as though we did not
know each other, and he talked to me as a
man speaking to himself.

"'Kosnapulski must on no account go back
to his hotel.  The police are there, waiting to
arrest him on his return.  Kosnapulski knows
best whether he desires to meet them;
whether there is anything compromising in
his portmanteau, for example——'

"'Heavens!  My manifesto!' I ejaculated.
'I've signed it in full, Jean Antoine——'

"'Hush!  You mustn't speak.  The
manifesto must be sacrificed.  The better
way will be to travel on foot to the Prussian
frontier.  I have a little parcel here, which
I am placing on a window-ledge.  When I
have gone, come back and fetch it.  It
contains a few things that will help you on
your way.  Walk more slowly while I pass
you, and then turn.  Farewell!'

"He quickened his pace and glided by me—a
cloaked and hooded figure.  I gripped his
hand silently as he passed me.  It was
the least—and the most—that I could
do.  Then I returned and found the little
parcel resting in the place that he had indicated.

"I opened it in the darkest corner that I
could find.  It contained a false beard and
a pair of spectacles, in which I disguised
myself upon the spot; and a small handful
of paper money, a note scrawled in pencil,
which it was too dark to read; a flask of
*vodki*, and a little bread and meat.

"Such was the whole of my provision for
my pilgrimage.  It was a terrible journey.
I travelled only by night, hiding myself in
the woods by day.  But I need not dwell
upon the details.

"My warning of peril was contained in the
pencilled letter in which my  mysterious
friend had wrapped my bread and meat.  I
read it in the woods, while I was hiding in
my disguise.  I read it again by candle-light,
in the first Prussian inn in which I
found shelter after I had passed the frontier.
Cheered and emboldened by generous
draughts of Rhenish wine, I even went so
far as to read it aloud in the *café* of the inn.

"'Listen! my comrades,' I exclaimed.
'How many of you have ever received a
letter of this sort?  Admire the epistolary
style of those who correspond with Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"And I read—

"'Be on your guard!  The Third Section
means to have you.  Its arm is long and it
strikes unscrupulously.  No country is so
remote that it will not pursue you there.  It
will stoop to any means, even to poison and
the dagger.  This time I have warned you.
Another time you may get no warning.  If
you would be safe, hide yourself until your
name has been forgotten.'

"There was laughter at that, as you may
guess, and a stamping of feet and a clapping
of hands.  I leapt upon a chair, and waved
the precious missive above my head, and
shouted in my exultation.

"'You see what happens.  The cause
prospers.  Even in the Third Section itself
the cause has found a friend who protects
the leaders of the people.'

"They cheered me to the echo; for I was
paying for the Rhenish wine.  But the
landlord's daughter—flaxen-haired Fräulein
Minna, who was serving the refreshments—plucked
me by the sleeve and signed to me
to follow her.  I did so.

"'Suppose,' she said, 'there were a spy
of the Third Section in the *café*!"

"'Show him to me,' I replied, 'I will
undertake that he leaves quickly and with
no desire whatever to return.'

"'I dare not—for reasons which I must
not tell you.  But suppose the spy telegraphed
a few words in cipher to St. Petersburg.'

"'*Eh bien*!  Suppose he did.  What could
St. Petersburg do then?'

"'Apply for your extradition on some
trumped-up charge of theft.'

"'Then are there no judges in Germany?' I asked.

"'Why, yes.  But they can be bribed,'
was Fräulein Minna's answer.

"'You've known that happen, little guardian angel?"

"She nodded slowly, with a look full of
meaning in her eyes.

"Then I was frightened—as frightened, at
least, as I have ever allowed myself to be.  I
began to realise the vast powers, the
widespread nets, of that terrible Third Section;
but I was to realise them still more vividly
before many hours were over.

"At that moment her father, the landlord,
burst upon the scene with noisy German oaths.

"'Thunder and lightning!' he said (among
other things), while she fled in terror, before
I had time to intervene.

"Then I drew myself up with dignity.

"'I must ask you to understand, sir,' I
said, 'that the blame for this, if there be
any blame, in wholly mine.  I was merely
asking your daughter a simple question which
I will now address to you.  Can you, at once,
provide me with a horse and carriage, that
I may drive to the nearest railway station?'

"The man's frown relaxed; he became
comparatively civil.

"'It's a strange hour to start travelling,'
he growled, 'but if you are set upon it——'

"'I am absolutely set upon it.'

"'In that case I will drive you there myself.'

"'I thank you.'

"'Come round to the stables, then.'

"He led the way, and in ten minutes or so
the carriage was duly harnessed.

"'Here's something to keep you warm,' he
said, offering me a flask.  'Better try to sleep
a little.'

"Then he mounted the box, and drove off
along the rough roads in the dark.

"The liquor in the flask was *Kirsch-wasser*—a
cordial for which I had no great liking.
I sipped at it and no more.  Nevertheless,
drowsiness overcame me, my fatigue and the
previous draughts of Rhenish wine assisting,
and I fell into a doze.  How long I dozed I
cannot tell you!  All that I know is that,
when I woke with a start, owing to the jolting
and lurching of the carriage, the night was
nearly over and the horizon tinged with the
pale lemon hues that precede dawn.

"'Where in the world am I now?' I
murmured to myself, with a sudden access
of uneasiness.

"For the scenery that I looked out upon
had a strange familiarity.  One after the
other I recognised a hillock, a clump of trees,
a group of farm-buildings—all landmarks that
I had noted in my wanderings of the night before.

"'Heavens!' I ejaculated, as the whole
truth flashed upon me.

"It was against her own father that the
flaxen-haired Minna had wished to warn me,
in the village inn; it was he, and no other,
who was the spy in the pay of the Third
Section.  He had tried to drug me with his
*Kirsch*; and his plot was to drive me back
over the frontier, before I could know what
was happening, and hand me over to the
police.  We might cross the boundary line,
for all that I could tell, at any instant.  Only
by immediate action could I save myself.

"Standing up in my place, and leaning
forward, I gripped the man by the collar
with my left hand, while with my right I
drew his own revolver from his side-pocket
and held it to his head.

"'Scoundrel!' I roared at him, 'pull up
the horse this instant, or I'll shoot you!'

"He felt instinctively that I meant what I
said, and that his game was up.

"'What is it?  What have I done?' he
stammered feebly, bringing the carriage to a
standstill.

"Now that there was no further need for
violence I recovered my customary calm.

"'You have lost your way, Herr Landlord,'
I replied.  'Turn round and try to find it.
Try very hard and very carefully, for this
pistol of yours seems to be loaded, and might
go off at the slightest provocation.  Your
destination, mind you, is not the Russian
frontier, but the nearest German railway
station.'

"He obeyed me sullenly, without further
words.  It was a long, long drive, over a
dreary stretch of country; but it came to an
end at last.  At midday the weary horse
jogged slowly through a village street, and I
got down and paid my driver.

"'Sweep it up,' I said, scornfully tossing
some coins into the gutter for him.  'That is
the proper way to pay men like you.  Now
go and boast to your boon companions how
you have driven Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski to the railway station.'

"He slunk away, fearful lest I should
denounce him to the porter and the
stationmaster—tall, sturdy men, who were likely
to have little sympathy with a Russian spy;
while I, on my part, bought my ticket and
began my journey to my hiding-place.

"Do you think that it was cowardly of me
to wish to hide myself?  Not, surely, after
my warning and my experiences of the vast
powers and the vindictive malice of that
great and unscrupulous organisation which
was endeavouring to hunt me down.
Consider!  Even kings have found it necessary
to hide themselves sometimes; and if a king
may hide himself without loss of dignity in
an oak-tree, then surely it is no shame for a
revolutionist to conceal himself, for a period,
in a Swiss *châlet*.  The king who hid in the
oak-tree would doubtless have preferred the
*châlet* if he could have got to it.

"'*Reculer pour mieux sauter*,' I said to
myself, 'must be my motto.  I have my
idea for a new bomb, and I will work it
out in the friendly solitude of the pine
forests.'

"So I lost no time, but journeyed day and
night until I reached one of those little
villages that lie high up in the hills above
Montreux, on the blue waters of Lake Leman.

"These villages—Chailly, Saint Légier, and
the rest—are, I should tell you, the usual
hiding-places of Russian refugees.  I do not
say, of course, that to have a 'usual
hiding-place' is the wisest course that prudence
could devise.  The practice, as I now see
clearly, must simplify the task of those who
seek.  But, at the time, I did not think of
this.  The shores of the Lake of Geneva
seemed to me, as it were, an Alsatia where
even the Third Section could not seize its victims.

"And oh! the life I lived there!  It was
a strange and welcome interlude of peace, to
which I still sometimes look back with deep
regret when I am tired.

"My *châlet* was high up, in a lonely place,
on the very verge of a great pine forest.  I
used to rise early and wander for a mile
among the meadows.  Behind me towered
the dark crags of the Rochers de Nave;
below me gleamed the lake; before me were
the black Savoy Hills, with the white dome
of the Velan in the distance.  The sight of
these things, and of the deepening autumn
tints upon the vineyards, stirred all the
deep-seated poetry of my nature, until it was
with difficulty that I pulled myself together,
saying—

"'It is time that I was getting on with
my bomb.'

"Nor was I absolutely bereft of company.
In the *châlet* itself, indeed, there was no one
but a deaf old woman—the widow of a
woodcutter—who cooked my dinners.  But, every
now and again I met tourists from the
Montreux hotels and entered into conversation
with them.  I was a mystery to them; they
christened me the hermit of Saint Legier.
But they invited me to refresh myself with
them in the *cafés*, and I did so the more
willingly that my own store of silver coin
was scanty.  And sometimes, when the white
wine flowed, I told them stories of my
revolutionary adventures, such stories as I
now tell to you.

"'You do not know who I am,' I would
say.  'What will you think when I tell you
that I am here in hiding from the Russian
secret police?  Yes, so it is!  I am no other
than Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"And I would go on to tell them the story
of my adventure in the streets of Warsaw,
and other stories which I have told you, or
may tell you later.  It was the only return
that I could make for the extensive
hospitality of those knickerbockered youths.

"One day, moreover—the most memorable
day of all—I made the acquaintance of a
lady.  Let me endeavour to recall that day.

"It was away towards Blonay, at some
distance from my temporary home.  She was
tall and elegant, wearing a white blouse, a
dark skirt, and a sailor hat; her hair was
auburn; her eyes were beautifully blue.  She
looked about her anxiously, as though in
doubt of the direction that she ought to
take.  Revolving the situation rapidly in my
mind, I said to myself—

"'I am favourably impressed.  In the
absence of more serious adventure, this is
emphatically an adventure to be pursued.'

"And to the lady herself I said, raising my
hat with a very courteous flourish—

"'Pardon me, madam.  You seem to me
to have lost your way.  May I place myself
at your disposition and direct you?'

"From her dress and demeanour I had
judged that she was English, but from her
reply it appeared that she was American.

"'Now, I call that real nice of you,' was
her simple answer.

"'Your destination?'

"'Way down at Territet.  Grand Hôtel
des Alpes.'

"'We are at some distance from the high
road.  You will permit me, perhaps, to guide you.'

"'I guess a white man couldn't do less,' she
replied, smiling, and we strolled on together.

"Do not think me boastful or vainglorious
if I tell you that, as your phrase is, I 'made
the running quickly.'  A revolutionist must
needs do so.  He is a busy man, with little
leisure on his hands; he never knows what
an hour may bring forth for him; gallantry
is seldom possible for him, save on the
condition that he makes haste with it and does
not dally over the preliminaries.  Besides, he
enjoys advantages denied to most of you;
he dazzles by virtue of the mystery which
surrounds him; like the soldier, he carries
his life in his hands.  Such things appeal to
women.  It did not surprise me, therefore,
that my beautiful American grew confidential.

"'I'm Daisy van Bean,' she said, 'the
daughter of the railroad king, and I'm
stopping with poppa at Territet.  But say,
now.  You've walked all this way with me
and you haven't yet told me what your name is.'

"It was my chance for the great *coup*
which was to fascinate her imagination, if
not to win her heart.  I answered—

"'Beautiful Daisy, I will surprise
you.  I am Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski—the revolutionist—the
fugitive—the inventor.'

"'The inventor?  Say, now, what have
you invented?'

"'I have just invented a new bomb.'

"She clapped her hands.

"'That's just too lovely for anything,' she
said.  'Tell me all about it.'

"I hesitated; you would have done the
same.  Such secrets are not lightly to be
babbled of.  But was there ever an inventor
who did not delight to talk of his invention—even
before it was provisionally protected?
So I told.

"'Beautiful Daisy, it is a bomb of which
I think I have every reason to be proud.
The principal ingredient is fulminate of
mercury.  It will make a terrible noise, but
do no harm worth speaking of.  You wonder;
but I will explain.  What is the object of
a bomb?  To terrorise.  What is the most
effective cause of terror?  Noise.  By noise,
far more than by any other means, shall we
frighten governments into conceding our demands.'

"She was not indignant, as some women
would have been, but only curious.

"'I'd just love to have a look at that
bomb,' she said.

"'But, beautiful Daisy,' I replied, 'even
if you saw it, you would never know that it
was a bomb.  That is another of its merits.
It can be made up to look like anything—like
a cigar-case, for example, or a photograph
album, or a purse.'

"'How clever!'

"'Still,' I said, 'if you would deign to
accept the humble hospitality of a bachelor's
roof——'

"She was emancipated—even for an
American.  The usual proprieties seemed to
have no hold upon her.

"'I will,' she said, 'and if I'm alive
to-morrow, I'll be passing here about this time.'

"And then we said good-bye.  If only I
had known!  But I must not anticipate.

"I prepared a feast for my beautiful Daisy—such
a feast as my modest means permitted.
We had tea and fruits, and bread and butter,
and cream, and honey—real honey, not the
poisonous stuff they make at Zurich.  Imagine,
then, my consternation when she burst into
a flood of tears, exclaiming—

"'Oh!  I feel mean, I do.  I feel real mean.'

"I imagined, of course, that she was
ashamed of the advantage that she was
taking of the confidence which her parents
had reposed in her, and I tried to comfort
her upon that supposition.  But she was
inconsolable.

"'No, no, it isn't that,' she said.  'Why
I feel mean is that I deceived you.  I'm not
Daisy van Bean, and my poppa isn't a railroad king.'

"I tried to assure her that I was superior
to all foolish prejudices about her social
station; but she interrupted me again—

"'Listen!  There's no time to lose.  I'm
just a spy and a decoy of the Third Section.
They heard of you, and they sent me up to
make sure, and they're following me—six of
them—this very afternoon.  I didn't intend
telling you; but when you looked at me just
then, I felt real mean.'

"'I must not stay here another moment,'
I said.  'Come with me.  Let us fly together.'

"'Too late! too late!' she murmured.
'I hear them coming.'

"And, sure enough, there was the sound
of footsteps on the gravel.  But a thought
struck her.

"'What's the matter with getting out of
the window?' she asked eagerly.

"'They are all barred,' I answered.
'With my own hands I fixed the bars, so
that the Third Section might not break in
by night.  How was I to know that the
Third Section would attempt to enter in
broad daylight by the door?'

"She gasped.

"'Great snakes!  As if, in a lonesome
place like this, it wasn't the easiest thing in
the world to rush the house!'

"'Rush the house!' I repeated, for the
Americanism was new to me.

"But Daisy only went into hysterics on the
sofa, and ten seconds later I had grasped the
meaning of her words.

"The door opened and the intruders entered.
There were six of them, all dressed in
black, as men who go to funerals.  I should
have wondered at this if I had had the time
to wonder, but I had none.  There was no
parley, no attempt at parley.  They knew
their *rôle* and I knew mine.  I hurled the
teacup at the foremost of them and gashed
his forehead badly.  The milk-jug followed,
breaking the front teeth of the second.  Then
they ran in upon me and we fought at close
quarters.

.. _`"I hurled the teacup at the foremost of them."`:

.. figure:: images/img-084.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "I hurled the teacup at the foremost of them."

   "I hurled the teacup at the foremost of them."

"Such a fight as it was!  Kicking upwards,
I caught one of them under the chin,
so that he lay for dead upon the floor.  A
second, getting the sole of my boot in the
pit of his stomach, fell, doubled up, in the
remotest corner of the room.  A third,
however, with fiendish ingenuity, hurled a chair
between my legs.  I tripped and fell, half
dazed with the blow that my head got as I
tumbled.  They rushed upon me, pinioned
me, and tied my hands and feet.  The fight
had hardly lasted a minute, and, conquered
by superior numbers, I was at their mercy.

"'Run for help, Marie,' I had shouted to
my old housekeeper at the beginning of the
struggle, and, though she was deaf and could
not hear me, what she saw sufficed to send
her, screaming loudly, down the hill.

"One of my assailants, however, pursued
her, caught her, put his hand over her mouth,
lifted her in his arms, and brought her back
and locked her in her bedroom.  I saw her
kicking, as he carried her past the open door,
and then my senses left me.

"How long I lay stunned I cannot tell you.
Wholly unconscious at first, I must have
continued for hours in a state of semi-consciousness,
vaguely aware, like a man in a dream,
of the strange things that were going on
around me.  I perceived dimly that night
fell and that the lamps were lighted.  As it
were through a mist, I saw the figures of men
watching me.  From time to time I heard
muffled voices that I could make nothing of.
At last if seemed as if a cloud had suddenly
lifted, and my senses returned to me with a
flash.

"Horror of horrors!  I was sitting—in an
open coffin—with the lid lying on the floor
beside it, ready to be fixed on!

"'A thousand thunders!' I yelled, trying
to struggle to my feet.  'What are you
doing?  I am——'

"But, with my hands and feet fastened, I
could scarcely move.

"A rough hand thrust me back, and one of
my enemies—he with the damaged forehead—held
a piece of stamped paper before my eyes,
saying jeeringly—

"'You are Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski, are you?  Then read that, my
friend!'

"'Good Heavens!' I ejaculated.

"The paper was my *acte de décès*—my death
certificate, bearing the signature—forged, of
course—of the leading physician of Montreux.

"So the scheme of these ruffians of the
Third Section was—to bury me alive!  I
could have no doubt of it, and I could do
nothing to help myself.  There was just a
chance that Daisy might find a means of
saving me; but it was a very faint chance.
The others would almost certainly look too
sharply after her for that.  I felt my face
blanch and great beads of sweat stand out
upon my forehead.  I made a desperate
effort to free myself, but with no result.

"The men stood round and laughed at me,
and then one of them advanced and clapped
a pad over my mouth.

"'Here's something to keep you quiet, my
friend,' he said derisively.

"Those were the last words I heard.  There
followed the sickly smell of chloroform, the
insufferable sense of suffocation, and then a
blank unconsciousness, drifting into weird and
wonderful dreams.  At last—after how long
a period I cannot say—consciousness and
recollection stole back to me together.  I
grasped the meaning of the incessant rattling
and jolting which had been with me in my
dreams, and still continued now that all my
faculties were once more awakened.

"'The fiends!' I ejaculated, as the awful
truth came home to me.  The Third Section
had kidnapped me and locked me in the
coffin, for the purpose of conveying me back
to Russia, where, without doubt, the
hangman's rope awaited me.  They had forged
the death certificate in order to be able to
pass the coffin, without question or investigation,
through the various custom-houses.  It
was a better fate than being buried alive, as
I had expected; but only because it gave the
chapter of accidents an opening.

"'Let me out!  I have no business here.
I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"But no answer came.  If any sound had
issued from my narrow prison, the rumbling
of the train had drowned it.  If I were ever
to get out of it, I must find the way myself,
by my own strength and ingenuity.

"By luck my hands were not so securely
fastened as they might have been.  Confident
in the strength of the coffin itself, my captors
had evidently been guilty of carelessness in
this respect.  I was able to get my hands to
my mouth, and, after half an hour's patient
work, to undo the knot with my teeth.

"'Now let me see if they have left me
any sort of tool,' I said to myself.

"So I first rescued my feet from their bonds
and then fumbled in my pockets.  The fools
had not taken the trouble to empty them,
thinking, no doubt, that it would be time
enough to do this when I reached my destination;
but they contained little enough, all
the same.  A few coins, a few notes of the
Geneva Bank, a box of matches, some letters,
a key, a small pocket-knife, and a cigar-case—such
was the full list of the implements
that I had to work with.

"'First for the cigar-case,' I mused.  'If
only I knew whether that was the bomb
cigar-case!'

"For I knew that, in one of my cigar-cases,
I had packed one of my noisy but harmless
bombs; though whether it was in the one
that I had in my pocket, or in the one that I
had left upon the mantelpiece, I could not
recollect.  In the former event my course
was clear.  I had only to wait until the train
stopped and then fire it.  The terrific din
would doubtless break the drums of both my
ears; the flame might even scorch my face.
But at least the train would be searched after
the explosion, and when smoke was seen
issuing from the coffin, through the breathing-holes
that had been bored for me, it would be opened.

"I waited patiently until we reached a
station.  Then, holding the case carefully
behind my back, so as to save my face as
much as possible, I jerked it open.

"But nothing happened—nothing, that is
to say, except that the cigars fell out of it!

"'Let me see how far the knife will help
me,' was my next idea.

"It was quite a little knife, as I have said.
But the journey to the Russian frontier was
a long one.  I had plenty of time in front of
me.  It seemed just possible that, if I worked
diligently, I might at least carve a hole in
the lid through which I could put out a finger,
if not a hand, and make a signal of distress.
I opened the little pocket-knife and set to work.

"At first things went quite easily.  The
interior of the coffin was lined with a thick
felting, designed, no doubt, to muffle any
noise that its occupant might make.  I
worked diligently and succeeded in stripping
off a patch of it.  But I could get no further.
Alas! and alas!  Behind the padding I
encountered, not wood, but solid lead, upon
which the knife made no impression.

