man whose ponderous red-visaged body was simply the crude instrument through which spoke the marvelous spirit that had enslaved thousands to him, that had enthralled a state legislature and that had hypnotized a federal jury into giving him back his freedom when evidence smothered him in crime.  He felt himself sinking in the presence of this man and struggled fiercely to regain himself.  He withdrew his hand and straightened himself like a soldier.

“I have come to you with a grievance, Mr. Strang,” he began.  “A grievance which I feel sure you will do your best to right.  Perhaps you are aware that some little time ago—­about two weeks back—­your people boarded my ship in force and robbed me of several thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise.”

Strang had drawn a step back.

“Aware of it!” he exclaimed in a voice that shook the room.  “Aware of it!” The red of his face turned purple and he clenched his free hand in sudden passion.  “Aware of it!” He repeated the words, this time so gently that Nathaniel could scarcely hear them, and tapped his heavy stick upon the floor.  “No, Captain Plum, I was not aware of it.  If I had been—­” He shrugged his thick shoulders.  The movement, and a sudden gleam of his teeth through his beard, were expressive enough for Nathaniel to understand.

Then the king smiled.

“Are you sure—­are you quite sure, Captain Plum, that it was my people who attacked your ship?  If so, of course you must have some proof?”

“We were very near to Beaver Island and many miles from the mainland,” said Nathaniel.  “It could only have been your people.”

“Ah!”

Strang led the way to a table at the farther end of the room and motioned Nathaniel to a seat opposite him.

“We are a much persecuted people, Captain Plum, very much persecuted indeed.”  His wonderful voice trembled with a subdued pathos.  “We have answered for many sins that have never been ours, Captain Plum, and among them are robbery, piracy and even murder.  The people along the coasts are deadly enemies to us—­who would be their friends; they commit crimes in our name and we do not retaliate.  It was not my people who waylaid your vessel.  They were fishermen, probably, who came from the Michigan shore and awaited their opportunity off Beaver Island.  But I shall investigate this; believe me, I shall investigate this fully, Captain Plum!”

Nathaniel felt something like a great choking fist shoot up into his throat.  It was not a sensation of fear but of humiliation—­the humiliation of defeat, the knowledge of his own weakness in the hands of this man who had so quickly and so surely blocked his claim.  His quick brain saw the futility of argument.  He possessed no absolute proof and he had thought that he needed none.  Strang saw the flash of doubt in his face, the hesitancy in his answer; he divined the working of the other’s brain and in his soft voice, purring with friendship, he followed up his triumph.