“That doesn’t tell anything,” said Gordon.  “But it’s plain enough.  Some foreign ship of war has settled on this place as a coaling-station, or has annexed it for colonization, and they’ve sent a boat ashore, and they’ve made a treaty with this old chap, and forced him to sell his birthright for a mess of porridge.  Now, that’s just like those monarchical pirates, imposing upon a poor old black.”

Old Bradley looked at him impudently.

“Not at all,” said Gordon; “it’s quite different with us; we don’t want to rob him or Ollypybus, or to annex their land.  All we want to do is to improve it, and have the fun of running it for them and meddling in their affairs of state.  Well, Stedman,” he said, “what shall we do?”

Stedman said that the best and only thing to do was to threaten to take the watch away from Messenwah, but to give him a revolver instead, which would make a friend of him for life, and to keep him supplied with cartridges only as long as he behaved himself, and then to make him understand that, as Ollypybus had not given his consent to the loss of the island, Messenwah’s agreement, or treaty, or whatever it was, did not stand, and that he had better come down the next day, early in the morning, and join in a general consultation.  This was done, and Messenwah agreed willingly to their proposition, and was given his revolver and shown how to shoot it, while the other presents were distributed among the other men, who were as happy over them as girls with a full dance-card.

“And now, to-morrow,” said Stedman, “understand, you are all to come down unarmed, and sign a treaty with great Ollypybus, in which he will agree to keep to one-half of the island if you keep to yours, and there must be no more wars or goat-stealing, or this gentleman on my right and I will come up and put holes in you just as the gentleman on the left did with the goat.”

Messenwah and his warriors promised to come early, and saluted reverently as Gordon and his three companions walked up together very proudly and stiffly.

“Do you know how I feel?” said Gordon.

“How?” asked Stedman.

“I feel as I used to do in the city, when the boys in the street were throwing snowballs, and I had to go by with a high hat on my head and pretend not to know they were behind me.  I always felt a cold chill down my spinal column, and I could feel that snowball, whether it came or not, right in the small of my back.  And I can feel one of those men pulling his bow now, and the arrow sticking out of my right shoulder.”

“Oh, no, you can’t,” said Stedman.  “They are too much afraid of those rifles.  But I do feel sorry for any of those warriors whom old man Messenwah doesn’t like, now that he has that revolver.  He isn’t the sort to practise on goats.”

There was great rejoicing when Stedman and Gordon told their story to the King, and the people learned that they were not to have their huts burned and their cattle stolen.  The armed Opekians formed a guard around the ambassadors and escorted them to their homes with cheers and shouts, and the women ran to their side and tried to kiss Gordon’s hand.