blackened and blackguardly stokers
still dangled their legs over the rail and made motions which caused
the officials to shudder and the ladies to shut their eyes.

The agent of the vessel in Papeete, an American, appeared. He talked
long and earnestly with the secretary-general and the first and second,
and to lend even a darker color to the scene, the procureur-general,
the Martinique black, tall, protuberant, mopping his bald head, took
the center of the conclave. Noses were lowered and brought together,
feet were stamped, hands were wiggled behind backs, and right along
the American, the agent, talked and talked.

They demurred, they spat on the boards, they lifted their hands
aloft--and then they ordered the pilot to return to the Noa-Noa, and
that vessel, whistling long and relievedly, pointed her nose toward
the opening in the reef.

Mon Dieu! the suspense was over. The people melted toward their homes
and the restaurants, for it was nearly seven o'clock. I drifted into
the knot about the officials.

"It is in the archives," said the secretary-general. "It will go down
in history. That is enough."

The delightful M. Lontane, in khaki riding breeches,--he, as all
police, ride bicycles--his khaki helmet tipped rakishly over his
cigarette, blew a ringlet.

"C'est comme ca. We would not press our victory," he said
gallantly. "We French are generous. We have hearts."

The secretary-general, the procureur-general, the first in command
and the private secretary, sighted the carriage of the governor,
who had not appeared until the Noa-Noa was out of the lagoon, and
they went to tell him of the great affair.

The agent of the line, grim and unsmiling, climbed to the wide veranda
of the Cercle Bougainville, and ordered a Scotch and siphon.

"There she goes," he said to me, and pointed to the steamer streaking
through the reef gate. "There she goes, and I'm bloody well satisfied."

At tea the next afternoon the British consul cast a new light on the
international incident. He was playing bridge with the governor and
others when the demand for the warrants was brought.

"The blighters interrupted our rubber," said the consul, "and the
governor was exceedingly put out. I told them the Noa-Noa couldn't
proceed without the stokers, and as it carries the French mail, they
patched it up to arrest them when they return. We quite lost track
of the game for a few minutes."

But the cruel war would not down. There was