"Beaten again!'

"I gasped out the words in the bitterness
of my despair and fainted.  For an hour or
two, as I conjecture, I lay senseless on my
back.  My last hope, apparently, was gone.
My one chance of escaping the hangman was
to die before I reached him.  But then,
suddenly—

"Crash!  Bang!

"The noise reached me even in my leaden
box.  I felt the train slowing down
immediately afterwards, and knew exactly what
must have happened.

"'The Third Section!  They stole the
cigar-case from my mantelpiece.  They've
opened it to try the cigars and fired the
bomb themselves.'

"But depression followed quickly on the
heels of exultation.  The firing of the bomb,
though it stopped the train and caused the
Russian spies to be arrested, would hardly
help me to declare my presence in the coffin.
The chance was that I should be left there
till I starved, or else put hastily underground
because no one knew who I was.  What was
I to do to arrest the attention of the officials,
who were even now beginning to search the
train from end to end.

"I thought hard, as though my brain were
packed in ice, and then the inspiration came
to me.

"'I have it!  The cigars!  If they see
smoke coming through the air-holes, they'll
think it was the bomb!'

"Did you ever try to smoke a cigar when
you had just come round after having been
under chloroform?  If not, then you may
take my word for it that it needs more
heroism than to charge a battery or defend
a barricade.  I choked and coughed.  I was
seized by the most hideous nausea.  I would
have preferred the torture of the rack or
thumbscrew.  But I bit my lips and stuck
to it, smoking for dear life's sake.

"It seemed whole weeks before my signal
was discovered, though from the length of
the ash upon my *Vevey fine* I knew that it
could not have been more than five minutes
at the outside.  At last I began to hear
voices, though I failed to distinguish the
words, and realised that tools were at work
upon my living tomb.  In spite of the awful
nausea, I puffed away harder than ever,
pressing upwards with my hand, so as to
lift the lid the very moment it was loosened.

"At last it yielded.  I thrust it off, not
waiting for it to be lifted, and with the
stump of my cigar still between my fingers
sprang to my feet, exclaiming—

"'It is time that I was out of this.  I
have no business here.'

"The guards and porters and policemen
who were standing round turned pale, as
though they had seen a ghost, and nearly
fell into each other's arms.

"'Who the——' one of them ejaculated
in his consternation, and I answered
reassuringly—

"'Fear nothing!  No harm will happen
to you.  I am Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski.'

"Then I stepped out of my box and looked
around me.  We were at Basle.  On the
platform I saw my old enemy of the Third
Section—the same man whose forehead I
had gashed—offering explanations to two
policemen, who held him fast and did not
seem at all disposed to listen to him.

"I pointed at him with the finger of
denunciation.

"'There he is,' I cried.  'That is the
culprit; that is the man who fired the bomb.
He was making bombs in the woods near
Montreux, and because I caught him at it
he kidnapped me and threatened me with
this living death.  It is a voice from the
dead that now convicts him of his crime.'

"You can imagine the effect that followed
from my words.  The crowd rushed forward
as one man, vowing that it would tear the
miscreant limb from limb; the police, as
one man, formed up to save him for more
formal and deliberate justice, and I found
myself standing alone and unobserved upon
the platform.

"'This is a good opportunity of retiring
unobtrusively,' I said to myself, 'If I
remain to give evidence, I shall be the mark
of the vengeance of the Third Section for
the remainder of my life.  Better that an
ocean should roll between us; better that
I should disappear mysteriously and leave no
trace behind.'

"So, taking advantage of the confusion, I
bought a ticket and slipped unnoticed into
the Paris train *en route* for Havre and America.

"Afterwards, from the papers, I learnt that
my enemy of the Third Section—whose
Government naturally could not help him—had
been sentenced to imprisonment with
hard labour."





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE COUNTER REVOLUTION`:

.. class:: center large

   THE COUNTER-REVOLUTION.

.. vspace:: 2

Stromboli smoked a cigar, slowly and
meditatively, in my chambers.  The dreamy yet
earnest look in his eyes indicated that he
was following an important train of thought.
At last he spoke.

"What," he asked, "is your candid opinion
of me as a story-teller?"

I smiled my admiration and replied—

"My friend, I find many notable
qualities in your stories, but the quality
which pleases me best is the modesty of
the narrator."

For the first time the revolutionist
flashed a suspicious glance at me,
ejaculating—

"My modesty?  What do you mean, then?"

"I refer," I said, "to the readiness with
which you acknowledge that your appearance
in revolutions has sometimes been more
picturesque than dignified.  Take that Nihilist
story," I explained.  "It seems that all that
you did for the cause was to smoke a cigar
in your coffin."

"But you know that my *rôle* has not often
been so humble as on that occasion.  If I
have sunk low, I have also risen high.  Listen,
and I will tell you.  I was once the President
of a republic."

"You don't say so?" was the feeble
remark I blurted out.

"I say so," he replied with gentle dignity,
"for no other reason than because it happens
to be the fact.  I suppose I should still be
the President of a republic if it had not been
for the counter-revolution.  A counter-revolution,"
he added, philosophically, "is no
unusual incident in the history of the
republics of Central America."

I nodded my acquiescence.

"Still," I urged, "it would be a good idea
for you to tell the story.  It exhibits you,
no doubt, in a heroic light."

"I leave you to be the judge of that,"
Stromboli answered, and forthwith began upon—

.. vspace:: 1

.. class:: center

THE ADVENTURE OF THE COUNTER-REVOLUTION.

.. vspace:: 1

"On escaping from my coffin, as I have
told you, I hurried by way of Havre to New
York—a city where revolutionists are treated
with respect, and may even obtain municipal
office by means of the Irish vote.  I make
no doubt I should have risen to some
distinction of the kind, if another employment
had not been found for me by private enterprise.

"It happened in an underground saloon
bar—a 'dive' as it was called—which I
frequented.  I used to sit there in the
company of some large-hearted Irishmen who had
got into trouble with the British Government.
We told each other stories of adventures, and
I flatter myself that, as a story-teller, I held
my own among them.  But the crisis in my
career arrived when I heard a strange but
friendly voice at my elbow, speaking the one word—

"'Cocktail?'

"I accepted the invitation and turned
round to inspect my host.  As he was
well-dressed, my first impression was that he
was a young man of fashion—a 'dude,' in
fact—engaged in seeing life.  His manner,
however, was not languid enough for that,
and the look in his eyes was too keen.

"He watched me closely and drew to the
other end of the saloon, where we could talk
without being overheard.  Then he jerked out—

"'Say, now!  Those stories you've been
tellin'—partly true, s'pose?'

"'Sir,' I said, 'if you have only offered
me hospitality for the purpose of throwing
doubt upon my word——'

"The stranger apologised, and, after a
pause, approached the subject from a fresh
point of view.

"'Say, though.  You're by way of being
a desperate character, anyhow, reckon?' and
added, dropping the words as if what he said
was of no particular importance, 'Lookin'
out for employment, likely?'

"It seemed kindly meant, though crudely
put; the conjecture was correct.  Before I
could enlarge upon the extent and nature of
my qualifications he cut me short again.

"'Drop round on me at two o'clock to-morrow
afternoon, and we'll fit up a deal
right there.  Here is my card.  Now, as it's
getting late, I'll say "Good-night" to you
and get on the car.  Glad to have made your
acquaintance.  Hope to renew it in the
morning.'

"He shook my hand and hurried off.  I
examined his card and found it thus inscribed—

.. vspace:: 1

.. class:: center white-space-pre-line

HIRAM P. VAN SCHUYLER,
115, Broadway.

.. vspace:: 1

It was a name that I knew—a name that
everybody knew.  Hiram P. Van Schuyler
was a millionaire—a railroad king.  It
puzzled me to think what he could want in
seeking the acquaintance of a revolutionist.
Did he desire to buy me over to constitutional
causes?  If so——

"'There is some mystery here,' I said to
myself, 'and I will probe it to the bottom.'

"So out of curiosity, rather than from any
higher motive, I decided to keep the
appointment which Mr. Van Schuyler had made.

"His offices occupied the whole of an
enormous block of buildings; his own private
room was on the highest floor.  An elevator
carried me up to it, a clerk showed me in,
and Mr. Van Schuyler shook me warmly by
the hand.

"'Glad to see you.  Take a seat, Mr.——'

"'Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski,'
I explained.

"'That's so.  I think you were saying that
you're in favour of revolutions?'

"I had not, in fact, said anything of the
kind; but as he had said it for me, I replied—

"'My services—such as they are—have
always been at the disposition——'

"'That's the notion, sir.  Now, I'm going
to make you a square offer.'

"Now, I was quite sure that he wished to
bribe me to abandon my political opinions,
and I prepared an appropriate reply.  But I
had no use for it.

"'My offer is—subject, of course, to certain
conditions,' Mr. Van Schuyler continued—'to
put up the dollars for a revolution in
the Republic of Nicaragua.'

"Once more I breathed freely; and Mr. Van
Schuyler proceeded to explain, as coolly
as though he were discussing the most simple
matter of business routine.

"'You see, it's this way.  There are
concessions to be had in Nicaragua, and I want
the handling of them—concessions for railroads,
concessions for gold-mining, concessions
for street-lighting, and plenty more.  The
existing Government does not see its way to
offer me sufficiently remunerative terms.
Therefore, the existing Government has to
go, and my nominee has to be elected
President.  If he can see his way to being elected
Emperor, so much the better.  The main
thing is that, after election, he must afford
me the necessary facilities for developing the
resources of the country.  Possibly there is
no money in those resources; but that
doesn't matter.  There's money in the
concessions, and I mean getting them.  The
question is, therefore: Will you accept my
nomination to the Nicaraguan Presidency?
Don't decide in a hurry.  Think it over
carefully for two minutes while I write a letter,
and then let me know.'

"During the allotted interval I turned the
matter over carefully in my mind.

"'Your proposal is of a somewhat unusual
character,' I said.

"'If it were usual, there wouldn't be money
in it,' Mr. Van Schuyler answered; and the
argument impressed me favourably.

"'Then I am willing to act for you,' said I.

"'Then we'll consider it fixed up,' said
he.  'Go home and draft your plan of action,
and drop round again this time to-morrow.
In the meantime, don't go gassing about it in
the saloons, or Jacob Van Tine'll get hold
of the notion and put up a rival nominee.'

"I swore that I would be as silent as the grave.

"'Right,' said Mr. Van Schuyler.  'Good
afternoon, Mr.——'

"'Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski,'
I prompted.

"'That is so.  Good afternoon, sir.'

"So we shook hands again and I departed
to mature my schemes; for there was much
to be thought over and little time for thinking.

"'I will be methodical,' I said to myself,
'and begin at the beginning.  First of all, I
must find out where is Nicaragua, and how
one gets there—whether by rail or steamer.
Some further particulars as to the population,
and national defences, and the present
political condition of the country, will also
be of service to me.  They will know these
things at the State Library.  I will go there
and inquire.  But I will be careful not to
divulge my secret to the librarian.  Doubtless
it will suffice to make him communicative if
I throw out mysterious hints.'

"Then I rode down to the Library on the
cars, and though I made only the most
obscure references to the delicate mission
with which I was entrusted, all the vast
resources of the establishment were instantly
placed at my disposal.  In the course of a
couple of hours I had probed the question to
the bottom, and by the time of my next
appointment with Mr. Van Schuyler was
thoroughly master of my subject.

"'I have discovered,' I told him, 'that the
Republic of Nicaragua contains more than a
quarter of a million of inhabitants.'

"'The precise number, according to the
last census, was 259,800,' said Mr. Van
Schuyler.  'Fire ahead.'

"'I calculate that an army of ten thousand
trustworthy volunteers——

"'Would eat up all my margin of profit
and a bit more besides.  Try again.'

"'I was about to say, when you interrupted
me,' I proceeded, 'that such an army was
obviously out of the question.  On the other
hands, I should have no confidence in any
smaller army.  Consequently——'

"'Consequently, you're going to turn up
the job?'

"I drew myself up proudly in my indignation.

"'No, sir,' I replied.  'Your suggestion
shows that you do not know Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"'What, then?'

"'I propose to go to Nicaragua alone,
trusting to the operation of that law of
Nature which, in a troubled country,
invariably brings the strong man to the front.'

"Mr. Van Schuyler's face brightened.

"'Can you start right now?' he asked.

"'I can,' I answered.

"'Then I'll open you a credit of fifty
thousand dollars in the bank of Nicaragua
to go on with.  Take another fifty thousand
dollars in bills on New York, in case you
need them.  When you want to cable, use
my private code, which I'll give you.  That's
all, I think.'

"It was a great undertaking, was it not,
to overthrow the Government of a republic
with no other weapon than my strength of
character?  Yet I was confident of success—so
much so that, feeling that secrecy no
longer mattered, I brightened my journey to
San Francisco by discussing my prospects
with a fellow passenger.

"He was a big, burly man, red-bearded,
tanned by the sun, attired in corduroy
breeches and a blue serge shirt, and he told
me that he passed by the name of Colorado
Charlie.  If I had desired a lieutenant to aid
me in any daring enterprise, he was the very
type of man I should have chosen; and as
I was resolved to go alone, it seemed the most
natural thing in the world to confide in him.

"'I am as brave as you are, but more
cunning,' I said to him.  'Mark my words and
you shall see.  Like Joshua, I will blow my
own trumpet, and the wall shall fall down
flat.  I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"'Stranger,' he responded cordially, 'I
cotton to you.  It sounds a one-sided
arrangement, and rather rough on the Nicaraguans;
but I take it that in the hour of victory you
will be merciful as you are strong.'

"'I will,' I cried enthusiastically.

"'In that case, sir,' said Colorado Charlie,
'I will, with your permission, call for drinks,
and we will lower them together in honour of
your enterprise.'

"So he called for Bourbon whisky and
persuaded me to drink it raw.  Raw Bourbon
whisky burns the throat, but comforts the
stomach and unties the tongue.  Until the
bottle was empty I talked freely of Nicaraguan
affairs.  When I had finished it I fell asleep,
and when I awoke I found that my companion
had descended at a wayside station, leaving
me alone, a sufferer from a splitting headache.

"As for the further incidents of my journey,
I need not trouble you with them, for they
were of no importance.  There was a certain
delay at San Francisco while I waited for a
steamer; and the boat, when it started,
travelled slowly and pitched more than I
liked.  Ultimately, however, I reached
Managua, the capital of the country and the
seat of the government which I had
undertaken to overthrow with no other force than
my unaided strength of character.  I put up
at the best hotel, where I made a favourable
impression by engaging the best apartments
and—contrary to my usual habit—paying for
them in advance.  Then I visited the bank,
established my identity, furnished an example
of my signature, and provided myself with
a large book of cheques payable to bearer.
Then I dined sumptuously, and after dinner
began my campaign by summoning the landlord
to my presence.  In private life he was,
I believe, a colonel in the army; but in his
public capacity he stood before me with
obsequious bows and smirks.

"'Señor Landlord,' I said to him, 'will
you be kind enough to tell me the exact
name of the President of this Republic?'

"He told me.  It was a long name—longer
even than my own—but the essential
part of it was Don Juan.

"'Then, Señor Landlord,' I proceeded,
'will you kindly send a boy round to the
Palace with my compliments—the compliments
of Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski—to
say that it will give me great pleasure
if the President will step round and smoke a
cigar.'

"The landlord smiled, and shrugged
his shoulders, and looked the picture of
despair.

"'Alas! milord, it is impossible,' he
answered.  'It is now three months since
the President last went outside the Palace
gates.'

"'How, then?  Is he ill?' I asked sympathetically.

"'It is not that, milord.  It is that when
he shows himself, the leaders of the
constitutional party shoot at him.  They are bad
marksmen, it is true; but the President
fears that, as there are so many of them,
one of them, by accident, might hit him.'

"I reflected, and, with the instinctive
rapidity of genius, formed a plan.

"'In that case,' I said, 'you may inform
the President that I propose to do myself
the honour of calling upon him in the
morning.'

"'But the President receives no one,'
replied the landlord.  'It is now two months
since he received anyone.  When he found
that so many visitors only called for the
purpose of attempting to assassinate him, his
Excellency decided that it would be better
to give up receiving them.'

"Once more I meditated.  Evidently there
was a good deal of dissatisfaction felt with
the existing Nicaraguan Government.  The
discovery quieted any qualms that might
otherwise have hampered my attempt to
overthrow it.  It also showed me that one
way of making a revolution there would be
to take a side and lead it to victory; but I
preferred the more manly course of independent
action.

"'Then you need say nothing to the
President,' I told the landlord.  'I will call
upon him unannounced and take my chance
of finding him.'

"'Of course milord will drive.  Will four
horses be sufficient for milord?' the man
inquired.

"I told him I should need no horses, but
should go on foot.  He looked disappointed,
having doubtless intended to charge me
heavily for the hire of horses; but I cheered
him up by writing him out a cheque payable
to bearer.  It was a negotiable instrument
little used by Nicaraguans, and it was a part
of my plan to familiarise them with the fact
that the bank would hand money over the
counter in exchange for them.  When, early
the next morning, I looked out of my window
and saw my landlord in the centre of the
*plaza*, attired in his military uniform, hugging
a bag of silver dollars to his breast, and
explaining the nature of the transaction to an
animated group of fellow-citizens, my
confidence in the scheme which I had devised
rose high.

"'An ass laden with gold captured cities
in ancient Greece,' I said to myself.  'Shall
not a man carrying a cheque-book be able to
do as much in modern Nicaragua?'

"I waited patiently, smoking my cigar,
while the reputation of the cheque-book
spread itself through the city.  Then I
wrote out a number of other cheques for
various sums, all payable to bearer, and,
putting on the evening dress and the white
kid gloves which are usual for visits of
ceremony, walked over to the Palace, where the
President resided.  As I had expected, I
found the entrance barred by a couple of
sentinels who were playing cards and smoking
cigarettes.

"'Is the President at home?' I asked
them politely.

"They sprang to their feet, thrust their
cigarettes between their teeth, took up their
rifles, and pointed their fixed bayonets
truculently towards my stomach.

"I calmed them with a friendly gesture.

.. _`"I calmed them with a friendly gesture."`:

.. figure:: images/img-110.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "I calmed them with a friendly gesture."

   "I calmed them with a friendly gesture."

"'I mean your President no harm; and,
as a token of the integrity of my purpose, I
would like to present you with these little
cheques.  You will observe that they are
payable to bearer.'

"The men took the slips of pale green
paper, and looked carefully at them, at me,
and at each other.  Smiles came out upon
their faces and gradually broadened into
grins.  With slow and deliberate movement
they leant their rifles up against the walls,
and then, without a word of explanation, or
even of thanks, they started together at the
double for the bank.

"'It is a good beginning,' I said to myself,
and walked on up the Palace garden to the
front door.

"Two other sentinels were on guard here;
and they also were smoking cigarettes and
playing cards.  To them, too, I handed
cheques with a few sympathetic words, and
had the satisfaction of seeing them run off,
like happy children, in chase of their
fellow-soldiers.

"'We are making progress,' I said to
myself, and passed on unimpeded into the
entrance-hall.

"There, various servants—first footmen
in livery, and then cooks and housemaids—came
out and crowded round me.  I had
expected it and I was prepared.  The cheques
to bearer, as I have told you, were already
filled up and signed.  It was only the work
of a minute to sit down at a table, tear them
out of the book, and push them into the eager,
outstretched hands.  The reputation of my
cheques to bearer had reached them perhaps
a quarter of an hour before.  They snatched
them from me, and, without waiting to put
on their hats, men, women, and even boys,
started off in rapid procession down the street
towards the bank.

"Once more I was alone.  But not for
long.  The noise made by my rapid distribution
of cheques had evidently been overheard.
A door opened and there issued from it a
little man in a magnificent scarlet uniform,
with magnificent white plumes in his cocked hat.

"'*Carramba*!  Who are you, and what are
you doing here?' was his ferocious greeting.

"I advanced towards him courteously.

"'I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski,'
I answered, gently but firmly.  'May
I, in my turn, inquire to whom I have the
honour of speaking?'

"'*Carramba*!  I am the General Montojo
del Rio Grande del Norte, Minister of War
to the Republic of Nicaragua,' he retorted,
laying his hand upon his sword.

"In defence I laid my hand upon my
cheque-book.

"'The honour is entirely mine,' I said.
'In evidence of the pleasure which I feel in
making your acquaintance, you will perhaps
permit me to present you with this small
cheque.  You will perceive that it is an open
cheque for 2,000 dollars, made payable to bearer.'

"For the first time in the course of my
adventure I experienced a rebuff.

"'*Carramba*!' the War Minister repeated
for the third time, and flung my cheque
scornfully on the floor and trampled on it,
half drawing his sabre from the scabbard.

"But I was a match for him.

"'Pardon me,' I said.  'I see I have given
you the wrong cheque by mistake.  This was
the cheque that I intended for you.  It is
payable to bearer, like the other, but it is
for the sum of 5,000 dollars.'

"General Montojo del Rio Grande del
Norte took the cheque from me and
examined it; he picked up the first cheque
from the floor and examined that also;
Then he stuffed both cheques into his pocket
and said abruptly—

"'Excuse me!  I have an important
appointment, and I must go and keep it.'

"And he turned on his heel with dignity
and left me.  A minute later I caught another
glimpse of him through one of the windows.
He was running—I never saw a man run so fast.

"'I think I may take it that that fixes
the price of a Cabinet Minister at 5,000
dollars.  The other 2,000 dollars were of the
nature of a windfall which the rest will not
expect.'

