“We can afford to wait a year,” Rasula had said in another mass meeting after the two months of suspense which preceded the discovery that grandchildren really existed.  “There is the bare possibility that they may never marry each other,” he added sententiously.  Later came the news that marriage between the heirs was out of the question.  Then the islanders laughed as they toiled.  But they were not to be caught napping.  Jacob von Blitz, the superintendent, stolid German that he was, saw far into the future.  It was he who set the native lawyer unceremoniously aside and urged competent representation in London.  The great law firm headed by Sir John Brodney was chosen; a wide-awake representative of the distinguished solicitors was now on his way to the island with the swarthy committee which had created so much interest in the metropolis during its brief stay.

Jacob von Blitz came to the island when he was twenty years old.  That was twenty years before the death of Taswell Skaggs.  He had worked in the South African diamond fields and had no difficulty in securing employment with Skaggs and Wyckholme.  Those were the days when the two Englishmen slaved night and day in the mines; they needed white men to stand beside them, for they looked ahead and saw what the growing discontent among the islanders was sure to mean in the end.

Von Blitz gradually lifted labour and responsibility from their shoulders; he became a valued man, not alone because of his ability as an overseer, but on account of the influence he had gained over the natives.  It was he who acted as intermediary at the time of the revolt, many years before the opening of this tale.  Through him the two issues were pooled; the present co-operative plan was the result.  For this he was promptly accepted by both sides as deserving of a share corresponding to that of each native.  From that day, he cast his lot with the islanders; it was to him that they turned in every hour of difficulty.

Von Blitz was shrewd enough to see that the grandchildren were not coming to the island for the mere pleasure of sojourning there; their motive was plain.  It was he who advised—­even commanded—­the horde of servants to desert the chateau.  If they had been able to follow his advice, the new residents would have been without “help” to the end of their stay.  The end of their stay, he figured, would not be many weeks from its beginning if they were compelled to dwell there without the luxury of servants.  Bowles often related the story of Von Blitz’s rage when he found that the recalcitrants had been persuaded to resume work by the American lawyer.

He lived, with his three wives, in the hills just above and south of the town itself.  The Englishmen who worked in the bank, and the three Boer foremen also, had houses up there where it was cooler, but Von Blitz was the only one who practised polygamy.  His wives were Persian women and handsome after the Persian fashion.