The two rival monarchs looked at one another in silence for a moment, and then both began to speak at once, their counsellors interrupting them and mumbling their guttural comments with anxious earnestness.  It did not take them very long to see that they were all of one mind, and then they both turned to Gordon and dropped on one knee, and placed his hands on their foreheads, and Stedman raised his cap.

“They agree,” he explained, for it was but pantomime to Albert.  “They salute you as a ruler; they are calling you Tellaman, which means peacemaker.  The Peacemaker, that is your title.  I hope you will deserve it, but I think they might have chosen a more appropriate one.”

“Then I’m really King?” demanded Albert, decidedly, “and I can do what I please?  They give me full power.  Quick, do they?”

“Yes, but don’t do it,” begged Stedman, “and just remember I am American consul now, and that is a much superior being to a crowned monarch; you said so yourself.”

Albert did not reply to this, but ran across the plaza followed by the two Bradleys.  The boats had gone.

“Hoist that flag beside the brass cannon,” he cried, “and stand ready to salute it when I drop this one.”

Bradley, Jr., grasped the halliards of the flag, which he had forgotten to raise and salute in the morning in all the excitement of the arrival of the man-of-war.  Bradley, Sr., stood by the brass cannon, blowing gently on his lighted fuse.  The Peacemaker took the halliards of the German flag in his two hands, gave a quick, sharp tug, and down came the red, white, and black piece of bunting, and the next moment young Bradley sent the stars and stripes up in their place.  As it rose, Bradley’s brass cannon barked merrily like a little bull-dog, and the Peacemaker cheered.

“What don’t you cheer, Stedman?” he shouted.  “Tell those people to cheer for all they are worth.  What sort of an American consul are you?”

Stedman raised his arm half-heartedly to give the time, and opened his mouth; but his arm remained fixed and his mouth open, while his eyes stared at the retreating boat of the German man-of-war.  In the stern sheets of this boat, the stout German captain was struggling unsteadily to his feet; he raised his arm and waved it to some one on the great man-of-war, as though giving an order.  The natives looked from Stedman to the boat, and even Gordon stopped in his cheering and stood motionless, watching.  They had not very long to wait.  There was a puff of white smoke, and a flash, and then a loud report, and across the water came a great black ball skipping lightly through and over the waves, as easily as a flat stone thrown by a boy.  It seemed to come very slowly.  At least it came slowly enough for every one to see that it was coming directly towards the brass cannon.  The Bradleys certainly saw this, for they ran as fast as they could, and kept on running.  The ball caught the cannon under its mouth, and tossed it in the air, knocking the flag-pole into a dozen pieces, and passing on through two of the palm-covered huts.