"Scarcely had I said it when the hall was
full of Cabinet Ministers, who had apparently
broken up a Cabinet Council in order to
come and look for their colleague.  I received
them with *empressement*, and cut short their
demand for explanations by the immediate
production of my cheque-book.  I gave
cheques for 5,000 dollars each to the Minister
of the Interior, the Minister for Foreign
Affairs, the Finance Minister, the Minister
of Education, and the Minister of Agriculture;
and as they warmly shook my hand I added—

"'No doubt you would like to go and
cash your cheques at once.  Pray do not
stand on ceremony.'

"And they did not stand; they ran.
Not being in uniform, they ran, I fancy,
faster even than General Montojo del
Rio Grande del Norte, the War Minister
himself.

"In this way, by my force of character,
and my knowledge of human nature, I had
at last cleared my path of obstacles.  Nothing
but a door now stood between me and a
private interview with the President.  I
knocked, and was answered with the usual—

"'Come in!'

"As I had expected, the President was
surprised to see me.  He wore many orders
and decorations; but his face had a tired
and haggard look, and he shrank visibly, as
though he expected me to strike him.  It
was an obvious relief to him when I sat down
and commenced a friendly conversation.

"'Fear nothing,' I said.  'I am Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski, and I shall
not assassinate you unless it is absolutely
necessary.'

"Perceiving that he was at my mercy,
he bowed his head with all the dignity
that he could muster and waited for me
to proceed.

"'I conjecture, sir,' I went on, 'that it is
less for your pleasure than for your profit
that you have assumed the onerous position
of President of this Republic.'

"He opened his eyes wide.  My candour
evidently puzzled him.  He did not seem to
know whether to take offence at it or not.

"'If my impression is correct,' I continued,
'we have already found the basis of an
arrangement which will be equally satisfactory
to both of us.  Do not beat about the bush,
but confide in me frankly.  Tell me, as nearly
as you can, what the Presidency is worth to
you, and I will see what sort of an offer I
can make you for it.'

"His face exhibited a strange mixture of
emotions, his first impulse being to ring the
bell for his servants to eject me.

"'It is useless,' I explained.  'All the
members of your household, and all the
members of your Cabinet, have gone to the
bank to cash the cheques which I have given them.'

"The President spoke for the first time.

"'Really,' he said, 'this is a very extraordinary
situation.'

"'Try to realise it,' I replied, 'and avail
yourself of the advantage which it offers you.'

"'I am not quite sure,' he objected, 'that
I grasp your Excellency's meaning.'

"I explained myself in greater detail, and
had the satisfaction of seeing gleams of
intelligence flash in rapid succession across his
features.  It was my desire, I pointed out,
to become President of the Nicaraguan
Republic instead of him; and I was willing to
pay him (in hard cash) not only reasonable,
but even generous, compensation for
disturbance.  And I concluded, laying my hand in
a friendly, and almost fatherly, fashion on
his shoulder—

"'Come, now, speak to me, as between
man and man.  Tell me how much you are
expecting to make out of it?'

"At last I had coaxed him into giving me
his confidence.

"'It isn't the salary that's of importance,'
he said, 'but there are certain perquisites.'

"'So I had imagined,' I interposed encouragingly.

"'I get a commission of ten per cent. on
the salaries of the Cabinet Ministers; and
there are other commissions—tax-collectors
have to pay me for their appointments, and
there's always a little something to be made
by pardoning political offenders.  As fast as
the money comes in, I send it to London to
lie as deposit in the Bank of England.  On
the whole, I'm doing pretty nicely, but I
haven't saved enough yet.  Still, it's a
wearing life.  There's a certain amount of
discontent about; and though our social
reformers aren't very good marksmen as a
rule——'

"'How much?' I interrupted, for his
elaborate explanations were beginning to pall
upon me.

"'I think I might say 50,000 dollars,'
replied the President of Nicaragua.

"To his amazement, I did not haggle, but
produced New York bills for the amount and
spread them on the table.

"There,' I said.  'Now tell me what is
the next step to be taken, according to the
constitution of the country.'

"He took pen and ink, and a sheet of
paper, and wrote something.

"'This,' he explained, 'is a decree,
appointing you Provisional President during my
indisposition, and announcing that there will
be a *plébiscite* to elect my successor on Sunday
next.  In the meantime, if you cultivate the
friendship of the Minister for War——'

"'Certainly.  I will give him another
cheque payable to bearer,' I interposed.

"'In that case he will send soldiers to see
that the result of the *plébiscite* is favourable
to you.'

"'And this decree?'

"'Shall be sent to the Government printers
at once, and placarded in the course of half
an hour.  In the meantime, as I see that
the members of my household are now
returning from the bank, I trust that your
Excellency, the Provisional President, will
have lunch with me.'

"Need I say that I accepted the invitation.
It was a magnificent meal, served in a large
and stately dining-hall.  I sat at the head
of the table, with the ex-President on my
right and the War Minister on my left.  It
was, perhaps, the supreme moment of my
life—the moment when I attained the zenith
of my earthly fortune.  But alas for the
mutability of human beings!

"We lunched at leisure like epicures,
slowly enjoying the flavour of the soup, the
fish, the cutlets, the poultry, and the salad.
In two hours' time we had arrived at the
dessert without any untoward incident; but
just as we had got to the bananas and the
sweet champagne, we heard the loud noise
of a disturbance outside the Palace walls—a
noise of firearms and of vigorous human voices.

"I looked inquiringly at the ex-President.

"'Excuse me,' he said.  'I have left my
handkerchief upstairs, and I will go and
fetch it.'

"He rose and vanished, and I turned to
the Minister for War.

"'Your Excellency will excuse me,' he
said.  'This is a matter which requires my
immediate attention.'

"And he also rose and disappeared in the
direction of the back door.

"So I sat alone in the great dining-hall
and awaited the intruders as calmly as the
Roman senators in olden times awaited the
invasion of the Gauls.  My arms were folded
and I hugged my cheque-book to my bosom.

"The noise came nearer, there were heavy
footsteps in the hall, the door burst open, and
the strangers entered.

"Imagine my consternation!  They were
Americans—serge-shirted, corduroy-breeched
desperadoes from California, and their leader
was no other than my old friend, Colorado
Charlie, he to whom I had confided the secret
of my plans when I made his acquaintance
in the train.  They advanced, firing their
guns as they came, picking off the glass
pendants of the chandeliers, as though to keep
their hands in or test their accuracy of aim.
Colorado Charlie, however, signalled to them
to stop, and stepped up and spoke to me,
saying simply—

"'Game's up, sonnie.  You've got to git.'

"I still sat on my carved mahogany chair,
like the Roman senator in the story, waiting
for the Gaul to pluck his beard.  Colorado
Charlie continued—

"'Seems you've been making a revolution
for Van Schuyler.  I'm here to make a
revolution for Van Tine.  Our methods were
diverse, but our object was the same.  First
it was you that came out on top, and now
it's me.  I ain't goin' to shoot unless
compelled, and if you git at once, I'll give you a
free passage back to Frisco'.

"My anger was aroused, but I felt that I
still held a trump card.  With a flourish of
my arm I drew my cheque-book and waved
it in the air.

"'Let us waste no time in bandying idle
words,' I said.  'I am here and I wish to
stay here; but I am willing to make it
worth your while to go.' For I had guessed
that money, and not honour, was the object
of Colorado Charlie's expedition; and his next
words showed that I had guessed rightly.

"'How much, sonnie?' he asked me curtly.

"I ran my eye rapidly over the counterfoils
to calculate the balance standing to my
credit.

"'Sixty-one thousand two hundred and
ninety-nine dollars,' I replied.

"'Right, sonnie.  Hand up the draft.'

"I gave it to him and once more breathed
freely.  He did not hurry like the Nicaraguans,
but strolled off slowly towards the
bank with about a dozen members of his
company.  The others remained, presumably
to keep an eye upon my movements.  I
invited them to drink my health—a thing
which, otherwise, they would doubtless have
done without my invitation—and promised
to treat them generously as soon as I had
the opportunity of cabling to New York for
further funds.  The idea appealed to them;
they were all willing to enlist under my
banner.  My cup of glory and happiness was full.

"And then Colorado Charlie re-entered and
dashed it from my lips.

"'It's no use, sonnie.  You've got to git,'
he said, handing me back my cheque.

"I protested energetically.

"'They refuse to honour my cheque?' I
exclaimed.  'There is some mistake here.
Come round to the bank with me and we
will see the manager.'

"Without further circumlocution he blurted
out the truth.

"'There ain't no manager, sonnie, and
there ain't no bank.  Seems you've been
dealing out drafts very freely all the morning,
and the holders have lost no time in cashing
them.  The sight of the crowd outside the
bank doors created a panic among the
inhabitants.  They started a run on the
bank for the purpose of withdrawing their
deposits, and the resources were unequal
to the strain.'

"'You mean to say——'

"'I mean to say that the bank is broke.
The manager and the clerks have gone up
country on important business, and a deputation
of the leading citizens is now engaged in
breaking up the premises.'

"So I perceived that I had played my
trump card without result.  I gasped and
my head fell forward on my chest.  Then I
made an effort and pulled myself together.
Though I had lost everything else, there was
no reason why I should lose my dignity as well.

"'I bow to fate,' I said.  'I yield to
circumstances.  History will do justice to
my memory.  In the meantime, sooner than
be a cause of bloodshed and dissension, I
agree to abdicate.'

"'Is abdicate the same as git?' asked
Colorado Charlie.

.. _`"'Is abdicate the same as git?' asked Colorado Charlie."`:

.. figure:: images/img-124.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "'Is abdicate the same as git?' asked Colorado Charlie."

   "'Is abdicate the same as git?' asked Colorado Charlie."

"I answered that the difference between
the two things was immaterial; and, dipping
my pen with dignity in the inkpot, I slowly
wrote as follows:—

.. vspace:: 1

"'*In order to save my country from the
unspeakable horrors of a civil war, I hereby
abdicate the position of President to which I
was about to be called on Sunday next by the
unfettered choice of the free and independent
citizens of the Republic of Nicaragua.  Je ne
boude pas; je me recueille.*

.. class:: noindent

'*Given under my hand and seal.*

.. class:: noindent

'JEAN ANTOINE STROMBOLI KOSNAPULSKI.'

.. vspace:: 1

"It was done.  Colorado Charlie took up
the paper, and read it through and expressed
his satisfaction.

"'That's the notion, sonnie,' he said.
'Shake hands on it, to show there's no ill
feeling'; and when I merely bowed stiffly,
holding my hand behind my back, he added—

"'Well, never mind about that, sonnie.
I understand your feelings.  Anyhow, I'm
going to give you a free passage back to
Frisco; and if you think that 500 dollars
will be of any use to you——'

"Though my pride was in revolt, I fought
it down and took the money, knowing that,
if I did not take it, I should land in San
Francisco penniless—a contingency which it
was desirable to avoid at any cost.

"And so my adventure ended—sad, yet
leaving a trail of glorious memory behind
it.  For I had made a revolution single-handed,
and enjoyed from twelve to three
o'clock in the afternoon the dignity of
President of a Republic."





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE MAN WITH THE ULTIMATUM`:

.. class:: center large

   THE MAN WITH THE ULTIMATUM.

.. vspace:: 2

Stromboli burst in upon me in a state of
exceptional excitement.  "Listen!" he cried,
gesticulating energetically; and I answered
that I had anticipated his wishes and was
already listening.

"I have news for you," he continued.

"What news?" I asked.

"I was already telling you when you
interrupted me," he replied.  "I have had an
idea, and with the rapidity of genius I have
carried it into execution."

"What sort of idea?"

"*Voyons*! an idea that was at once brilliant
and simple.  Let me explain."

"By all means do so."

"Then listen!  The great popularity of
the stories which I have been telling you
inspired me with the idea.  It occurred to
me, while I was occupied with my toilet, that
I might profitably address a larger audience.
I completed my toilet.  I put on my
hat.  I chased an omnibus.  It conveyed
me to the Waterloo Road, where I descended from it."

"A strange neighbourhood to seek," I interposed.

"You think so?  But I had my
plan.  I descended from the omnibus at
a door whereupon was a brass plate
bearing the words, 'Musical and Dramatic Agent.'"

"Heavens!" I ejaculated, beginning
to understand, and Stromboli proceeded—

"The door was open, and I walked in.  I
found myself in an antechamber, surrounded
by men with blue chins, and young women
with blue eyes and fair hair, who stared at
me curiously.  I took no more notice of them
than if they had been waxwork models, but
walked on to another door, leading to an
inner room.  A young man—a clerk of some
kind—presumed to bar my progress.  I swept
him before me and so forced my passage into
the presence of the 'Dramatic and Musical
Agent.'"

"I presume," I said, "that the 'Dramatic
and Musical Agent' was surprised to see you."

"Naturally.  'Who the dickens are you,
sir?' was his brusque but kindly greeting.
'Who should I be but Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski?' I replied.  'What do you
want here?' he asked inquisitively.  'I am
here to do business with you to our mutual
advantage,' I explained.  And with that I sat
down affably in his arm-chair and engaged
him in a serious conversation."

"What!" I explained.  "You don't mean
to tell me that you are going on the
music-halls in the character of a performing
Revolutionist?"

Stromboli seemed hurt.

"It has been arranged," he said, "that I
am to give a series of lectures on my
experiences at certain Palaces of Varieties.  The
general title of the series is to be, 'Disturbances
that I have Made.'  It is not precisely
what I contemplated in my youth; but it is
a way, like another, of making provision for
my age."

"Precisely," I said, seeing that it was
useless to argue with him.  "With which of
your thrilling experiences are you meaning
to begin?"

"With a certain further experience of a
Central American republic," Stromboli
answered.

"Your exploits in that quarter of the world
do not seem to have been of a very satisfactory
character," I objected.

"I certainly had my ups and downs there,"
Stromboli admitted.  "Central America is a
place where the unexpected happens on the
smallest provocation.  But that, I take it, is
no disadvantage from the story-teller's point
of view."

I frankly allowed that it was not.

"Then I will tell my new audiences," said
Stromboli, "how I once acted, in Central
America, in the capacity of a diplomatic
representative of Her Britannic Majesty."

"Good," said I.  "Will you rehearse the
lecture now?"

"It is for that very purpose that I have
come to see you," said Stromboli.

"Proceed," said I, and he proceeded with

.. vspace:: 1

.. class:: center

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MAN WITH THE ULTIMATUM.

.. vspace:: 1

"It has to be admitted—it has been
admitted—that my experiences as President of
the Republic of Nicaragua were not entirely
to my satisfaction.  It was also easy for me
to perceive that they were likely to entail a
coolness between myself and the confiding
capitalist whose money I had spent—a thing
to be avoided if I hoped to have the spending
of more of his money at some future time.

"'This must not be,' I said to myself.
'Something must turn up—if not in
Nicaragua, then elsewhere.  There are other
Central American republics besides Nicaragua,
and in all of them the career is open to the
talents.  But the adventure in which I next
engage must not be one involving the outlay
of large sums of ready money, seeing that
five hundred dollars is my present worldly
wealth.'

"Even as I was soliloquising, my
opportunity occurred.  Without immodesty I may
take some credit to myself for having
recognised that opportunity at a glance.  The
man who introduced it to my notice did not;
but, as I required his help, I soon explained
it to him.

"His name was Captain Shagg—which,
when you come to think of it, is every bit
as good a name as Cavendish—and he
commanded the little trading steamer on which
Colorado Charlie had given me my free
passage back to San Francisco.  Hardly had
we cleared Managua Harbour than he began
to beguile the time by passing criticisms on
Central American republics generally.

"'They're lively places, sir, lively places.
They may not be caught in the great
whirlpool of European complications; but they
don't stagnate, sir, they don't stagnate.  If
anyone was to come alongside and ask them
to stagnate, I sort of reckon they'd say they'd
see him hanged first.  Here in Nicaragua they
seem to be raising Cain with the generous
help of imported Amurrican citizens.  Over
in Salvador, from what they tell me, they're
raising Cain by their own individual efforts.'

"'This is very interesting,' I said.  'What's
happening in San Salvador?'

"'A revolution, sir—with trimmings.'

"'With what?' I repeated.

"'With trimmings, sir.  And when
I say trimmings, I mean shootings.
And I also mean destruction of property
and outrages on British and Amurrican
subjects.'

"'Did you hear the story in any detail,
captain?' I inquired.

"'Detail, sir?  Yards of it, from a dago
employed in the Amurrican Consulate, who
deserted his duties and came along here
because he was peaceably inclined.  He
told me that the American Consul was all
right, having started for his annual holiday
just before the bust up began, but the British
Vice-Consul had his house wrecked and
escaped to the mountains in his nightshirt.
He was only a dago, so I suppose the other
dagos thought they could do what they liked
with him.'

"'And has the British Navy no word to
say?' I interposed, and Captain Shagg
replied reflectively.

"'Wal,' he said, 'I guess there'll be a
tea party, not to say a picnic, when the
British Navy comes along.  But it ain't
there yet, and in the meantime the dago in
the nightshirt will be taking cold.  Strange
as it may seem, the Pacific Squadron is not
permanently stationed off the coast of Salvador."

"The outlines of my scheme had already
begun to sketch themselves in my brain.

"'I'll put another question to you,
captain,' I said.  'A well-informed man like
yourself might know where the nearest
British cruiser or gunboat is, and how soon
it is likely to arrive.'

"Captain Shagg mopped his brow and spat
upon the deck, as is the habit of American
seafarers when engaged in thought.

"'So far as I know,' he answered, 'the
nearest British gunboat is way down off
Colombia.  When it arrives at Libertad will
nat'rally depend upon when it starts.
Anyhow, I reckon it won't come alongside quite
so soon as the dago in the nightshirt would
like to see it.  And I also reckon that dago
wants to see it just as badly as he ever
wanted to see anything.'

"'You think it likely, then,' I continued,
'that we shall be off Libertad before the
gunboat?'

"'Why, certainly,' said Captain Shagg.

"Then I was able to fill in the outlines of
my scheme.

"'*Voyons*!' I said, 'the voice of duty
calls.  It would be possible, I take it, to
make such alterations in the appearance of
this steamer as would cause it to be mistaken
for a gunboat by persons whose acquaintance
with gunboats was not particularly extensive?'

"The captain spat again on the deck.
He also half closed one of his eyes and
concentrated the other upon me.

"'Stranger,' he said, 'I reckon that you
did not put that question to me merely out
of idle curiosity.'

"I half closed one of my own eyes, and
admitted that I had been actuated by a
higher motive.

"'You have a notion, likely?' he continued.

"'I do not waste words,' I rejoined
impatiently.  'I do not talk for the sake of
talking.  I am Jean Antoine——'

"'Jest so,' said Captain Shagg.  'You
have a notion.  I have no notions myself,
but I have grit.  And I'm a judge of notions—more
particularly over a glass of rum.  The
rum, stranger, is in my cabin.'

"He led the way to his cabin, and I
followed him.  He produced the rum, and
would not let me follow up the subject until
we had both drunk two stiff glasses of it,
explaining that, for a proper appreciation of
notions a clear head was necessary.  Then,
having filled the glasses for the third time,
he got to business.

"'Now, stranger, what is your notion?'
he inquired encouragingly.

"I answered by repeating my previous
question—

"'I must first know whether you can do
anything to this steamer to make it pass, at a
reasonable distance, and among comparatively
ignorant people, for a gunboat.'

"'Wal, yes,' said Captain Shagg.  'There's
Union Jacks; there's paint; there's timber
to make dummy guns.  Allowing that it was
worth while, I reckon it could be done.  But
what's your notion, stranger?'

"I explained that my notion was that
we should disguise the trading steamer as a
gunboat, fly the Union Jack, and proceed
to the port of Libertad as the plenipotentiary
representatives of the British Government.

"Captain Shagg tossed off his glass of rum
and shook hands with me in his enthusiasm.
"'*And* bring off the dago in the nightshirt?
*And* arrest the President?  *And* drill
a hole in him if he argues?  Sir, your notion
is equally creditable to your heart and to
your head.  Sir, it appeals to my chivalrous
instincts as an Amurrican citizen.  Sir, I tumble.'

"I was not positive that he had caught
my meaning quite so completely as he fancied.
For, as you shall see, the rescue of the British
Vice-Consul was not the only object that I
had in view.  As I had secured his co-operation,
however, it seemed superfluous to puzzle
him with further details, lest he should raise
objections.  It would be better, I felt, to
spring those details on him later, when there
was no time for argument.  In the meantime
we had plenty to do in deciding how certain
obvious obstacles should be overcome.

"First of all, I suggested, there were the
feelings of the crew to be considered; but it
appeared that this difficulty was not serious.

"'You leave the crew to me, stranger,'
said Captain Shagg.  'They're spoiling for
a fight, every man of them; and if they
weren't, I'd put a sense of dooty into them
till they were.'

"Thus reassured, I lifted my hat and bowed
in homage to this terrible disciplinarian.  He
acknowledged the compliment by filling up
my glass, and then raised an objection of his own.

"'Those dagos aren't very spry, he said,
'but they aren't absolute durned fools, either,
and it's more than likely they'll expect us
to show some sort of papers, just by way of
proving who we are, more especially as you
yourself, if I may say so, look more like a
Smoky Mountain prophet than a British naval
officer.'

"This time it was my turn to acknowledge
a compliment and reassure the captain.

"'What can have led you to imagine that
I propose to figure in the ridiculous light
of an ambassador without credentials?  It
would be too absurd.  Of course we shall
present credentials.'

"'Wal, we ain't got the real thing aboard
this ship, anyhow, I reckon,' said Captain
Shagg; and his stupidity amazed me.

"'Do you imagine that the newly elected
provisional President of the Republic of
Salvador would be likely to recognise the real
thing if it were shown to him?' I retorted.

