Rasula’s jaw hung limp in the face of this amazing exhibition of courage on the part of the enemy.  He could not at first believe his eyes.  Hoarse, inarticulate cries came from his froth-covered lips.  He was glaring insanely at the calm, triumphant face of the man from Brodney’s, who was now advancing upon him with the assurance of a conqueror.

“You see, Rasula, I have called for the cruiser and it has come at my bidding.”  Turning to the crowd that surged up from behind, cowed and cringing, Chase said:  “It rests with you.  If I give the word, that ship will blow you from the face of the earth.  I am your friend, people.  I would you no harm, but good.  You have been misled by Rasula.  Rasula, you are not a fool.  You can save yourself, even now.  I am here as the servant of these people, not as their master.  I intend to remain here until I am called back by the man who sent me to you.  You have——­”

Rasula uttered a shriek of rage.  He had been crouching back among his cohorts, panting with fury.  Now he sprang forward, murder in his eyes.  His arm was raised and a great pistol was levelled at the breast of the man who faced him so coolly, so confidently.  Deppingham shouted and took a step forward to divert the aim of the frenzied lawyer.

A revolver cracked behind the tall American and Rasula stopped in his tracks.  There was a great hole in his forehead; his eyes were bursting; he staggered backward, his knees gave way; and, as the blood filled the hole and streamed down his face, he sank to the ground—­dead!

The soldier from Rapp-Thorberg, a smoking pistol in his hand, the other raised to his helmet, stepped to the side of Hollingsworth Chase.

“By order of Her Serene Highness, sir,” he said quietly.

“Good God!” gasped Chase, passing his hand across his brow.  For a full minute there was no sound to be heard on the pier except the lapping of the waves.  Deppingham, repressing a shudder, addressed the stunned natives.

“Take the body away.  May that be the end of all assassins!”

* * * * *

The King’s Own came alongside the American vessel in less than an hour.  Accompanied by the British agent, Mr. Bowles, Chase and Deppingham left the dock in the company’s tug and steamed out toward the two monsters.  The American had made no move to send men ashore, nor had the British agent deemed it wise to ask aid of the Yankees in view of the fact that a vessel of his own nation was approaching.

Standing on the forward deck of the swift little tug, Chase unconcernedly accounted for the timely arrival of the two cruisers.

“Three weeks ago I sent out letters by the mail steamer, to be delivered to the English or American commanders, wherever they might be found.  Undoubtedly they were met with in the same port.  That is why I was so positive that help would come, sooner or later.  It was very simple.  Lord Deppingham, merely a case of foresightedness.  I knew that we’d need help and I knew that if I brought the cruisers my power over these people would never be disturbed again.”