with his divine might.  He told the lawyer to go hang or something equivalent.  The lawyer knocked him down.  By George, I’d like to have seen it!  From the way Bowles tells it, he must have knocked him down so incessantly in the next five minutes that Von Blitz’s attempts to stand up were nothing short of a stutter.  Moreover, he wouldn’t let Von Blitz stab him worth a cent.  Bowles says he’s got Von Blitz cowed, and the whole town is walking in circles, it’s so dizzy.  Von Blitz’s wives threaten to kill the lawyer, but I guess they won’t.  Bowles says that all the Persian and Turkish women on the island are crazy about the fellow.”

“Mr. Britt!” protested Mrs. Browne.

“Beg pardon.  Perhaps Bowles is wrong.  Well, to make it short, the lawyer has got Von Blitz to hating him secretly, and the German has a lot of influence over the people.  It may be uncomfortable for our good-looking friend.  If he didn’t seem so well able to look out for himself, I’d feel mighty uneasy about him.  After all, he’s a white man and a good fellow, I imagine.”

“If he should be in great danger down there,” said her ladyship firmly—­perhaps consciously—­“we must offer him a safe retreat in the chateau.”  The others looked at her in surprise.  “We can’t stand off and see him murdered, you know,” she qualified hastily.

The next morning a messenger came up from the town with a letter directed to Messrs. Britt and Saunders.  It was from the Enemy, and requested them to meet him in private conference at four that afternoon.  “I think it will be for the benefit of all concerned if we can get together,” wrote the Enemy in conclusion.

“He’s weakening,” mused Britt, experiencing a sense of disappointment over his countryman’s fallibility.  “My word for it, Saunders, he’s going to propose an armistice of some sort.  He can’t keep up the bluff.”

“Shocking bad form, writing to us like this,” said Saunders reflectively.  “As if we’d go into any agreement with the fellow.  I’m sure Lady Deppingham wouldn’t consider it for a moment.”

The messenger carried back with him a dignified response in which the counsellors for Mr. Browne and Lady Deppingham respectfully declined to engage in any conference at this time.

At two o’clock that afternoon the entire force of native servants picked up their belongings, and marched out of the chateau.  Britt stormed and threatened, but the inscrutable Mohammedans shook their heads and hastened toward the gates.  Despair reigned in the chateau; tears and lamentations were no more effective than blasphemy.  The major-domo, suave and deferential, gravely informed Mr. Britt that they were leaving at the instigation of their legal adviser, who had but that hour issued his instructions.

“I hope you are not forgetting what I said about the American gunboats,” said Britt ponderously.