"Maybe not,' said the captain, cautiously.
'But I'd guess it's likely there'd be
somebody mouching around who'd recognise the
substitute.'

"'You think so?'

"'Wal, why no?  There's the ship's papers—they'd
know those.  There's the log-book—they'd
know that.  There's my master's
certificate—that won't flummox 'em, either.'

"He was apparently intending to recite
the complete list of more or less official
documents on board his vessel; but I
interrupted him impatiently, drawing a
document from my own pocket.

"'No doubt they would know those
documents,' I said.  'No doubt they would
also recognise your Post Office Savings Bank
book, and your marriage settlement, and
your receipts for harbour dues, and your
tailor's bills, if those are documents which
you are in the habit of carrying about with
you.  But do you suppose the average newly
elected provisional President of the Republic
of Salvador is likely to recognise this?'

"And I unfolded my paper, which was
mounted on canvas, and read with solemn
emphasis—

.. vspace:: 1

"*Dieu et Mon Droit*.

"*We, John, Earl of Kimberley, Baron
Wodehouse, a Peer of the United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Ireland, and a Baronet,
a Member of Her Britannic Majesty's Most
Honourable Privy Council, a Knight of the
Most Noble Order of the Garter, Her Majesty's
Principal Secretary of State for Foreign
Affairs, etc., etc., etc.*

"*Request and require in the name of Her
Majesty all those whom it may concern to
allow Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski
(British subject) travelling on the Continent
to pass freely without let or hindrance and to
afford him every assistance and protection of
which he may stand in need.*

"*Given at the Foreign Office, London.*

.. vspace:: 1

"The American skipper listened and was
visibly impressed.  It looked as though his
eyeballs would start from their sockets in his
astonishment.  He banged the cabin table
with his first, exclaiming—

"'Snakes alive, man! that is the real thing,
ain't it?'

"I explained that it was merely an ordinary
Foreign Office passport, which I had acquired
through my banker when, for a brief period,
I had a bank account in London; but
Captain Shagg was not disheartened.

"'Wal,' he said, 'it bluffed me, anyhow.
And I conclude that what is good enough to
bluff me is good enough to bluff the dagos.
I'm with you, stranger, in your gallant
enterprise.  Full speed ahead!'

"I further pointed out that, in order to
carry conviction to the eye as well as to the
ear, the credentials of an envoy extraordinary
and minister plenipotentiary must be tied up
in green ribbon and fastened with green
sealing-wax; and Captain Shagg, with the
natural adroitness of the sailor man, showed
me how this could be managed.

"'I have no ribbon,' he said, 'but I can
make some out of the lining of my hat.  I
have no green sealing-wax, but I have plenty
of green paint.  It won't be the real thing,
any more than the papers are, but it will be
near enough for the dagos.  And now we'll
pipe all hands on deck and tell the crew just
what it's needful they should know."

"So, our plan being arranged, the
preparations for carrying it through were set in
hand at once.  We hove to in mid-ocean and
gave the ship a new coating of black paint;
we holystoned the deck: we smartened up
the vessel's rig; we painted some spare
spars and fixed up dummy guns; we lettered
H.M.S. *Terror* on the caps of the crew of the
gig; and we hoisted the Union Jack conspicuously.

"The result was satisfactory.  I do not
say we could have stood inspection by an
admiral; but there was no admiral to inspect
us.  Captain Shagg, at any rate, was gratified
and confident.

"''Tain't the real thing,' he repeated, 'but
it's near enough to bluff the dagos.  No dago
will express doubts as to the genuineness of
this show—more especially when he observes
that my hand is deep down in my revolver pocket.'

"And he added, summing up the situation
generally—

"'The proceedings may not be precisely
regular, but they are regular enough for
dagos.  On an errand of mercy, for the
purpose of rescuing a poor cuss catching cold
on the hillside in his nightshirt, other
considerations besides those of regularity must
be weighed.  I stand in with you, sir, in
this enterprise, which, as I have remarked,
does equal credit to your heart and to your
head: and if, as I venture to anticipate, the
British Government rewards you for your
noble conduct, I look to stand in with you
in that little matter also.'

"For Captain Shagg, as I have hinted,
was less quick-witted than myself.  He had
not yet gathered in what manner I proposed
to make the adventure profitable, and I did
not think it necessary to inform him before
the hour for taking profits came.

"As we conversed, however, we were
quickly nearing the Port of Libertad,
and the hour for stirring action was at hand.

"Steaming slowly, we selected a point of
vantage from which, if our guns had been
real guns, we could readily have shelled all
the principal public buildings of the
town—yet so far out that we could not be too
critically examined.  Then we manned a
boat with the most presentable of our sailors
and rowed ashore.

"'You do the palavering, stranger,' said
Captain Shagg.  'When the shooting begins,
I'll take a hand.  I may not have the
distinguished manners of an ambassador, but I
am uncommonly quick on the draw.'

"'You have only to put your trust in me,
and there will be no need for you to shoot,'
I replied.

"'Shooting is a language that goes without
the need of an interpreter,' Captain Shagg
protested.

"'So is my Spanish,' I answered proudly.

"'Go ahead, then!' said the captain; and
we went ahead.

"A courteous official in a ragged uniform
received us on the quay.  He represented
the Custom-house, and inquired whether we
had anything to declare.

"'Better shoot now, hadn't I, just to clear
the air a bit?' whispered the captain under
his breath; but I checked his enthusiasm
with an authoritative gesture and explained
the situation to the Custom-house official.

"The sight of the passport, with its green
ribbon and green paint, impressed him as we
had expected.  He bowed like a footman and
said he would summon a guard of honour to
conduct us to the presence of the President.
While we awaited the arrival of the guard of
honour I conversed with him, in order to
inform myself of the precise position of
affairs.

"'I understand,' I said gravely, 'that
there has lately been a change in the *personnel*
of your Executive.  Be good enough to tell
me exactly what has happened.'

"He told me, supplementing the story
which I had heard from Captain Shagg.
There had been a revolution—as I knew.
A President named Gomez had been
succeeded by a President named Gonzalez.  As
the President named Gomez had shown some
reluctance to retire, the President named
Gonzalez had been obliged to have him stood
against a wall and shot.  There had been
other rioting, but order was now restored.
The President named Gonzalez would
unquestionably be very happy to receive the
accredited representative of Her Britannic
Majesty's Government, and regard it as a
specially fortunate occurrence that he
happened to be at Libertad at the moment of our
arrival, so that he could see us there,
without troubling us to travel to San Salvador.

"'The pleasure will be mutual,' I replied
politely; and I had hardly made my answer
before the guard of honour came.

"It consisted of ten ragged soldiers smoking
cigarettes, and an officer, with plenty of
tattered gold braid, smoking a Mexican cheroot.
I showed the officer my embellished passport.
He examined the outside of it, and, being
satisfied that it was in order, introduced himself.

"'I am Colonel Sombrero, of the
President's bodyguard.' he said.  'If your
Excellency will do me the great honour of
accepting a cigar——'  I took one.  Captain
Shagg said that he preferred a pipe, and
lighted up.  The colonel seemed surprised at
his choice, but shrugged his shoulders in a
friendly manner, making allowance for the
peculiar tastes of foreigners.  He also said
he was sorry we had not announced our
intention of visiting the President, as in that
case there would have been a carriage waiting
for us.  In reply, I said that we were willing
to dispense with ceremony, because our
business was of a pressing character.  'In that
case,' said Colonel Sombrero, 'may I venture
to invite your Excellencies to be so infinitely
condescending as to ride with me to the Plaza
in a tramcar.'

"'A tramcar drawn by mules,' I answered,
'is a somewhat unusual conveyance for an
ambassador; but, our business being urgent,
we will waive the point.'

"So we got into the car with the officer,
while the men stationed themselves on the
platform beside the driver, and rattled
through the streets.

"It was only a ten minutes' ride.  Looking
out of the window as we jolted along we saw
many signs of the recent disturbances;
wrecked houses, pillaged shops, and here and
there a dead body being removed for burial.
But the disturbances themselves were over;
we had been correctly informed that order
was restored.

"A few minutes later we were ushered into
the presence of the man who had restored it.
He was a civilian, some five feet high, dressed
in a frock-coat that did not fit him, and a
pair of shabby trousers that had seen better
days; his collar and tie testified to a toilet
made in our honour.  The expression of his
face was not devoid of vigour, but cunning
was even more prominently marked upon it.
I towered conspicuously above him.

"'Attention!' called the colonel to his
men, and they arranged themselves in rows
on the two sides of the hall, still smoking
cigarettes—to smoke on duty being, as I am
told, the privilege of the soldiers in all the
Central American republics.

"President Gonzalez and I bowed to each
other with distinguished courtesy; Captain
Shagg also bowed after the usual careless
fashion of a seafaring man.  The colonel
pulled at his cheroot; the soldiers puffed
their cigarettes; and I proceeded to my
business without delay.

"'Here is the letter accrediting me to the
Government of your Excellency,' I said.  'If
your Excellency does not read English——'

"To my relief he shook his head.

"'Your Excellency will at least recognise
the British arms, and the sign manual of the
British Minister for Foreign Affairs.'

"His Excellency bowed again.  He said
he always had been and always should be
animated by the most friendly sentiments
towards Her Britannic Majesty's
Government; and as he said this he handed me
back my passport, which I thrust into my
pocket.

"'Your Excellency,' I proceeded, affably
but firmly, 'has now an opportunity for
demonstrating the genuineness of those
amicable sentiments.'

"He made a gesture as though to signify
that his entire possessions were at Her
Britannic Majesty's disposal.

"'The object of my mission,' I continued,
'is to draw the attention of your Excellency
to an outrage committed upon the person of
Her Britannic Majesty's Vice-Consul, and to
require immediate satisfaction.'

"To my amazement the President was not
at all embarrassed.  He smiled on me more
graciously than ever.

"'The outrage to which you refer,' he
said, 'was committed by the party of the
President whom I have succeeded.  I am
happy to inform you that ex-President Gomez
has already paid the penalty of his crime;
and your Vice-Consul—a gentleman for whom
I personally have a great affection and respect—is
now reinstated in his honourable office.'

"It was not what I had expected; and
Captain Shagg, to whom I interpreted the
speech, was absolutely dumfoundered by the
turn affairs were taking.

"'Why, durn,' he said, 'this dago's a
white man, after all.  We've come on a fool's
errand, and the sooner we quit, the better for
our health.  Else he'll fetch the other dago
along, and the game'll be blown upon, and
we'll have to start the shooting without the
moral support of a clear conscience.'

"I checked him, however, and introduced
the necessary modification into my plan.

"'Captain,' I said, 'it was arranged, I
think, that it was I who was to take control
of the details of this piece of business.'

"And to the President I replied—

"'Your Excellency must understand that
my instructions require me to verify your
Excellency's statement.'

"'Naturally,' he answered, with more
gracious affability than ever.

"'It is necessary that I should see and
speak with our Vice-Consul.'

"'Naturally.  He shall be fetched.

"'It will be necessary for me to speak with
him in private.'

"'By all means.  A room will be placed
at your disposition.'

"'And, after the interview, it will be desirable
that I should speak with your Excellency again.'

"'You will add to the favour for
which I am already indebted to you by
doing so.'

"The man's politeness was absolutely
irritating.  To Captain Shagg it seemed to
foreshadow danger.

"'Now what's this fool-game, stranger?'
he protested.

"'Wait,' I answered; 'the game is not
finished yet.'

"For, as I have said already, this captain
was a dull-witted though a determined man.

"My calm words quieted him, however;
he waited patiently, with his eye on the
President, and his hand in his revolver
pocket, while I conversed apart with the
Vice-Consul, and took him, as far as was
necessary, into my confidence.

"It would be superfluous to report our
rapid dialogue; it is enough to give the
Vice-Consul's answer to my arguments.

"'Señor,' he said, 'President Gonzalez is
my friend.  But justice is more to me than
friendship—especially as I am a poor man
with expensive tastes.'

"Strange words, you think?  Their meaning
will be clear enough when I relate what
happened at my second interview with the
President of the Republic.

"'Your Excellency,' I said, returning with
the Vice-Consul by my side, 'I have the
honour to inform you that I have now
completed my inquiries, and can give you my
decision in the matter.'

"His Excellency bowed and showed his
white teeth smilingly.  The soldiers stood
at attention, lighting fresh cigarettes from
the stumps of the old ones as they did so.
And then I showed my hand, and, so to say,
threw my bombshell.

"'The personal behaviour of your
Excellency in connection with the unfortunate
*contretemps* which has brought me here has
been beyond all praise.  I have the honour
to thank your Excellency in the name of Her
Britannic Majesty.'

"There was another bow and a fresh
display of gleaming teeth.

"'But,' I continued, 'I have the honour
to address your Excellency at the present
moment, not as private individual, but as
the representative of the State.  It must be
obvious to your Excellency that, in a civilised
country like the Republic of Salvador, the
responsibility for an outrage that has been
perpetrated does not disappear in consequence
of a change of Government.  Changes of
Government are too frequent in the Republic
of Salvador for that political doctrine to be
accepted, even by the representative of a
friendly Power.  On the contrary, the liability
remains, and the indemnity must still be paid.
In consideration, however, of the correct
behaviour of your Excellency in the matter,
I am prepared to fix that indemnity at the
very moderate sum of 50,000 dollars.'

"A word or two whispered in his ear by
the Vice-Consul had caused Captain Shagg
to listen carefully to my speech.  He did not
understand much of it, but he caught the
essential words, '50,000 dollars,' and his dull
intelligence at last grasped the true nature of
the business which he was assisting me to
carry through.  He went so far as to withdraw
his hand from his revolver pocket and
slap his thigh, exclaiming—

"'Bully for you, stranger!  You're a
dandy!  Durned if I ever guessed——'

"'Hush!' I said, fearing lest his strange
manners should arouse suspicion; and he
stopped and put his hand back into his
revolver pocket in readiness for emergencies,
while I turned to the President, saying,
'Your Excellency's reply?'

"He shrugged his shoulders, laughed,
pretended to think that I was joking with him.
I went on sternly—

"'Your Excellency must understand that,
though I speak in the polished phrases of
diplomatic intercourse, my demand is, in
fact, of the nature of an ultimatum, failure
to comply with which will entail a rupture
of amicable relations.'

"Not knowing what else to say,
the President said that the rupture
of friendly relations would be painful
to him.

"'It will be the more painful,' I said,
pointing through the open window to where
our steamer flew the Union Jack.  'It will
be the more painful in that its first
consequence will be the bombardment of this
port, and the destruction of all the public
buildings.'

"For the first time in the course of the
interview the President began to show his
temper.

"'It might also result,' he said, 'in your
being taken straight out into the courtyard,
blindfolded, and shot.'

"Captain Shagg caught the essential word
'shot,' and once more interposed.

"'Shall I draw?' he said.  'It's wonderful
how reasonable a man'll get sometimes when
you have got the draw on him.'

"'Keep quiet!' I urged.  'There won't be
any shooting.'

"And I once more eyed the President
carefully and took his measure.

"He hardly looked a coward.  Beneath
the manners of an attorney he probably
concealed the natural ferocity of the average
Spanish American.  Unless the captain got
the draw on him, and deterred him, it was
conceivable (though not very likely) that he
might carry out his threat.  There was also
the chance that he might be just obstinate
enough to refuse to give way until the shells
actually began to burst about his ears—which
would have been awkward, as we had neither
shells nor guns on board the little San
Francisco trading steamer.

"Once more, therefore, it was
necessary for me to modify my plan; and
I modified it on the spur of the moment
on lines suggested by my recent Nicaraguan
experiences.

"'Your Excellency,' I began, 'our lives are
no doubt in your hands.  But the whole
might of the British Empire is behind
us, and if you lay a finger on us, you are
putting your own head into the hangman's noose.'

"He was obviously frightened.  But it still
was not quite certain that he would give way.
He might merely escort us politely to our
boat, and then withdraw out of the range of
shell-fire, leaving the buildings to take care
of themselves.  So I played the last trump card.

"'On the other hand, if we were alone, your
Excellency,' I added, with the sort of smile
that the Central American understands, 'if we
were alone, I might be able to suggest——'

"He motioned to the soldiers to go and
smoke their cigarettes outside, and then I
spoke to him quite frankly, without troubling
to wrap up my meaning in nice diplomatic
phrases.

"'You're not President of this Republic
for the benefit of your health, I take it,'
I said.  'No.  You've taken the Presidency
for what you can make out of it.  The salary
is not large, but there are perquisites.'

"He smiled, beginning to catch my
meaning, which I soon made absolutely clear.

"'Very well,' I continued.  'Your Excellency
imagined, perhaps, that it was the
intention of Her Britannic Majesty's Government
to fine your country without recognising
the service which you yourself have rendered.
I hasten to inform your Excellency that this
is not the case.'

"His Excellency's smile was now broadening
to a grin.

"'My proposal is, therefore,' I proceeded,
'to increase the damages to the sum of
60,000 dollars—this sum to include a sum
of 10,000 dollars by way of honorarium for
your Excellency.'

"The President of the Republic of Salvador
stroked his chin reflectively.

"'If you had said 75,000 dollars——' he
began at length.  I paused, weighed the point,
and answered gravely.

"'Including 25,000 for your Excellency?
It is a great deal.  But I suppose I must
strain the point—on condition, of course,
that the money is brought to me immediately,
and in cash.'

"'I was hoping,' said the President, 'that
my own cheque for the amount——'

"'I said cash, your Excellency,' I repeated.

"'Or our notes? they are so much less
cumbersome than our dollars.'

"'Cash, your Excellency.  And it must be
fetched from the bank and wheeled down to
the quay for us at once.'

"'You drive a hard bargain, but I must
perforce accept it,' said his Excellency.

"'And my gun'll cover the dagos in charge
of it, by way of keeping them out of
temptation,' said Captain Shagg.  And then he
clapped me on the back, crying——

"'Fifty thousand dollars to cut up
between three of us!  You're a dandy, stranger,
you're a dandy!'

"But alas! his tone was different when, a
few hours later, having steamed far away
from the Port of Libertad, we had hauled
down the Union Jack and assembled in his
cabin to apportion the indemnity.  For then
he stamped upon the floor, and banged upon
the table, and knocked the glasses over, and
used words which I must not repeat.

"'Compose yourself, captain.  What is
it?' I inquired.

"'What is it?  Why, in the whole of this
pile of dollars there ain't one honest piece.
I mean to say that they ain't the real thing,
any more than your papers and my ship were.
They're just struck to unload on gambling-hells.
It's one of the industries of that cursed
country.'

"It was my turn to be angry.

"'You knew that,' I cried, 'and you never
warned me!  You dolt!  You thickhead!
You unconscionable scoundrel!'

"My passion got the better of me.  I
flew at him, and we wrestled together on
the floor, while the Vice-Consul whom we
had rescued pointed out a better way.

.. _`"We wrestled together on the floor."`:

.. figure:: images/img-160.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "We wrestled together on the floor."

   "We wrestled together on the floor."

"'Listen to me!  Listen to me!' he cried.
'I know the gambling-houses where they buy
those moneys.  I'll take you there to sell
them!  I'll get you a good price.'

"And so he ultimately did.  He got us, in
fact, a good deal more than we should have
expected.  But Captain Ulysses P. Shagg and
Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski were
never very good friends afterwards."





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE FRIEND OF THE POLICEMAN`:

.. class:: center large

   THE FRIEND OF THE POLICEMAN.

.. vspace:: 2

It was the morning after the Anarchist Club
had been raided by the police.  I was sitting
up in my bed, reading the graphic account
of the occurrence in the morning paper, when
the door opened and Stromboli himself burst
into my bed-chamber.

"Hullo!" I ejaculated.  "So you have
found bail!  I was rather expecting that
you would come to me for it!"

"I should have," was the reply, "if I had
needed it."

"You did not need it?  You mean that
you managed to escape?"

"Precisely.  Do I not know the tramp of
a policeman when I hear it?  Are not his
boots made so that all the world shall know it?"

"Ah! then——"

"I was wise in time.  Leaping on to a
table, I shouted to my friends: 'We are
discovered.  This way for the back door.
Follow me, and I will lead you to a place of
safety.'  Then I fled, and, as you see, I
reached a place of safety.  But alas!  I
reached it alone.  The others, my followers,
were caught.  I weep for them."

"It is unnecessary," I explained.  "The
English law is lenient in these matters.  A
small fine will see them through their
troubles."

My words failed to produce the comforting
effect which I intended.

"If only I had known that!" Stromboli
answered, and hung his head dejectedly.

"Yes?  In that case?" I asked.

"In that case," he answered, "I should
not have been in so great a hurry; and if I
had not been in so great a hurry, I should
not have left my purse on the piano."

"You did that?"

"I did that, having just taken it from my
pocket for the purpose of paying for some
refreshments.  It contained the money which
I had set aside for the satisfaction of the
claims of my more pressing creditors.  I shall
have sleepless nights in consequence."

"So, I dare say, will they," I interposed;
and the remark seemed to exhibit the situation
to Stromboli in a light in which he had
never previously looked at it.

"You really think so?" he answered
sympathetically.  "Then I am indeed
distressed for them.  I should have remembered
that creditors as well as debtors might
have their pecuniary embarrassments.  If I
could be of any service to them—if, for
example, by telling another story——"

"Then you still know other stories?"

Stromboli jerked his head disdainfully,
saying—

"If I know other stories!  When I tell
you that it was I who, at the time of the
Commune of Paris——  But—*voyons, mon
cher*—I have not yet breakfasted."

I took the hint and rang the bell.

"I thank you," said Stromboli.  "I will
have bacon and eggs for breakfast.  It is a
comestible of your country for which I have
acquired a taste.  Though I eat while telling
you my story, yet I am an artist, and you
may depend upon it that my mouth will not
be full at any climax of my narrative."

