Plainly the launch had come from British East, of which Schubert had spoken.  Hand in hand from the water-front, followed by the obsequious Schubert, all smiles and long black whip (for the chain-gang trailed after with the luggage, and needed to be overawed), walked Professor Schillingschen and Lady Isobel Saffren Waldon.  They seemed in love—­or at any rate the professor did, for he ogled and smirked like a bearded gargoyle; and she made such play of being charmed by his grimaces that the Syrian maid fell behind to hide her face.

None of us spoke.  We watched them.  Personally I did not mind the feeling that the worst had happened at last.  I was incapable of sounding further depths of gloom—­too full of pain bodily to suffer mentally from threats of what might yet be.  But the other two looked miserable—­more so because Fred’s bearded chin perked up so bravely, and Will set his jaw like a rock.

Not one of us had said a word when the biggest askari we had seen yet strode up to us—­saluted—­and gave Fred a sealed envelope.  It was written in English, addressed to us three by name (although our names were wrongly spelled).  We were required to present ourselves at the court-house at once, reason not given.  The letter was signed “Liebenkrantz,—­Lieutenant.”

The askari waited for us.  I suppose it would not be correct to say we were under arrest, but the enormous black man made it sufficiently obvious that he did not intend returning to the court without us.  The court-house was not more than two hundred yards away.  As we turned toward it we saw Lady Saffren Waldon being helped into the commandant’s litter, borne by four men, the commandant himself superintending the ceremony with a vast deal of bowing and chatter, and Professor Schillingschen looking on with an air of owning litter, porters, township, boma, and all.  As we turned our backs on them they started off toward the neat white dwelling on the hill.

The court was a round, grass- roofed affair, with white-washed walls of sun-dried brick.  For about four-fifths of the circumference the wall was barely breast-high, the roof being supported on wooden pillars bricked into the wall, as well as by the huge pole that propped it up umbrella-wise in the center.

The remaining fifth of the wall continued up as high as the roof, forming a back to the platform.  Facing the platform was the entrance, and on either side benches arranged in rows followed the curve of the wall.  There was a long table on the platform, at which sat the lieutenant who had summoned us, with a sergeant seated on either hand.  The sergeants were acting as court clerks, scribbling busily on sheets of blue paper, and in books.

Behind the lieutenant, in a great gilt frame on the white-washed wall, was a full-length portrait of the Kaiser in general’s uniform.  The Kaiser was depicted scowling, his gloved hands resting on a saber almost as ferocious-looking as the one the lieutenant kept winding his leg around.