"Then fire ahead!" said I, and
Stromboli fired ahead, plying his knife and fork
diligently while he unfolded—

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THE ADVENTURE OF THE FRIEND OF THE POLICEMAN.

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"You think it singular that a revolutionist
should have feelings of friendship for a
policeman?  Singular it is, and only possible upon
one condition—that the policeman's daughter
is beautiful, and that the revolutionist is in
love with her.  I myself—I, whom policemen
yesterday pursued through the kitchen and
offices to the back door, was at the time of
the siege of Paris in love with the daughter
of a *sergent de ville*.

"Her name was Fifine, and she was more
beautiful than I can tell you—dark, with
bright eyes, and a complexion like a peach
in bloom, and the tender, coaxing manner
which a man delights in.  Her father, the
Père Dubois, occupied an apartment in the
same house with me at Montmartre; and as
he was aware of my desire for the regeneration
of the world, ferocious pleasantries used
to pass between us.

"'*Voyons*, rascal!' he used to say to me.
'If it were not that Fifine would cry, I would
march you straight off to the *depôt* and have
you locked up there, so that you could do no
harm.'

"'Old man!' I answered.  'If it were not
that Fifine would cry, then I would pluck you
by that nose of yours and drag you along the
*boulevard*, an object of derision to all Paris.'

"'Name of a dog!' he retorted.

"'Name of a pipe!' I rejoined.  And then
I conciliated him.

"'Come now,' I said.  'For Fifine's sake,
let us be friends.  For Fifine's sake, let us
swear a great oath, like the Homeric heroes,
that if ever we meet in a battle, or even in a
riot, we will spare each other.'

"The Père Dubois knew but little of the
Homeric heroes, though he understood that
they had distinguished themselves in the
Napoleonic wars.  None the less, he swore
the oath over a good bottle of red wine,
concluding philosophically—

"'Fifine is a good girl.  I trust her.  I
shall tell her what to say to you, and she
will reclaim you and make a good citizen of
you yet.'

"To which I replied—

"'Père Dubois, you are very amiable.  In
compliance with your wishes, I will take
quiet walks with Mademoiselle Fifine in the
sheltered woods of the Buttes Chaumont,
so that she may have every opportunity
of converting me to your views.  If the
weather is fine, we will take such a walk
to-morrow.'

"He grunted, but agreed.  Perhaps, if he
could have foreseen—but it is seldom given
to a policeman to see as far into the future
as a revolutionist.  And now, perhaps, you
picture Fifine imploring me with persuasive
tears to turn my back upon the revolution
and apply for a post in the *gendarmerie*!
Then you do not know human nature; you
do not know women; you do not know Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski!

"What is it that a woman likes in a man?
She likes him to be different from all other
men.  She likes him to be strong and
masterful, taking his own course and towing her
like a little pinnace in his wake.  If need
be, she will even pique him to perversity;
though, in my case, that necessity did not
arise.  So you must not be astonished when
I tell you what Fifine actually said to me was—

"'How wonderful to be a revolutionist!
Please tell me all about revolutions.  I never
met a revolutionist before.'

"She said it, clinging trustfully to my
arm, while we walked together on the high,
green hill of the Buttes Chaumont.  All
Paris was stretched out below us like a map.
The blue smoke floated upwards from the
chimneys in the autumn air.  A misty haze
obscured the view beyond the ramparts, and
the booming of the big guns of Mont Valerien
was the only sign of war; but from the streets
ascended a confused hum of angry voices—the
noise which, in Paris, expresses the
discontent which the man of action can turn into
a revolution almost by a gesture.  In truth,
it was high time for another revolution, and
here was Fifine pressing me with her questions—

.. _`"We walked together on the high, green hill."`:

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   :alt: "We walked together on the high, green hill."

   "We walked together on the high, green hill."

"'Please tell me all about revolutions.
Please tell me what a revolution looks like.'

"Curious, is it not, that by such artless
speeches women win men's hearts?  One
wonders if they know it.  I answered, half in
jest, while pondering a project in my mind—

"'A revolution, *amie chérie*?  It is the
simplest matter in the world.  You get up
in the morning feeling discontented, and
decide that the Government must be
overthrown.  Other people are of the same
opinion.  You leap upon a *café* table and
harangue them until you have stirred them
to the depths of their souls; then you say,
"To the Hôtel de Ville!"  Some of you
march thither, while others go into the
churches and ring bells.  The procession
swells in volume; you call upon the soldiers
to fraternise with you; the constituted
authorities disappear through the back door.
You write names on slips of paper and toss
them out of the window.  This is the list
of the new Government.  It is all over in
the twinkling of an eye.'

"'How wonderful!' Fifine ejaculated,
opening her eyes wide.

"A sudden idea came to me, and I acted
upon it.

"'My angel!' I cried.  'I have told you
what a revolution looks like.  Now come
with me, and I will show you one.'

"She looked amazed; it may be that she
had reason to.  It was such a chance as
does not often come the way of the daughter
of a *sergent de ville*.  But I appealed to her
curiosity.

"'Listen!' I said.  'You hear that noise?'

"She nodded.

"'Well, sweetheart,' I continued, 'whenever
I hear that noise in Paris, I can turn it
into a revolution in ten minutes.'

"'How wonderful!' she once more repeated.

"'Come and see,' I answered, and her
curiosity prevailed over her years.  We ran
down the hill together, and in a few minutes
were in the stormy streets of Paris.

"It was as I thought.  The people of Paris
were angry because the pinch of hunger was
making itself felt.  They were gathering in
little knots, and someone was already
haranguing them from a *café* table; but he was
unworthy of the occasion, being drunk, so I
pushed him down gently, amid applause, and
took his place.

"'Why do we talk,' I cried, 'when the
hour for action has arrived?  The Government
does nothing.  Instead of driving away
the Prussians, it deliberates.  It is in no
hurry, because it possesses secret stores of
food; but we, in the meantime, what have
we to eat?'

"'Rats!  *En voilà un*!' one of my audience
shouted, tossing a choice specimen across to me.

"I caught it dexterously and put it in my
pocket.  Then I went on—

"'You tolerate such a Government!  You
are willing that it should continue to rule
you—to betray you!  No, no!  A thousand
times no.  You will sweep it away and govern
Paris by yourselves.  But there is no time
to lose.  To the Hôtel de Ville, my comrades!
To the Hôtel de Ville!'

"Tame words, you may think, as I recite
them to you now, in times of peace; but
then they were burning words that caused
men's blood to boil.

"'To the Hôtel de Ville!' the Belleville
workmen echoed, and the mob became
organic, and we marched.

"Imagine that march!  Beginning as a
small procession, it grew into a mighty mob,
with red flags flying and a brass band playing;
and at the head of it, Fifine and I walked,
arm-in-arm.  She was afraid, but she
was curious; her curiosity was stronger
than her fears.  Ah, she was a true woman,
was Fifine!

"'Oh! it is wonderful,' she kept repeating.
'I suppose it is wrong; but it is wonderful,
all the same.'

"And no one laughed to see her.  For
those were sentimental days, when every
revolutionist rejoiced to have a woman
associated with him in his enterprise.  It
was as though some master of the ceremonies
had said—

"'Your partners, gentlemen!  Take your
partners for the Carmagnole.'

"So we swayed on, in ever-swelling
numbers, until the Hôtel de Ville was reached.
A crowd was already besieging its doors and
swarming up its stairs.  It seemed, for the
moment, as though I—I who had instigated
this revolution—should be unable to get
access to the building.  But I called in a
commanding tone—

"'Room there!  Room for a lady!  Room
for Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski!'

"They fell back, as far as it was possible,
and cleared a space for me.  With Fifine still
upon my arm, I jostled my way into the
famous Hall of the Mayors.  It took time,
but at last we got there.  Let me try and
draw the picture for you.

"A large, long room, with portraits of
celebrated citizens of Paris hanging on its
walls.  At one end of the room a large
semi-circular table with the Mayors of Paris
seated at it; the President in the midst of
them, pale and indignant.  The rest of the
room packed with a crowd of revolutionists,
women as well as men, all talking loudly at
once, and a few *sergents de ville* among them,
disarmed and overmastered, but unable to
escape.  And, struggling against the tumult,
the rumour gradually spread itself from mouth
to mouth—

"'The Breton Mobiles!  They are coming
to the rescue of the Mayors.'  One saw the
point of that.  At all events, I saw it, even
if the others did not.  The Breton Mobiles
understood no word of French—understood
nothing but their own uncouth Celtic tongue.
It would be useless to harangue them on the
sacred right of insurrection and appeal to
them to fraternise with people.  They would
sweep on, with fixed bayonets, driving the
Parisians before them, blind, deaf, implacable
as Destiny itself.  For once in my life I
perceived failure in front of me, and I felt that
I owed Fifine an apology.

"'Dear angel,' I said to her, 'this is not
so brilliant a revolution as I could wish, but
it shall have its dramatic climax, all the same.
Observe!'

"Then I continued to elbow my way to
the front, exclaiming—

"'Room there!  Room for a lady!  Room
for Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"The crowd parted as before, and I found
myself close to the table of the Mayors, with
the pale face of the President immediately
in front of me.  I pulled the rat out of my
pocket and tossed it to him, saying—

"'Thanks to your incapacity, the people
of Paris are eating rats.  In the name of
the Republic, I call upon you to eat a rat
yourself.'

"The people who heard me cheered, but
the Mayor of Paris tried to fling the rat back
into my face.  I caught it in my right hand
and tendered it to him again with dignity.

"'Be reasonable,' I said.  'It is a present
from Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.
As those English say, you must put the
gift-horse in your mouth.  In the name of the
Republic, I call upon you to eat the rat
before us all, and to pretend that you enjoy it.'

"A tremendous cheer broke from the
assembled revolutionists.  They shook their
fists in his face and roared—

"'Let him eat the rat!  Let him eat the rat!'

"He ate it, and we cheered him.  Perhaps
he was hungry, and needed it, for, owing to
the disturbances, he had been a long time
without refreshment; and though, to do him
justice, he made little pretence of appetite,
one of the women—a good, thrifty soul—could
not resist exclaiming—

"'What a waste of a good rat!  Why do
you throw it away on him, when the people
of Paris are hungry?'

"That, however, was a question which, in
spite of its importance, I had no time to
answer.  At last the Mobiles were coming—the
Breton Mobiles, with whom it was impossible
for the Revolutionists to fraternise,
because they did not know their language.
There was no purpose to be served by staying
any longer, the more especially as I had a
lady in my charge.

"'Dear angel,' I whispered to Fifine,
'there is no more revolution to be seen
to-day.  I will make haste and take you home.'

"It was more easily said than done, but I
was not a man to be deterred by obstacles.
I shouted as before—

"'Room there!  Room for a lady!  Room
for Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski!'

"And room was made.  I myself helped
to make it, by pushing vigorously with my
strong arms.  As the Bretons were entering
by one door, Fifine and I were issuing by
another.

"It was all over—for the time.  Many
arrests were made; but, in the confusion,
Fifine and I escaped arrest, and it was not
until the next day that I knew that my
behaviour had been remarked by any public
functionary.  Then, however, I had a passage
of arms with the Père Dubois.

"'Rascal!' he said.  'I saw you.'

"'How now?  What do you mean, Père
Dubois?' I asked.

"'I was in the Hôtel de Ville, disarmed
and helpless.  But I saw you, and now I go
to denounce you to the Government.'

"I looked him straight and fearlessly in
the eyes.

"'Remember your pact with me, Père
Dubois,' I said.

"'My pact?' he repeated.

"'The pact we swore, like the Homeric
heroes, that, even in a revolution, we
would spare each other.  This time, as the
revolution has failed, it is I who am
the gainer by it.  Presently, when the
revolution is successful, it will be your
turn to profit.'

"His eyes fell before my gaze as he replied—

"'If it were not for Fifine's sake, I would
not do it.'

"To which I answered—

"'If it were not for Fifine's sake, I would
not ask you.'

"'You think, then,' he continued scornfully,
'that the day will come when it will
be in your power to serve me?'

"'I am quite sure of it,' I answered, 'and
when it comes, you may rely upon me.  Let
us shake hands.'

"So we shook hands, and an armed truce
was restored between us; and the days rolled
by, until the last great day came when I was
called upon to fulfil my obligations.

"Most of the events of those days belong
to history.  You know how the Prussians at
last starved Paris into surrender.  You know
how we Communists seized the reins of
Government in the month of March.  You
know how Paris was besieged a second time,
and how the barricades sprang up, and how
there were bloody battles in the streets.  I
have nothing new to tell you of these things.
I have only to tell you of the service which I,
at the last, rendered to the father of Fifine.

"Fifine herself had been sent to visit
friends in the country.  Safe-conducts being
hard to get, it had been necessary to lower
her in a basket over the ramparts after
nightfall.  I well remember my last talk
with her before, with no more luggage than
she could carry on her arm, she disappeared
into the darkness.

"'Sweetheart,' she said, 'I thought that
revolutions were wonderful, but now I only
find them terrible.'

"'Sweetheart,' I answered, quoting the
proverb, 'how shall we make an omelette
without breaking eggs?'

"That was too deep for her.  She did not
even ask whether the omelette was worth
the broken eggs, but came to the point
without either metaphor or simile.

"'Dearest,' she pleaded, 'I saw you begin
the revolution.  Can't you promise, for my
sake, that you will stop it?'

"I shook my head sadly.  It was hard
for me, as you can judge, to confess that she
had asked me a thing which it was beyond
my power to do for her.

"'Dear angel,' I answered, 'the revolution
is irresistible as the rising tide.  A man may
have the power to start it, but no man has
the power to stay it.'

"'But my father!' she pleaded.  'Tell
me!  The revolutionists have no love for
the police?'

"I was obliged to own, however regretfully,
that they had not.  For what have
policemen ever done, that revolutionists
should love them?

"'But, dear angel,' I added, 'one may
make exceptions, if only for the sake of
proving rules.  I wield influence, as you
have seen, and I will use it.  They shall not
hurt one hair upon the Père Dubois's head.'

"Then we kissed each other and said
good-bye.  Fifine disappeared, lowered over the
ramparts by a sentinel; and it was only two
days afterwards that the Versailles soldiers
entered Paris, and the fighting in the streets
began.  I do not describe it to you.  I do
not boast.  One brave man behind a barricade,
I take it, is very like another.  The tide
of battle rolled us back from street to street.
The traitors slunk away and hid themselves.
The day came when we were only a handful
of men, hemmed in by an army.  Driven
from my lodging in Montmartre, I found a
garret to sleep in in Belleville.  I was there,
snatching the few hours' rest which I had
earned, when a child found me, and thrust
a note, hastily scrawled in pencil, into my hand.

"It was from the Père Dubois.  How he
had found the means of sending it I do not
know; but this is what he said—

"'I am a prisoner of the Commune, locked
up with forty other *sergents de ville* at La
Roquette.  Your Communists are murdering
their prisoners.  For the love of God remember
your promise to me before it is too late!'

"My mind was made up instantly.  Until
then I had supposed that a prison was the
safest place in Paris in which a *sergents de ville*
could find himself; but since this was
not so, I knew how to act.

"Springing from my truckle-bed, upon
which I lay only half undressed, I put on
my frock-coat and my silk hat, and knotted
my red sash round my waist.  Then I
hurried down seven flights of stairs and
almost ran into the arms of our leader,
Citizen Ferré.

"'Well, Ferré, how goes it now?' I asked him.

"'Badly,' he answered.  'It is all over
with us.  The Versaillais press us hard.  We
have only just time to kill the prisoners.'

"At first I did not take him seriously.

"'Is that the way to raise the tone of
revolutions?'

"He answered grimly—

"'Perfectly.  We have dealt with the
Archbishop; we have dealt with the
*gendarmes*.  If we make haste, we shall just
have time to deal with the *sergents de ville*.'

"His brutal words horrified me, but I
temporised.  Time was precious, and I would
waste none of it in wrangling.  If it had
only been the life of an ordinary hostage—an
archbishop, for example—that was at
stake, I do not say; but the life at issue was
the life of the father of Fifine.  Therefore,
as I have said, I temporised.

"'You are right, Citizen Ferré,' I replied.
'We must indeed be quick.  Let us see which
of us can be the quicker.  I will race you to
the prison of La Roquette.'

"'Good,' he replied, and we both began
to run with all our speed.  Picture us; for
the picture must indeed have been a strange
one.  The enemy surrounded us, and the
crack of rifles and the screech of *mitrailleuses*
sounded from the barricades on every side.
The rival batteries on the Buttes Chaumont
and the Buttes Montmartre hurled their shells
all over Paris.  Red flames and black clouds
of smoke arose from the Tuileries, from La
Villette, from the Hôtel de Ville, from blazing
buildings in every quarter of the city.  Dead
bodies of men and horses lay here and there
upon the pavements.  Mattresses were piled
up at the windows to serve as a screen against
the bullets.  And, in the midst of this, Citizen
Ferré and I—he in his soldier's uniform, and
I in my frock-coat and silk hat—raced each
other to the prison of La Roquette.  I was
fleet of foot in those days, and I outstripped
him.  Dashing through the open gate in the
prison yard, I called—

"'Where are the prisoners of the Commune?
Where are the *sergents de ville*?'

"There was no need to ask the question.
I could see the heads of several of them at
the windows of the cells.  So I continued—

"'I have the order for them to be shot.
Let me go up to them and I will tell them
to come down.'

"The words were saluted by a bloodthirsty
cheer.  It occurred to no one to dispute my
authority or ask a question.  The key
was handed to me and I went up to the
second storey and entered the door of
the long corridor in which their cells
were situated.

"'Gentlemen,' I began.  'I am Jean Antoine——'

"Before I could say more, a dozen strong
arms had gripped me and thrown me on the
ground, and my wrists were tied fast with a
handcuff improvised from a piece of string.

"'A hostage!  We also have a hostage,'
they cried in an exultant chorus.

"Then, just as I was fearing more rough
usage, I heard the voice of Père Dubois.

"'Be gentle with him.  He is a friend of
mine.  Hear what he has to say.'

"So the policeman who was seated on my
chest got up again, and I was able to proceed—

"'Gentlemen,' I gasped.  'Citizen Ferré
is on his way here to have you shot.  I
raced him here that I might warn you.  I
am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"They looked inquiringly at me and at
each other, and in the meantime there came
what looked suspiciously like proof that I
was lying.  Ferré had, at last, arrived, and
a fresh messenger came to the entrance of
the corridor; though, with greater caution
than I had shown, he only spoke through
the keyhole.

"'The order has come that all the prisoners
of the Commune are to be released.  Descend
at once, and you can go free.'

"Some of them flashed a look of triumph
on me, seeming to expect that I would blush
for shame.  But I did not blush.  I sprang
up and stood with my back to the door, and
retorted hotly—

"'Idiots!  Are you taken in, then, by a
simple trick like that?  It is a lie to get you
down into the courtyard, and shoot you the
more easily.'

"This gave them pause.

"'There's reason in that,' they said.  'No
doubt the hostage knows the nature of the
Communists.  But what to do?'

"I was impatient.

"'What to do?' I shouted.  'Do you
want a revolutionist to tell you what to do?
Barricade yourselves, idiots.  Barricade
yourselves, and stand siege till the Versaillais
come.'

"Their good sense prevailed; they jumped
at the suggestion.

"'It is an idea; let us barricade ourselves.
Untie the hostage's hands, that he may help.'

"It was done, and I, who had shown the
people how to build so many barricades in
the streets, now taught these forty-two
policemen to build a barricade in the corridor of
the prison of La Roquette.  We made it by
taking the mattresses from the beds in the
cells, and laying them one upon another
carefully and symmetrically, as one builds a
wall with bricks.  The barrier was so high
that no one could climb over it; so thick
that no bullet could pass through it; so solid
that it could only be pulled down, piece by
piece, by unmolested labourers; and scarcely
had we finished it before we found the need
of it.  We heard the voice of Citizen Ferré
himself, no longer promising safe-conduct or
immunity.

"'Since you won't come out of it by
yourselves, we'll have to fetch you out.  Charge,
my lads, charge, and we'll treat them as we
did the *gendarmes* in the Rue Haxo.'

"Hurling themselves against our woollen
wall, they tried to push it before them by
sheer weight.  It did not yield an inch.
Was it not built by a revolutionary leader?
And were there not forty-two *sergents de ville*
supporting it with their weight upon the other side?

"'Pull it down, bit by bit, from the top,
then,' Ferré shouted; and we heard a noise
as of a man being hoisted on to another's
shoulders, and, for an instant, had a glimpse
of a villainously ugly face between the barrier
and the ceiling.

"But only for an instant.  Père Dubois—he
also hoisted on to a neighbour's
shoulders—hurled at the man a piece of crockery
intended for a very different purpose.  It
smote him full upon the jaw, knocking teeth
down his throat.  Swearing a terrible oath,
he disappeared, and no one took his place.
Carried away by the joy of battle, I shouted
to the Communist, who had so lately been
my friend and ally—

"'Citizen Ferré!  Is this the way you
raise the tone of revolutions?'

"'Pig!  We are not beaten yet,' my old
friend answered; and, as we heard him
retreating down the staircase, we wondered what
fresh devilry he had in his mind.

"Presently we heard a fresh noise above
our heads.  Somebody was breaking through
the ceiling.  Armed though we were, after a
fashion, with cudgels and lances, which we
had made by breaking up the woodwork of
the beds, we knew that we could not hold
out long against an assault from that place
of vantage.  There seemed nothing to be
done save to sell our lives as dearly as we
could.  But, just as we had made up our
minds to this, we heard a voice that reassured us.

"'Hush!  Do not be afraid!  We are
your fellow-prisoners.'  And the head which
revealed itself through the broken planks—the
head at which Père Dubois was preparing
to hurl a fresh piece of crockery—proved to
be the head of one of the parish priests of
Belleville, whom the Communists had locked
up as their hostages.  The *sergents de ville*
greeted him with shouts of welcome.

"'Listen!' said the good old man.  'We
have barricaded ourselves, and shall fight for
our lives if need be.  But, in the meantime,
as your lives also are in danger, we would
strengthen you with our prayers and with our
blessing.  Kneel, my brothers, kneel.'

"We knelt.  It was a strange ceremony—such
a ceremony as has never been, perhaps,
in the world, before or since.  There was no
confession.  The time was precious and too
short for that.  But, as we fell upon our
knees and bowed our heads, the holy man
solemnly pronounced absolution and chanted
benediction.  Even I—Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski, of whom priests in a general
way do not approve—took absolution and
benediction with the rest.  Then the cry was
raised—

"'Look out!  They are returning!'

"We went to our post again, wondering
what fresh device our enemies had hit upon.
It was not long before we knew.  They
had released the convicts—the thieves and
murderers who had been in prison long
before the Commune made special prisoners
of its own—and had enlisted them as willing
allies against their natural enemies, the
*sergents de ville*.  We heard them fraternising
in the yard.

"'Long live the Communists!' cried the one.

"'Long live the convicts!' replied the others.

"And then, once more, we heard the brutal
voice of Citizen Ferré—

"'Now, pigs!  Your hour is come.  Since
you won't come out any other way, we're
going to burn you out.'

"In another instant they had poured
petroleum over our mattress barricade and
set light to it.  It burnt slowly, for wool,
packed close, is but a poor combustible, and
there was no draught to coax the flames.  The
whole corridor, however, was filled with a
suffocating stench.  We coughed and choked,
though we had burst every window open.  It
was only a question of time.  Our barricade
must ultimately yield to this attack.

"'Water!  Oh, for water!' was the cry
that went up on every hand.  We had no
water save the filthy stuff in which the
prisoners had washed, over and over again,
since their cells had last been cleaned.  So
far as we could, we soaked the mattresses
with these slops.  They added to the stench,
but hardly helped to quench the fire.  With
luck we might hold out for half an hour.
Longer we could not hope to hold.

"The *sergents de ville* were losing heart and
energy.  They had thrown themselves on the
floor, because the smoke was less there, and
lay about the passage like so many dying
men.  And Père Dubois whispered to me—

"'Oh, think of something!  For Fifine's
sake, think of something!'

"An inspiration came to me.  I ran to the
window, braving the risk of rifle-bullets, and
put my head out of it, and shouted with all
my might—

"'The Versaillais!  The Versaillais!  Hold
out!  Hold out!  I see the Versaillais coming!'

"The effect was marvellous.  The *sergents
de ville* leapt to their feet again.  The convicts
scurried down the staircase, tumbling over
each other in their haste.  They streamed
out into the courtyard and became a
frightened mob.  Their terror was contagious,
and every man sought to save his skin.
They peeped cautiously through every open
door, and when they saw the coast clear
made a run for it.  They fetched ladders
out of unexpected places and scaled the
prison walls with them.  Citizen Ferré
himself attempted to swarm up a water-pipe.

"And there were no Versaillais coming.  I
had invented them because I saw that they
were necessary to save the situation.  They
did not actually come until more than two
hours afterwards; though, in the meantime,
we saw nothing of my old friends, Citizen
Ferré and his companions.

"At last, however, the little men with the
red trousers came marching into the courtyard,
and I said—

"'Let me go down and explain.  The
Colonel will be surprised to see me.'

"Well might he be surprised, even though
he failed to recognise me.  My frock-coat
was singed and torn; my silk hat was
battered, and the nap on it was ruffled; my
face was as black as a negro's from the
smoke.  I must, indeed, have looked a
pitiable object as I issued from the door,
exclaiming—

"'Welcome, M. le Colonel.  I am Jean Antoine——'

.. _`191`:

"A bullet splashed against the wall beside
me, and I withdrew.  Tearing off my red
sash, and borrowing a helmet and a tunic
from one of the *sergents de ville*, I reappeared
and resumed my friendly greeting.

"'Welcome, M. le Colonel.  Herewith I
restore to you forty-two policemen whom my
old friend Ferré would have shot.  I have
raised the tone of revolution.  I am Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"I bowed profoundly, and this time no
rifle-bullets interrupted my discourse.

"The Colonel merely said—

"'Whoever you are, you'll remain under
arrest while the truth of your story is
inquired into.'

"'That, M. le Colonel,' I said, 'is only
reasonable.  I am sorry that I have no sword
to surrender to you.  My only weapon has
been a piece of crockery.  If you wish that
it should be formally handed to you, I will
go and fetch it.'

"He did not wish it, but proceeded to try
me by drum-head court-martial on the spot.
With what result you can conjecture.  A
prisoner who has forty-two policemen vying
with each other to give evidence in his favour
has little to fear even from an improvised
military tribunal.

"In consideration of my services to the
police I was dismissed, within two minutes,
without a stain upon my character, and even
thanked for what I had done to raise the
tone of revolution.

"To think that, after that, I should have
lived to be chased by policemen, as I was
yesterday, through the kitchen and offices,
out of the back door!  Fifine, my angel
Fifine! what would you have said if you had
lived to hear of it?"





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE SECRET SOCIETY`:

.. class:: center large

   THE SECRET SOCIETY.

.. vspace:: 2

There is no more mysterious, and no more
misrepresented society than the Camorra.
I never understood its nature or its objects
until I heard Stromboli's story.  He went to
Naples and discovered the Camorra.  He
investigated it and found out exactly what
manner of society it was.  But let him tell
the story in his own words:—

.. vspace:: 2

"I had no sooner come to Naples," he
said, "than the Camorra forced itself upon
my notice.  Even as I landed from the
steamer, I observed the boatman who had
brought ashore my modest luggage surreptitiously
slipping a small coin into the hand
of a stalwart bystander, gaudily attired in
the costume that one associates with brigandage,
who had all the air of accepting it, not
as an alms, but his due.  My watchful
curiosity was at once excited.

"'Who is that man, then?' I asked the
sailor curtly.

"'It is the Camorrista, signor—it is the
Camorra man, sir,' he answered, in matter-of-fact
tones, as he lifted my luggage into a
carriage.

"I began to wonder.

"My carriage rattled over the stones and set
me down in my hotel.  Another stalwart
individual was waiting there.  He, too, was
an ornamental person; he wore wide velvet
breeches with gold lace upon them, a loose
white shirt, a red sash, and a gaudy silk
handkerchief knotted over his head.  And
he, too, reached out his hand to claim a
coin which my driver dropped into his palm.

"'Who is that man?' I asked again, and
got the same answer as before—

"'It is the Camorrista, signor—it is the
Camorra man.'

"'And why do you give him money?' I
inquired further.

"'Because he demands it, signor,' the man
replied; and he jumped on to his box and
drove away before I had time to pursue the
subject any further.

"I went on wondering.

"Evidently this was a strange country to
which I had come—a country in which you
had only to demand money in the name of a
mysterious society in order to obtain it.
Would people also give money to me, in
case of need, if I also dressed gaudily and
stepped forward with a bold address, saying
'I am the Camorra man'?  The question
furnished food for thought.

"'To-morrow,' I said to myself, 'I will
investigate this matter.  In the meantime,
I will dismiss it from my mind, and dine.'

"I ceased wondering, therefore, and ate my
dinner, and strolled out into the city to divert
myself.

"My diversion took the form of a game of
billiards in a *café*, which was not, I must
admit, one of the most fashionable *cafés* in
the city.  It was, in fact, a *café* in the dark
and narrow street known as the Tre Capelle—the
street of the Three Hats.  There was
a better opportunity of observing the life of
the people there than in the more fashionable
quarters.

"But I did not merely observe the life of
the people.  I also won the people's money.
My skill at billiards was not, in those days,
inconsiderable.  In several successive games
I was the victor, and each game was played
for a higher stake than the game preceding
it.  Altogether, perhaps, I won enough to
pay my hotel bill for a week.  Then I
pocketed my profits and bade the company
a courteous 'Good evening.'

"'*Addio!*' I said, waving my broad-brimmed
hat and smiling; and then took
my umbrella—for it had been raining—and
stepped jauntily into the street.

"Hardly had I gone half-a-dozen steps when
a stranger stepped out of the shadow and
approached me.

"The street was dimly lighted with oil
lamps, and I could not see him well, but I
saw that he, too, was gaudy and robust.  His
small round felt hat had cocks' feathers in
it, and he wore earrings which glittered in
the lamplight.  He brandished a cudgel in
his right hand, while his left was extended
like a mendicant's.

"'Our share, signor?' he asked
peremptorily, if not quite truculently.

"'Whose share?  And whom may I have
the honour of addressing?' I retorted with
no less determination.

"'*Il Camorrista*—the Camorra man,' he
rejoined, in just such accents as he might
have used had he been able to announce
himself as the policeman on duty in the
neighbourhood.

"A sudden curiosity seized me.  How would
this imperious man behave, I wondered, if I
were to prod him quite suddenly and very
violently in the pit of the stomach with the
point of my umbrella?  It seemed an
interesting experiment, and one well worth
trying.

"'Here, take your share!' I cried, and
lunged at him with the skill and rapidity of
one accustomed to the foils.

"My eye and aim were sure, and the result
was satisfactory.  The ferrule struck my
antagonist just beneath the breast-bone—at
that sensitive point, in fact, which your
prizefighters always aim at.

"He uttered a cry of pain, staggered,
doubled up, and fell in a heap upon the
ground.

"'*Addio, Camorrista*—farewell, Camorra
man,' I said, and strode away with dignity,
to the amazement and admiration of the
onlookers.

"But my experience had interested me.  I
felt that I had lighted upon a mystery, and
I was resolved to probe it to the bottom.
To that end I rang my bedroom bell the
next morning and put a question to the
chambermaid who answered it.

"'Tell me, Lucia, what is the Camorra?'

"She stared at me as blankly as though I
had requested her to define space or time.

"'What is the Camorra, signor?  The Camorra,
signor—it is the Camorra,' she replied.

"It was an inadequate explanation, but I
thought I might succeed better if I tried a
gentler method.  So I kissed her and took
her hand caressingly.

"'*Voyons*, sweetheart!' I said.  'There
is no need for you to be afraid.  I will
protect you.  Tell me everything that you know
about this Camorra.'

"To my amazement, she snatched her hand
away and ran screaming down the corridor.

"I changed my tone.

"'*Voyons*, baby!  Send up the landlord to
me!' I shouted after her.

"He came with the indignant air of a man
whose establishment I had outraged by the
commission of an impropriety; but I
received him with an indignation equal to his
own.

"'*Voyons*, landlord!' I exclaimed.  'What
is the meaning of all this?  Is this house a
lunatic asylum?'

"He replied that it was nothing of the kind.

"'It is because my house is not a lunatic
asylum,' he added, 'that I invite the signor
to leave it without delay.'

"It was natural that I should express
myself strongly.

"'Leave your house!' I said.  'Neither
your manners nor your macaronis tempt me
to make a long stay in it.  But before I
go, I must have an answer to a question.
I insist.  Attend!'

"He glared, as though knowing that the
question would be an awkward one.  I met
his gaze and put the question firmly.

"'What I want to know is this: What is
the Camorra?  Why have I been
invited—unceremoniously and with
menaces—to subscribe to it?  To what purpose
would my subscription have been devoted
had I paid it instead of felling the agent
of the society—the collector of its
tribute—with an unexpected blow?'

"But I did not get the plain answer to the
plain question which I thought I had a right
to.  Nor did I get admiration for my
courageous feat of arms.  My landlord's face
expressed only amazement and dismay.  He
threw up his arms with the gesture of a man
abandoning hope.

"'The signor struck the Camorrista?'

"'I have already told you that I struck
him with great force, to the astonishment
of the spectators.  I left him in the gutter
of the street of——'

"'Then the life of the signor is in peril,
and my life also.  The vengeance of the
Camorra——'

"'What is this Camorra, then?' I interrupted.

"'The Camorra is——"

"'Well?'

"'The Camorra is the Camorra.  It is
forbidden to say more.'

"'But I command you to say more.'

"My tone—perhaps my movements also—implied
a vague threat of violence.  But the
landlord did not wait for me to lay hands
on him.  He fled, as the chambermaid had
fled; but he slammed the door after him and
turned the key and locked me in.  Then he
called through the key-hole—

"'Will the signor forgive me?  It is the
only way.  I will arrange for the signor's
safety before the Camorra——'

"I heard no more, for I was hanging on to
the knob, rattling the door, and kicking at
the panels.

"They would not yield, being solid, as
though built in the old days when any house
might be required at any time to stand a
siege.  I assailed the door, first with a chair,
and then with a wash-hand jug, with no
result except that I broke both of them.
Then I sat down and reflected.  My window
was on the fourth floor and looked on
the hotel courtyard, so that escape in
that direction was impossible.  But there
still remained one other plan.  I had my
revolver.

.. _`"I assailed the door, first with a chair."`:

.. figure:: images/img-200.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "I assailed the door, first with a chair."

   "I assailed the door, first with a chair."

"'Stand clear there, everybody, while I
shoot!' I called through the key-hole;
and then I pulled the trigger and blew
away the lock.

"In the silence which followed the report
I heard the tramp of heavy footsteps in
the corridor.  Still gripping the smoking
weapon, I stepped outside to receive my
visitors.

"Imagine my surprise when I saw that they
were policemen, and that my landlord was
guiding them to my apartment, carrying the
key.  His language was polite, however, and
he offered an explanation.

"'It is arranged,' he said.  'If the signor
will be so kind as to pay his bill, these gentlemen
will afford the signor the protection that
is necessary for him.'

"'And the Camorra?' I asked.

"'Hush!' he replied, lifting both his hand
to enjoin silence.

"So I paid my bill and accompanied my
police escort, trying to think more kindly of
my landlord.

"'The good man means well," I said
to myself.  'He fears lest I should be
assassinated by this terrible and all-pervading
society.  He procures me police protection.
I will write to him and say that it was quite
unnecessary, but that I am nevertheless
obliged to him.'  Then, as we got out into
the street, I proceeded to enter into
conversation with my escort.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to them.  'You, at
least, my friends, will be able to give me
some information about this mysterious Camorra.'

"'Silence!' in authoritative accents was
the only answer that I got.

"'Have a glass of wine with me, then,
before we go any further,' I suggested.

"They agreed to that, and sat round me
outside a *café* and drank at my expense;
but the refreshment did not make them much
more communicative.  The Camorra was the
Camorra.  It was secret; it was powerful.
It helped its friends, and punished its enemies
without mercy.  The people who did not
belong to it had to pay tribute to those who
did.  That was all the information I could get.
"'It must be a society that works for
the revolution,' I suggested.

"'Silence!' came the answer again, in
accents half savage and half scared; and we
left the *café* and marched on.

"It occurred to me that we had gone far
enough, and that I did not need police
protection any longer.  I said so, adding:

"'Where are you taking me, my friends?
To the railway-station, or to the steamboat?'

"They laughed.  It is not often that a
policeman laughs, but these policemen laughed
like countrymen at the theatre seeing their
first farce.

"'Where are we taking you?' they cackled,
with horrible grimaces.

"'Precisely.  That is my question?'

"'Well, to the prison, of course.  Where else?'

"'To the prison, indeed!  But I am under
police protection!'

"They roared with laughter.

"'Under police protection!  It is a way of
putting it, when one has a light heart and
loves a joke.'

"'A joke'?"

"'Certainly, seeing that you are under arrest.'

"'On what charge?'

"They shrugged their shoulders like one man.

"'Who knows?  There may be a charge;
there may be none.  It may be sustained; it
may break down.  Who knows?"

"'Do you mean to tell me that at Naples
a stranger may be arrested——'

"'Obviously.'

"'With no more ceremony than if he were
being asked to dinner?  I do not believe
it.  There is some mystery here.  The Camorra——'

"'Silence!'

"'The Camorra is at the bottom of this.
The Camorra and the landlord are in a
conspiracy against me——'

"'It is possible.  We have no information
on the subject.'

"'But I will resist their machinations.  I
will confound them.  I will probe the
mystery to the bottom.  I am Jean
Antoine——'

"'It is possible—we have no information.
But here is the prison.'

"Resistance was out of the question.  It
seemed likely, indeed, that I should be safer
in the prison than outside it.  There, at
least, I might find some intelligent person
who would listen to my explanation; there,
at least, I should have respite from the
attentions of the Camorra, and a plain answer to
a civil question.

"Patience!" I said to myself, as the great
gate clanged behind me; and it soon became
evident that I should have need of patience.
For this Neapolitan prison was quite different
from any other prison that I had ever been
confined in.

"There was no ceremonious reception of
new-comers by the authorities; they did not
even trouble to ask who one was.

"There was no privacy.  Separate cells
were only provided for prisoners condemned
to death—a heavy price to pay for such a
privilege.  For the rest, the inmates were
herded together in great courtyards, with
no distinction between those convicted and
those awaiting trial, and no one, so far as
I could see, to supervise their conduct.  It
was, as it were, a republic of evil-doers in
which I was turned loose to take my chance
and find my level.

"'There are your quarters.  Soup and
macaroni are served out twice daily.  The
other prisoners will tell you where you can
sleep,' said the gaoler curtly.

"'But I demand to know——' I protested.

"'Silence!  Don't bother me with your
foolish questions,' he replied, and slammed
a door and disappeared.

"So I got no satisfaction from him, and my
heart sank within me.  A period of *ennui*—a
term of weary waiting, with discomfort
but without excitement—that seemed to be
the fate in store for me.  But once more—so
far, at least, as the excitement was
concerned—I was mistaken.  A fellow prisoner
provided me with immediate excitement.

"He was tall, lithe, masterful in demeanour.
He approached me, like the man whom I
had prodded in the stomach after my game
of billiards, with one hand extended for a
donation, and the other brandishing a cudgel.

"'The due?' he demanded curtly.

"'What due?' I asked calmly.

"'To buy oil for the lamp of the Madonna.'

"It was a formula, though I did not know
it.  But I was not, as you may suppose, in
a conciliatory temper.  I drew myself up
haughtily and said: 'My good man, I
was not aware that I had the pleasure of
your acquaintance.'

"He introduced himself.

"'*Io sono il Camorrista*—I am the Camorra man.'

"It was a blow to me.  Were my footsteps
to be dogged there, even in prison, by the
representatives of this mysterious society?
It seemed so.  Yet, in a sense, I was glad to
meet it there.  It was a chance of solving
the perplexing mystery, and I determined
to solve it, even at the risk of a temporary
misunderstanding.

"I fixed my eyes on the man, showing that
I was ready to defend myself, and spoke to
him seriously.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to him.  'The last
Camorra man who was rude to me is now
suffering from a pain in the pit of the
stomach, and he wasn't either so rude or so
ugly as you are.'

"'*Corpo di Baccho!*' the man exclaimed,
making as though he would strike me, yet
hesitating before my determined attitude.

"'But let us be reasonable,' I continued.
'Let me make a proposal to you.'

"'Speak!'

"'Ever since my arrival at Naples, I have
been curious to know what your Camorra is,
and what it does with the money which it
collects with such systematic industry.  If
you will tell me, I will give you a piece of
gold; and if you do not tell me, I will give
you nothing.'

"Would he have yielded if we had been
alone?  I cannot say.  A knot of our fellow
prisoners had gathered round us, and his
pride was at stake.

"'Silence!  You have not to ask questions,
but to pay.'

"My temper was roused, and I resolved to
precipitate the crisis.  I flung a piece of
gold—part of my winnings at the
billiard-table—on the ground, and challenged him.

"'*Voyons!*' I cried.  'No one shall say
that Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski is
mean.  There is your money, and I will fight
you for it.'

"A fierce cry of approval went up from the
bystanders.

"'A duel!  A duel!' they exclaimed in
chorus, and the representative of the Camorra—to
do him justice—did not shrink from the
encounter.

"'Antonio!' he called to a companion,
'fetch knives!'  And I made the strange
discovery that, in a Neapolitan prison, the
prisoners were allowed to borrow knives for
the settlement of their affairs of honour.

"But I would not have a knife.  It is a
weapon in the use of which I have had little
practice.

"'No, no!' I cried.  'I will take no
unfair advantage of you.  It shall be your knife
against my umbrella.  Does that seem fair to you?'

"He seemed to hesitate, as one who dreads
an unfamiliar danger; but the public opinion
of the prison was in favour of my proposal.
It had novelty; it promised strange spectacular
effects calculated to relieve the tedium
of prison life.  So my opponent found it
impossible to refuse.

"'As you prefer,' he said; and seconds
were appointed and a space was cleared.  At
the given word, we advanced to meet each
other from opposite corners of the court-yard.

"Do not ask me for details of the combat!
I am not vain.  Therefore I will not dwell
upon them at undue length.

"It was like this.  The Camorrista at first
advanced stealthily, with long, catlike strides;
and I on my part advanced firmly, holding
myself upright, like a master of fencing of
the French rather than the Italian school.
Then the Camorrista launched himself upon
me like the greyhound bounding upon the
hare.  I saw his purpose—to grip the stick
of my weapon with his left hand while he
lunged with the right with a quick,
simultaneous movement.  As he seized it, I thrust
at him, taking a quick pace to the right as I
did so.  He fumbled and was delayed for
half a second, and the delay gave me my
chance.  As soon as my right foot was
planted on the ground, I launched the *coup
de savate* with my left.  Before he could
swing the knife round, and at the moment
when he was bending slightly forward, the
blow caught him in that same point beneath
the breast bone in which my antagonist of
the previous evening had been wounded.

.. _`"As soon as my right foot was planted on the ground, I launched the *coup de savate* with my left."`:

.. figure:: images/img-210.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "As soon as my right foot was planted on the ground, I launched the *coup de savate* with my left."

   "As soon as my right foot was planted on the ground, I launched the *coup de savate* with my left."

"The knife dropped from his grasp.  He
fell moaning and helpless.  It was over.  I
was victorious; and I pointed with my
umbrella at my opponent where he lay.

"'*Voyons*, gentlemen!  The coin remains
my property, I think,' I said, picking it up
and replacing it in my pocket.

"'If any other gentleman desires to do
battle similarly for the Madonna's oil,' I
continued, but none came forward.  On the
contrary, they cheered me as the ancient
Romans, of whom you have heard, might
have cheered a triumphant gladiator.

"'I thank you, gentlemen,' I said, bowing
with dignity, and walked away.

"But my triumph was to have a consequence
which I did not foresee.  For the remainder
of the day my mind was not entirely easy.
Some of my fellow prisoners were whispering
together in a manner that did not tend to
reassure me.  My antagonist had partially
recovered and was the centre of mysterious
conclaves.  There seemed reason to fear that
an advantage would be taken of me while I
slept—some act of violence done to me in the dark.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to myself.  'I cannot
keep awake every night; but this night it is
necessary that I should watch and see what happens.'

"Nor had I long to wait before I saw
something to justify my fears.  The very man
whom I had discomfited in the morning was
creeping stealthily towards me along the
dormitory floor, where I lay stretched, as all
the others were, upon a poor, hard mattress.
I waited until he had got quite close to
me, and then suddenly sat bolt upright,
with my hand on my umbrella, prepared
to strike with it.  But there was no need
to strike.

"'Hush!' the man whispered.  'You
proved yourself this morning.  I now come
to you as a friend.  I bring you these.'

"Imagine my surprise when I saw him
gently place a small handful of small coins
upon my bed.

"'What does this mean, then?' I whispered
in reply, still watching and suspecting
treachery.

"'It is your share.'

"'My share of what?'

"'Of the *barattolo*—of the funds that we
collect.'

"'But——'

"'It is offered as a token that we wish you
to be one of us.'

"'One of you?  One of the Camorra?'

"'Precisely.  It is the rule, when a man
has proved himself, that he shall be invited
to be one of us.'

"It really seemed as though my chance
had come to get an answer to my question.
I reached out my hand in sign of amity and
asked it.

"'Speak to me as a friend, then.  Excuse
my ignorance, and tell me what is this
Camorra which I am asked to join.'

"But I was once more put off.

"'Hush!  It is the rule only to inform the
companions by degrees.'

"'But you might at least begin informing me?'

"'Yes, I may tell you something.  It is a
society—secret and powerful.  Those who do
not love it, fear it.  It has influence
everywhere.  It brought you here.  It will arrange
you your release to-morrow, by withdrawing
the charge against you.  A companion will meet
you at the prison gate.  Do as he bids you.'

"'But the object of the society?  The
purposes to which it devotes the great sums
of money which——'

"'Hush!  It is of that that I must not
inform you yet.  You know, at least, that it
is better to be the friend of the Camorra than
its enemy.'

"And that, at any rate, was clearly true.
Can you blame me if, knowing that, and
desiring my release, I agreed to join the
society even without a full knowledge of its
objects?  Can you blame me if I further
felt that loyalty bound me to be obedient to
the behests of the companion who was to
await me at the gate?  This time I had to
do with a Camorrista dressed as a gentleman.

"'You are the new companion?' he asked
me, when I came out.

"'I am the new companion, Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski,' I replied.

"'I was expecting you,' he said.

"'It is very kind of you,' I answered.
'Perhaps you will add to your kindness by
informing me what are the political objects
of this interesting society in which I have
enrolled myself.'

"'Hush!' he said.  'At present I am only
permitted to inform you of the duties which
you are to discharge.'

"'Your behaviour strikes me as very
equivocal,' I protested.

"But he reasoned with me gently.

"'What!' he said.  'You would know all—before
you have proved yourself, before
you have given guarantees?  You will not
trust the Camorra even when the Camorra
shows that it has trust in you?  Consider,
now.  Does not our confidence merit yours?'

"'But I have a curiosity to know.'

"'Naturally—most naturally.  And it will
not be very long before your curiosity is
gratified.'

"'How long, then?'

"'A week, perhaps.'

"'You mean that?'

"'Most assuredly.  There are men who
have worked years to conquer the privilege
which you have won by a single act of
courage.'

"'In a week, then——'

"'In a week you will receive notice of the
meeting called for your initiation as a member
of the Camorra.'

"'And then I shall know all?'

"'All—provided that in the meantime you
have faithfully performed the duties that I
lay upon you.'

"'Your words are plausible,' I said.  'You
are an honest man.  Let me shake hands
with you.'

"We shook hands, and my colleague
explained the nature of my appointed task.
Outside the *café* at which I had felled the
Camorrista to the ground, I was myself to
stand as the representative of the Camorra.
I was to collect the Camorra's share—a tenth
of every winner's winnings.  I was to account
to the Camorra for the money—the Camorra
would dispose of it.

"'It does not strike me as an occupation
of great dignity,' I represented.

"'Indeed!  It is a position of trust that I
assign to you.'

"There clearly was something in that.

"'If I were quite sure,' I added, 'of the
objects of the association, and of the use to
which the money would be put——'

"He smiled and nodded, saying—

"'You will soon know; and when you
know, you will have no reason to be
displeased.'

"Then he left me, and I lunched and
proceeded to my post, and acted to the best of
my ability as Collector of Revenues to the
Camorra.

"There were no difficulties to be encountered.
The tax-collectors of the Government must
have envied me the simplicity of my task.
There were no troublesome forms to be filled
up; there were no irritating requests to call
again.  I had merely to extend my hand,
and the coins were counted into it without
demur.  Nor had I to keep books.  To
prevent mistakes, I put the Camorra moneys
aside in a separate bag.  For the rest, there
was perfect reliance on my honour.

"In due course a letter was slipped into
my hands, running thus—

.. vspace:: 1

"'*Dear Companion,—It is for to-night, in
the cellar of the house by which thou watchest.
Thou shalt be initiated, and then shalt be
informed of all.  Nothing further.*

.. class:: noindent

"'THY COMPANION.'

.. vspace:: 1

"It was a great occasion for me, and I
prepared myself to do full justice to it.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to myself.  'I will
make my toilet; and while I am making
my toilet, I will compose my speech.  *Grande
tenue*, I take it, will be *en règle*.  Even if I
am wrong, I shall have paid my companions
a compliment by thinking so, and it will also
be a compliment to be able to address them
in a few well-chosen words.'

"So, as I had no dress-clothes with me, I
hired a suit, wearing also a flowing cape to
cover it, in case it should seem ostentatious;
and I collected my thoughts and polished
my phrases, that I might deliver a suitable
harangue, on the principles of whatever
revolution might be contemplated.

"Alas! it was a waste of energy, as you
shall see.  Listen to me, I beg of you, while
I describe my first and last appearance at a
formal committee meeting of the Camorra.

"The place was a long, low room, below the
level of the street, reached from the *café* by
a winding staircase; stone oil-lamps, swinging
from the ceiling, lighted it dimly, clouds
of tobacco smoke thickened the atmosphere;
bottles of red wine and tumblers were set out
on a long table on which no cloth was laid.

"There were from twenty-five to thirty
companions present—companions of all kinds
and all social grades; companions who had
all the appearance of prosperous professional
men—doctors, lawyers, and magistrates—some
of these, like myself, were in evening
dress, with white gloves; companions who
looked like working men; companions who
looked like wandering Neapolitan mandolinists.
It seemed strange that *camaraderie*
should prevail among them; yet so it was.
They sat round the table together clinking
glasses, while I was placed on a high stool
near the door awaiting the ceremony of my
initiation.  It was a very simple ceremony.
The president of the assemblage rose and
addressed me.

"'It is the rule,' he said, 'to require a
new companion to prove himself by fighting
a duel with some existing member of——'

"'I shall be most pleased,' I interposed.
'If you yourself, Signor President, will do
me the great honour of encountering me, I
will endeavour——'

"'In certain cases,' the president continued,
'the rule is waived.  It is waived in your
case, because you have already proved yourself.'

"'On two occasions, Signor President,' I
reminded him.'

"'Precisely—on two occasions.  Consequently
the third proof is not required.'

"'You are quite sure, Signor President?
I ask no favour.  Rather than that any
irregularity should be committed——'

"'There will be no irregularity.  It will
only be necessary for you to swear the oath.
Repeat it after me.'

"He recited the formula, a short and simple
one.  I swore to be faithful to the Camorra,
to keep its secrets, to obey its orders, to
betray no companions to the police.  And
that was all.

"'Now drink,' said the president.  And a
tumbler of red wine was handed to me, and
I duly drained it to the dregs, after first
walking round the table and clinking glasses
with every member.

"'And now,' the president continued, 'we
reach the business of the evening.'

"I listened eagerly.  At last, it seemed, the
mystery was to be solved, and I was to learn
the secret of the Camorra—in what sacred
cause it gathered in its revenues, and by
what subtle means it proposed to employ
them for the overthrow of principalities and
powers.  The truth burst upon me like a
thunderbolt.

"'Giovanni, bring me the books!' called
the president to a subordinate.  And two
great ledgers, such as you see in merchants'
offices, were laid before him.

"'And the cash!' he added; and a number
of small bags full of coins were also brought.

"In a few minutes he was immersed in
calculations, while a loud buzz of talk went on
around him.  Then he looked up, and banging
upon the table, called for silence.  When he
spoke, you could have heard a pin drop.

"'The week has been a fortunate one,' he
said, and cheers broke out.  'In addition to
the ordinary tribute collected on the quays,
at the hotels, and in the *cafés*, some heavy
fees have been received from farmers whose
cattle the companions have promised not to
poison, and from citizens at whose houses the
companions have undertaken that there shall
be no burglaries.  The *barattolo*——'

"'*Viva il barattolo!*' shouted the
companions gleefully.

"'The *barattolo* for the week amounts to
the sum of 20,000 lire (loud cheers).  When
the necessary deductions have been made for
working expenses, and for the remuneration
of the office-bearers of the society, there
remain 730 lire for each companion.'

"Not a word, you perceive, about the
political purposes of the society, concerning
which I had been promised information.
I rose from my stool to point out the
omission.

"'*Voyons*, companions——' I began, but
the president signed to me to be silent and
continued—

"'Let me proceed to the distribution of the
funds.  Giovanni, take this bag first to the
companion, Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"My turn had come, and I was free to speak.
They cheered me as I rose, imagining, no
doubt, that I wished to return thanks for
the honour done to me.  But this was not my
purpose.  My suspicions were awakened, and
I concentrated those suspicions in the form
of searching questions.

"'This bag of money is for me,' I began.

"'Naturally,' replied the president.

"'To do what I like with?'

"'Absolutely.'

"'And for each companion present there is
a similar bag for him also, to do what he likes
with?'

"'Assuredly.  We are all brothers here.'

"'And the great revenues of this great
society are collected for no other purpose
than to be thus divided weekly among the
favoured few?'

"'Precisely.  For what other purpose should
we trouble to collect them?'

"'Then I have a word to say.'

"For now the truth was out, and my
suspicions were confirmed, and indignation had
followed in their train.

"The companions stared at me—puzzled by
my vehemence; but I quickly made them
understand.  The burning sentences flowed
like red-hot lava from my lips.  The speech
which I delivered was not the speech which
I had prepared.  It was an infinitely greater
speech.

"'Yes, I have a word to say to you;
and that word is this.  You have deceived,
deluded, fooled me, you have inveigled me
by your fair words into a companionship of
which I find myself at once ashamed.'

"A murmur was arising, but I quelled it.

"'Silence!  I have not finished.  I have
but begun.  By your nods and your winks
and your mysterious words you led me to
believe that in joining you I was joining
the mightiest revolutionary society that the
world had ever seen.  Heaven knows that
I shrink from no revolutionary enterprise.
Heaven knows that I am willing to adopt
strong measures to raise the money which
such enterprises need.  And I thought that
you were raising money for such a purpose,
and that I was helping you to raise it.  But
what do I find?  I find that you plunder—plunder
the poor and weak and helpless—not
for a cause, but for yourselves.  I
thought to be taking part with you in a
high political conspiracy, and I find myself—I,
*moi qui vous parle*, find myself—sitting
and drinking in a den of thieves.'

"There was a further murmur; but this,
too, I quelled.

"'Silence!  I have nearly done.  It remains
for me to shake the dust from off my feet.
It remains for me to say that I resign my
membership, that I repudiate you, that I
sever my connection with you, that I denounce
you——'

"But I got no further.  It was the word
'denounce,' unfortunately chosen, with its
suggestion of betrayal to the police, that
spurred the companions to action.  Their
numbers gave them courage; their knives
flashed; as a single man they leapt at me.

"It was no time for argument.  I hurled
my stool at the nearest of them, and so
secured a start.  On the winding stair one
of them clutched at the skirt of my cape; I
threw my arms back, so that it came off in
his hands.  Then, in my evening dress and
opera-hat, I gained the streets and ran, some
twenty Neapolitan ruffians, with their knives
drawn, pursuing.

.. _`"'It was no time for argument. I hurled my stool at the nearest of them.'"`:

.. figure:: images/img-224.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: "'It was no time for argument. I hurled my stool at the nearest of them.'"

   "'It was no time for argument. I hurled my stool at the nearest of them.'"

"But I was fleet of foot, and they pursued
in vain; and when I had reached the
railway-station, and jumped into the carriage of
a departing train—which seemed, in the
circumstances, the safest place of refuge—I
found that my bag of coins was safely in
my pocket.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to myself, as I examined
it.  'If I could return each of these coins
to its rightful owner!  But that is obviously
impossible; there is no alternative but to
retain them as a memento of a remarkable
experience that is hardly likely to occur again.'"





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE VISIT TO THE HOLY MAN`:

.. class:: center large

   THE VISIT TO THE HOLY MAN.

.. vspace:: 2

It was at the time when the name of the
Senussi—the mysterious Holy Man who
frightened the Foreign Office from an oasis
of the Libyan Desert—was in the papers.

"The Senussi!" exclaimed Stromboli.
"When I tell you that I—*moi qui vous parle*—have
spoken with the Senussi; when I tell
you that I—*moi qui vous parle*—have inflicted
an indignity upon the Senussi; nay, more,
when I tell you that the Senussi and I
exchanged indignities!  Are you at leisure?
Then let me tell you."

I consented to listen; and Stromboli began—

"You all talk of the Holy Man with bated
breath, as if he was Beelzebub; but I, for
my part, always spoke of him openly and
fearlessly.  And it happened one day, some
fifteen years ago, that I was imparting
information about him to some old friends of
mine, who were Irish members of your House
of Commons.

"'He's a holy man and a strong man,' I
was saying, 'and he gets holier and stronger
every day, and he knows how to bide his
time.  One day, when he's holy enough and
strong enough, he'll get up in the middle of
the night and preach the Holy War.  And
then beware!  His followers will come out of
the desert like a swarm of locusts and eat up
the country.'

"Having made this speech, I proceeded to
withdraw with dignity; but one of the
gentlemen followed me down the stairs, and
spoke to me in an Irish accent—

"'Oirish whisky, Mr. Stromboli,' he said,
'is better f'r y'r health than the Scotch that
ye've been drinking, an' I happen to know a
little place round the corner...'

"I accepted the invitation as cordially as it
was given, never guessing that it was the
prelude to a political proposal; but the
refreshment was no sooner set before us than
my companion broke the ice.

"'I was listenin' just now with very much
interest to y'r conversation, Mr. Stromboli.  Ye
were spaking of a sartain holy friend of yours.'

"'Hardly a personal friend,' I corrected.

"'Ah, well! ye said he was a holy man,
and a powerful man, and ye seemed to know
a good deal about his ways.  So it occurred
to me, between ourselves, to make a little
proposal to ye.'

"It seemed to me, at this stage of the proceedings,
that I had better ask my friend his name.

"'Me name?' he replied.  'Well, of course,
that's what I should have begun by telling ye.
Me name's Biggar.  Maybe ye've heard of me.
I'm a member of the Irish Nationalist Party.'

"I bowed; while Mr. Biggar took off his
spectacles, wiped them, put them on again,
and peered at me with his penetrating little
eyes.  Then he called for further glasses of
whisky, and proceeded—

"'Well, now ye know me name an' me
position in life, and we'll proceed to business.
What I was about to ask ye was whether ye
think it loikely that this holy friend of yours
could be persuaded to take up the cause of
Home Rule for Oireland.'

"I pointed out the obvious difficulty—that
the Holy Man was a Mohammedan, and that
the Irish people were not; but Mr. Biggar
was not disconcerted.

"'I've thought of that, sorr,' he replied.
'I was thinking of that over the first glass
of whisky; and the way out of the difficulty
is now clear to me.  All that ye have to do is
to put it to the Holy Man in this way—that
the down-trodden Oirish people are prevented
from becoming Mohammedans because they
have not yet obtained Home Rule.'

"I congratulated Mr. Biggar on the
ingenuity of his argument, and he advanced
it a step further.

"'I'm thinkin', Mr. Stromboli, that the
party to which I hold the confidential position
of treasurer might perhaps make it worth
y'r while to pay a visit to Mr. Senussi.'

"'*The* Senussi,' I corrected,

"'Ah!  So they say The Senussi, just as
we say The O'Donoghue.  It's a further bond
of union between us.  And as I was saying,
I'm thinking it might be made worth y'r
while to go and see him, and present him
with me compliments—the compliments of
Mr. Joseph Gillis Biggar—and suggest to him
that he should create a divarsion in the
direction of Egypt, at the time when the Oirish
members are moving the adjournment of the
House of Commons.  Will ye tell me now
what ye think of the proposal?'

"I looked him in the face to make sure that
he was sober and in earnest.  I saw that he
was both, and raised no objection when he
called for a third glass of whisky.

"'*Voyons*!  Mr. Biggar,' I said.  'This is
a very dangerous mission on which you
propose to send me.  Are you aware that the
oasis in which the Senussi lives is surrounded
by Arabs who have absolutely no other work to
do except to murder all strangers who
approach it without satisfactory credentials?'

"But Mr. Biggar was not confounded by
the question.

"'That's what I was thinkin' of over the
second glass of whisky, Mr. Stromboli,' he
replied; 'and I have already thought out a
plan for you.'

"'Unfold it, Mr. Biggar,' I said.  And he
unfolded it.

"'It's like this, Mr. Stromboli.  In addition
to bein' an Oirish member, I'm in business, as
ye may have heard, as a provision merchant.'

"'Proceed, sir,' I said; and he proceeded.

"'There's one of me customers that's a
Mohammedan.  He's an Arab who throws
raw potatoes into the air and catches them
on the bridge of his nose and breaks them,
in circuses in the North of Oireland; but he
doesn't pay up very easily, and I've
threatened to County Court him for his bill.  Now
I'm thinking that it w'dn't take a great deal
of persuasion to induce that performing
Mohammedan to give ye the sort of letter of
introduction that ye require.'

"And Mr. Biggar called for a fourth glass
of whisky; while I pointed out a further
difficulty—that a Mohammedan who wrote
from Ireland might perhaps fail to inspire
the Senussi with confidence.

"'I was thinkin' of that over the third glass,
and it's no difficulty at all, at all,' said
Mr. Biggar.  'The man w'dn't date his letter
from the circus, and he w'dn't mention that
he made his livin' by catchin' praties on the
bridge of his nose; he'd date it from just
where ye like, and he'd say just what ye please
in it.  Now, Mr. Stromboli, are ye satisfied?
Take a minute or two to think it over.'

"I reflected for a minute or two with folded
arms.  Then, having made up my mind, I
gripped Mr. Biggar by the hand.

"'Mr. Biggar, you are a man of genius,'
I exclaimed.  'Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski says it.  There now remains no
difficulty but one—the payment of my
travelling expenses in advance.'

"His expression changed, as I have heard
that it always did when money had to be disbursed;
and his tone, for the instant, was almost
unfriendly.  At any rate it was peremptory.

"'Now, mind me,' he began.  'Ye'll go
thurred class, and ye'll take some packets of
sandwiches so that ye needn't be always
dining in the hotels, and ye'll——'

"But I overawed him.

"'Mr. Biggar,' I said.  'Pray observe that
you are not speaking to one of your Irish
members.  You are speaking to Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"'I ask y'r pardon, sorr; I ask y'r pardon,'
said Mr. Biggar.

"It is granted," I replied with dignity.
'The brusqueness of your manner is no doubt
necessary with Irish members, when they are at
once indigent and exigent; but your heart is in
the right place.  And now, with your permission,
we will discuss the details of our project.'

"'While I have been drinkin' me fourth
glass,' rejoined Mr. Biggar, 'it has occurred
to me that that will be the more profitable
course.  General principles are best agreed
upon over the convivial bowl; but it would
be an error of judgment to settle the practical
minutiæ while under its influence, the more
especially as the good people here are now
engaged in turning out the lights.'

"So we bade each other an affectionate
farewell, postponing the adjustment of the details,
which were duly arranged at other interviews
conducted in the day.

"I need not dwell upon them.  Suffice it to
say that my travelling expenses and my letter
of introduction were both forthcoming in due
season, the latter being written at my
dictation, and checked and corrected, for the
prevention of treachery, by an eminent
Oriental scholar.  As for my remuneration—

"'We'll pay ye by results,' said Mr. Biggar;
'and ye'll find that ye'll be treated very
handsomely on the day when Ould Oireland
gets Home Rule.'

"And his parting speech was—

"'Me bhoy, ye're one of the broightest
jewels in the crown that Ould Oireland's
foightin' for, and I'm only sorry we can't
be after givin' ye a public dinner by way of
a send-off.  But there's the danger that the
Holy Man would come to hear of it, and shoot
at ye from behind a hedge in the desert, just
for all the world as if ye were a landlord.  So
ye'd best go about the business stealthily.
And now good luck to ye.'

"So we shook hands on the platform at
Charing Cross, and I set forth alone upon
my perilous adventure.

"My starting-point was Cairo.  There I was
to hire camels and guides, and buy presents
to propitiate hostile chiefs; and there began
my pilgrimage across the wide and burning
wastes of the Libyan Desert.

"You will not ask me for particulars of that
desert journey.  One journey through the
desert is very like another—blazing days and
chilly nights; a parching thirst that no drink
really quells; the sandstorm blown along by
a wind like a blast from an oven; the welcome
rest beneath the date palms at the wells; the
glorious sunsets that seem to set the heavens
aflame; but no real incident unless you miss
the wells and die of thirst, or marauding Arabs
find you out and fall on you, and slay you,
or drive you away to be sold in some
slave-market in the heart of the dark continent.

"And I—*moi qui vous parle*—I braved those
terrors, protected only by my Arabic letter,
written at my dictation by the degenerate
Mohammedan who broke raw potatoes on the
bridge of his nose in the circus in the North
of Ireland.

"Again and again my guides tried to persuade
me to turn back, their terror increasing
with every step that took us nearer to our
destination.

"'To draw near to Jarabub is forbidden,'
they said; 'Senussi-el-Mahdi will slay us,
and our blood will be on our master's head.'

"I retorted with emphasis and even with temper.

"'Are you not under my protection, and
have I not paid you in advance?  Go to,
then, and lead on.  Otherwise, your blood will
truly be upon your master's head, here and
now.  For I will slay you, and leave you for
the crows to pick your bones."

"'It is fated,' they said, and moved on
sulkily.

"But presently I saw that they were
whispering together; and I guessed what they
were planning—to murder me in the night-time
and steal away.  Against this danger
also, therefore, I took precaution.

"'*Voyons!*' I said.  'You have the souls
of slaves, and like slaves shall you be treated.
This night, and every night, shall you sleep
bound, so that you may not run away.'

"But, to my amazement, my proposal did
not make them angry.

"'So be it,' they said.  'For then will
Senussi-el-Mahdi know that we are indeed
our master's slaves, and that it is our master
alone who is accountable and worthy to be
put to death.'

"So I tied them up—none the less securely
because they had professed themselves willing
to be tied—and, so to say, drove my guides
before me towards the Oasis of Jarabub.

"Once or twice parties of Arabs, springing,
as it seemed, out of the yellow sand, came
upon me in the early morning, and bade me
turn back to the place that I had come from.

"'It is the will of Senussi-el-Mahdi,' they
explained, 'and he cares but little whether
we send thee back or slay thee where thou
standest.  Turn back, therefore, dog of a
Christian, lest a worse thing befall thee.'

"No doubt they would have killed me without
parley, if they had not seen that I was
armed and could retaliate.  But I had my
rifle in my hands and two revolvers in my
belt, so that they listened to me, or, rather,
to my guide Abdullah, who interpreted.'

"'Nay, but we come as friends,' Abdullah
said, 'and our master bears a letter for
Senussi-el-Mahdi from a true son of the
Prophet in a distant land.'

"'Son of a dog, thou liest!' said the savage
and discourteous Arab.

"There was nothing for it, therefore, but to
show him the letter and let him read it.  He still
seemed only half convinced, but that sufficed.

"'It is strange,' he said, 'but Senussi-el-Mahdi,
who knows all things, will decide,
when he has put thee to the question.  It
may be that he will make thee welcome, and
it may be that he will slit thy throat; but
I must not slit it for him until I know his will.
In the meantime hast thou not perchance
some gift for me?'

"I unpacked a burnous from my baggage
and handed it to him with a courteous
inclination.

"He took it from me with as little ceremony
as though it had been a contraband article
detected at a custom-house; but he made
a sign to his men, and they melted away as
suddenly as they had come in sight.

"We hurried on, starting each morning
before dawn, so as to travel quickly while the
air was cool, until one day, when the dawn
broke, suddenly almost as a flash of lightning,
the gleaming walls of a city showed themselves
in front of us.

"'It is Jarabub,' said my guides with a
single voice, throwing themselves upon the
ground to say their prayers.

"I told them to make haste with their
devotions and come on; and in half an hour
or so we had reached our goal, and were
seeking admission at the city gates.

"Do you ask me to describe the city?  Well,
I should say that, from a distance, it looked
not unlike a group of disused limekilns, and
that the resemblance did not entirely
disappear when one got close to it.  But I had
no time just then to observe it closely.  The
walls and the windows were crowded with
black men dressed in white, and bawling
questions in a language that I did not understand.

"It was my luck that there was a man in
the crowd who knew the English language;
for then I knew what line to take.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to myself.  'A black
man who knows English knows also Englishmen,
and is accustomed to be ordered, and
not asked to do what is required.'

"And to him I said, in the tones of one
accustomed to command—

"'Hi, you, there!  What's your name, and
where do you come from?'

"The effect was instantaneous, as,
indeed, I had expected.  Old memories and
associations triumphed, and he spoke to
me as a black soldier servant to his officer—

"'Kroo boy, sah, from West Coast, sah.
Name Bottled Bass, sah.  Hope you quite
well, sah.  Get you plenty chop one time, sah.'

"It was the perpetuated triumph of the
higher civilization over the lower.  I lost no
time in following it up.

"'That's all right, Bottled Bass,' I said;
'we'll see about the chop later on.  Meanwhile
get this gate open, and tell Senussi-el-Mahdi
I want to see him.  Say I've got a
letter from an old friend of his at Mecca.'

"To an Arab, of course, I should not have
spoken thus; but it was clearly the proper
way to speak to Bottled Bass.  The Arabs
themselves seemed favourably impressed on
finding that I spoke to this recent negro
convert with less ceremony than to
themselves; and he himself seemed proud to be
spoken to at all.

"It was not likely, of course, that he would
be in a position to convey my message
personally.  But he was a friendly interpreter,
and he would pass it on.  Exclusive though
the Senussi might be, the rumour would reach
him, and his curiosity would be aroused.  And
so it happened.

"After a pause the city gate was opened, and
I was allowed to enter.  I was put in a
courtyard, closely guarded, and given some dates
and a jug of water.  The population came
and stared at me.  But, at last, after weary
hours of waiting, a message was delivered to
me.  Abdullah and Bottled Bass were jointly
charged with its interpretation.

"'The unbeliever is summoned to the
presence,' was Abdullah's rendering.

"'This way, sah.  Follow the gen'leman,
sah,' was the gloss of Bottled Bass.

"The momentous hour had come, and I will
not pretend that I approached it without
apprehension.  But there was no trace of
nervousness in my demeanour.  I was grave
and dignified.  Knowing what was due to
myself, as well as what was due to my host,
I met Senussi-el-Mahdi in the manner in which
one high potentate meets another.  It is not
my fault that his attitude towards me was
less courteous.

"Let me give him his due, however.  He
was a man of imposing and remarkable
appearance: tall, with a fine full beard
flowing to his waist, yet not hiding the fact
that his chin was square and resolute;
keen-eyed, as one who read the hearts of those who
come before him; slow, but very masterful
in his gestures.  Save for his dress—he wore
loose white robes and a turban on his
head—he might have reminded one of those
old-fashioned English schoolmasters at whose
least word boys trembled.  One would not
dare to jest with him.  He spoke French as
well as Arabic.

"I bowed to him most ceremoniously, but he
did not return my bow.  It was a bad beginning.

"'What would you with me?' he asked
curtly; and I explained myself.

"'I have come from a far country,' I said,
'that the light of Senussi-el-Mahdi may shine
upon me.  I am Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"He merely stared at me as at some strange
insect.

"'Yes,' I repeated, 'I am Jean Antoine
Stromboli Kosnapulski, and I bear a letter
which will in part explain the reason why I
seek this interview.'

"He motioned to a guard, who took the
letter from me and placed it in his hands.
He read it aloud, translating it for my benefit
into French—

.. vspace:: 1

"'*From Mohammed-ben-Ali of Mecca, to the
most Holy Son of the Prophet, the Chosen of
God, Senussi-el-Mahdi.  Greeting.*

"'*With my own hands I write to thee
commending to thee one who dwelleth among
unbelievers yet worshippeth Allah according to his
lights, and journeyeth to thee that a fuller light
may shine upon his heart.  Instruct him in
the truth, O Mahdi! and he will be thy faithful
servant.  Nay, more, when instructed by thee
in the Book, he shall in his turn instruct thee
how the light may be spread among a people
who yet live in darkness because their rulers
hide the light.  He is a man of a stout heart,
moreover, and will draw the sword for thee at
the hour when thou proclaimest the Jehad.*'

.. vspace:: 1

"Senussi-el-Mahdi read this calmly and without
visible emotion.  There was no outburst
of cordiality such as I had hoped for; there
was no outburst of anger such as I had feared
in the event of his guessing that I had come
to him with forged credentials.  Perhaps he
had some faint suspicions; perhaps he was
only following the ordinary rule of procedure
in such cases.  I cannot say.  I only know
that his manner was cold and judicious—like
that of a schoolmaster to whom a new boy
has been brought to be examined.

"'You are sent to me for instruction?  It
is well.  Speak, then, and tell me if thou
knowest the Koran.'

"It was a question that I was not prepared
for, but I blurted out an ambiguous
answer.

"'I know a little of most things, and my
memory is good.  As for the Koran, I know
a very good translation of it, on which
the skilled opinion of a scholar of your
eminence——'

"'So thou knowest not the Koran,' interrupted
Senussi-el-Mahdi pitilessly.  'Or
shall I question thee therein?'

"This, too, was a proposal which I had not
anticipated.  It is not impossible that my
face may have shown signs of my confusion.
I stammered out the only excuse that
occurred to me—

"'I have had a long journey, and am
tired.  With rest and preparation—

"But once more Senussi-el-Mahdi stopped me.

"'It is well,' he said.  'Thou knowest not
the Koran.  But thou hast asked for
instruction, and thou shalt be instructed.
When thou hast learnt the Koran, I will hear
thee further on the subject of the letter.'

"And he motioned to the guards, saying—

"'Conduct him to the school, and place
him in the lowest class.'

"Need I say that things were happening by
no means as I had intended them to happen?
Need I add that the word 'instruct' would
never have appeared in my credentials had I
surmised that it would be interpreted so
literally?  Yet it is clear, I think, that at the
moment no useful alternative to doing as I
was told was open to me.  So I followed my guides.

"No violence was used to me; no harsh
words were spoken; though I must have
been a puzzle to the inhabitants, they were
too well disciplined to show it—all of them,
that is to say, except Bottled Bass, who
grinned at me with gleaming teeth.

"They showed me to the room that I was
to live in.  It was close to the residence of
the Senussi himself, who wished, I suppose,
to keep an eye on me.  And then they put
me to school.  I—*moi qui vous parle*—a man
of much general knowledge and wide experience
of life, was put to school—and in the
lowest class!  I had to sit, cross-legged, in
the midst of a semicircle of negro boys, while
a learned Arab, with a stick and a manuscript,
sat in the centre and taught.

"'No matter,' I said to myself, 'my time
will come, and I will bide my time, and earn
my promised fee.'

"But I was curious to know the term of my
probation; and I put the question to my
teacher as politely as I could.

"'In view, sir,' I said, 'of the zeal for
knowledge which I am demonstrating, would
you mind informing me how long this
interesting course of instruction is to last?'

"'You are as a little child,' he answered
kindly, 'but it may, be, if Allah wills it,
that in seven years you will have acquired
the knowledge of a man.'

"Seven years of this tomfoolery!  It was
too terrible!  My heart sank and my temper
rose—the more so when I perceived that
Bottled Bass, who was also a member of the
lowest class, was grinning; and I retorted
hotly—

"'Do you take me for a fool, then?  A
little Koran is all very well in its way; but
seven years of it!  If you can't shorten
the course considerably, sir, I'll get up and
walk out of the place!'

"The teacher answered, more in sorrow than
in anger, that my words should be laid before
Senussi-el-Mahdi.  He went out to report
them, and presently returned, and said, still
more in sorrow than in anger—

"'El-Mahdi says that it is written that you
shall be chastised, in order that you may learn
humility.'

"And, almost before I knew what was
happening, my teacher had motioned to two tall
serving-men, and they had laid me on my back,
holding my feet in the air, and the good old
man himself was caning the soles of my feet.

"I know not whether the pain or the
indignity was the worse, for both were very
great.  But the pain passed and the indignity
remained.  The more I reflected on the
matter, the more certainly I felt that my
position in the sacred city was untenable.
Neither for the cause of Ireland nor for my
promised fee would I consent to sit for seven
years learning the Koran, and being caned
when I displeased my teacher.

"Yet how to get away—that was indeed a
knotty problem to think out.  My teacher
himself, who bore me no ill-will, but had
merely punished me for what he considered
to be my good, told me, in the kindness of his
heart, that it would be impossible to get away.

"'Though thou shouldst take the swiftest
camel in the city,' he said, 'yet wouldst thou
be overtaken.  For among the gifts of God
to Senussi-el-Mahdi is this gift: he throws
himself into a trance so that none can wake
him, and his dreams are messages that flash
across the desert, and become answering
dreams in the brains of other faithful followers
of the Prophet.  Thus would he speed word
of thy escape, and the faithful would lie in
wait for thee and bring thee back.  Wherefore
be comforted, for it is written that thou
shalt stay with us, and become, in the fulness
of time, a holy man.'

"This time I did not answer hotly, having
learnt from experience that it would be
better not to do so; but I withdrew to
meditate.

"'*Voyons!*' I said to myself.  'Let me
think things out.  Surely I have thought out
things as difficult in other days!'

"And so I gradually framed my plan,
examining it and adding to it nightly while
I lay awake.  This is how the plan slowly
built itself—

"'Shall I slip over the wall and get away
at night?  It might be done, but it would
be of no use.  I should only be in the desert,
where I should die of thirst.  Shall I steal a
camel?  But one cannot steal a camel quite
so easily as one can steal a cat or dog—nor
can one lift a camel over a wall at night.
What then?  There is no way of going
without Senussi-el-Mahdi's leave.'

"Thus I began thinking; and as night
succeeded night my thoughts took more
useful shape.

"'How to get leave to go?  If I could lay
Senussi-el-Mahdi under some great obligation—but
that is hard.  He is not the man to be
sensible of obligations.  He will let me go
only if he can be made to feel that it is to
his interest to be rid of me.'

"That narrowed the problem.  But how to
prove to Senussi-el-Mahdi that it would be
well for him to let me go?  It took at least
three weeks' hard thought to settle that;
but, at the end of the three weeks, light
flashed upon me.

"'*Voyons!*' I cried.  'He has trances,
and when he is in a trance——'

"I did not dare to speak aloud the thought
that was in my mind; but I nursed it, filling
in the details, and waiting patiently.

"As I have told you, I slept in a room quite
near Senussi-el-Mahdi's own, and I now made
it my rule every night to creep on tiptoe to
his chamber and peep through his curtains
to see whether his sleep was a trance or not.
Night after night I crept back disappointed.
But the night came at last when I saw that
he lay stiff and still, with his eyes wide open
and yet seeing nothing; and I knew that at
last the hour for action had arrived.

"'He will either murder me or let me go,'
I said to myself.  'I will take the risk.  It
is the only way.'

"With that I crept back to my own room,
and fumbling in the dark among my belongings,
found my razor.  I looked out of the
window to make sure that no one saw or
heard me; but the city was silent, save for
the dismal howling of stray dogs, and the
watchman pacing on the walls.  Then I lit a
tiny lamp, and covering it with my hand,
crept back to where the Senussi lay.

"To murder him?  A poor plan that in a
city where every man would be eager to
avenge his death.  To threaten him?  He
was hardly a man who would keep a promise
made under the influence of threats.  I had a
plan that promised better.

"'It is a great art, the barber's!' I
whispered to myself, as I mixed the lather
and plastered it gently on his chin.

"He did not wake; he did not even stir.
His soul was far away, communing with the
souls of other pious Musselmans elsewhere;
and while it wandered, I—*moi qui vous
parle*—shaved Senussi-el-Mahdi where he lay.

"To what purpose?  You will begin to grasp
my purpose when I describe the manner in
which I shaved him.

"For I did not shave him altogether; nor
did I shave him precisely as the barbers
shave.  Far from it.  On the contrary, I
shaved off the beard on the right side of his
face and the hair on the same side of his head;
and then I took cosmetics and twisted out his
great moustache until it stretched six inches or
more either way, like furious spikes of straw.

"'Now for a looking-glass,' I said to
myself; and having found a mirror, I so fixed
it that, when Senussi-el-Mahdi woke, he would
look straight into it and see his altered image.

"To what purpose?  Surely you have
guessed.  But I had not yet quite finished
my strange task.

"'*Voyons, mon cher,*' I went on, soliloquising:
'I think I should like your portrait as
a souvenir.'

"So I crept back once more and fetched my
camera, and blew magnesium powder through
the flame of the little lamp to make a
flash-light, and took my snap-shot of
Senussi-el-Mahdi in his trance.

"The flash aroused him from his slumbers.
His eyes opened, and he saw the reflection
of his face.  Doubtless he would have yelled
in his amazement, but I took a quick step
forward and clapped my hands upon his mouth.

"My self-possession and my quick wit had
now returned to me.  I was no longer the
schoolboy, humbled and chastised.  I was
Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski, master
of the situation.  My tongue was loosened,
and my words flowed quickly.

"'You know me?' I began.  'I am Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski.'

"Senussi-el-Mahdi nodded his grotesque
head slowly.  Half his proud spirit seemed to
have left him with the loss of half his hair.

"'You have trampled on me,' I continued,
'you have insulted me; you have inflicted
shameful indignities on me.  But no man with
impunity treats Jean Antoine Stromboli
Kosnapulski thus; and now my hour has come.'

"A menace was rising to his lips; but I had
only to hold the mirror once more before him
to subdue him.  As I have said, his
self-confidence forsook him when he saw how
ridiculous he looked.  I continued—

"'You have made me speak to you humbly
as a pupil to his master—as a sinner to a
saint.  But that is over now.  I have treated
you with ignominy, even as you treated me;
and now that account is squared between us,
I speak to you as man to man.'

"'Dog of a—' he began; but once more
I held the mirror to him, and he changed his
tone, and merely asked—

"'What would you have with me, then?'

"'Listen,' I replied.  'I know well that
you have but to speak the word to have me
slain.  But I know also—and you, too,
know—that, if you speak that word, the reputation
of Senussi-el-Mahdi is for ever lost.  Think of
it, then!  A Mahdi with half a beard and
half a head of hair, and a waxed moustache
like a Hungarian hussar's!  The thing is too
ridiculous!  It could not be.'

"And once more I emphasised my criticisms
with the mirror; and he looked at me with
impotent rage, and did not speak.

"'Listen,' I continued.  'You can keep
your holy reputation only if you hide your
shame by veiling yourself until your beard
has grown again; you may even acquire an
added holiness.  Who knows?  But you can
only keep your secret if you let me depart from
Jarabub in peace.  What say you, Holy Man?'

"He still seemed to hesitate; but this time I
had merely to point to the mirror to decide him.

"'Depart in peace,' he said.

"'But I shall need guides and an escort,'
I replied.

"'You shall have them.'

"'And a letter of safe conduct.  Take your
pen and write.'

"I put the materials before him, and he
wrote at my dictation:—

.. vspace:: 1

"'*Senussi-el-Mahdi to all whom it may
concern.  Greeting—*

"'*Jean Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski, the
stranger within my gates, goeth on a high errand
for me to Cairo.  Let him have guides and
camels.  Let him start at once.  Protect him
and speed him on his way.*'

.. vspace:: 1

"'Good,' I said; but then I remembered
something else.

"There were his trances, and the murderous
messages that he might send in them.  Against
that risk also I must make provision.  So I
made him add—

.. vspace:: 1

"'*Take warning, also, that there is a certain
false prophet, an enemy of the stranger, who
sendeth messages in my name.  Haply he will
send false messages compassing the stranger's
death.  Know, therefore, that such messages come
not from me; and slay any man who seeks to
harm one hair of the stranger's head.  And in
the meantime, let none disturb me for two days*.'

.. vspace:: 1

"'Now sign it,' I said.  And Senussi-el-Mahdi
signed; and having gained my end,
I once more treated him with courtesy and
consideration.

"'Farewell,' I said.  'May Allah make
your hair and beard grow quickly!  For your
hospitality—such as it was—I thank you.
Rest assured that I shall guard at least one
pleasant recollection of my sojourn here.'

"With that I bowed several times, and
walking backwards respectfully, gradually
left the room.

"And so—as I had no trouble in the
desert—my adventure ended happily.

"My fee, indeed, is still unpaid; but I have
not ceased to hope for it.  Even now the
Sect of the Senussi agitates and causes
trouble; and many Irish members, having
made wealthy marriages, are in a position to
recompense, with interest on the over-due
account, the service rendered them by Jean
Antoine Stromboli Kosnapulski."

.. vspace:: 4

.. class: center medium

THE END.

.. vspace:: 4

.. class: center small

WARD, LOCK & Co., LTD., LONDON, NEW YORK, & MELBOURNE.

.. vspace:: 6

.. pgfooter::