she was puffing and booming to an unconscionable degree,
and whom people were laughing at. Captain Sarrasin would have seen that
his wife was unconsciously 'bossing the show,' and while professing to
act entirely under his command was really doing everything for him--was
writing his life while declaring to everybody that he was writing it
himself. Now they were like two children--like brother and
sister--wrapped up in each other, hardly conscious of any outer world,
or, perhaps, still more like two child-lovers--like Paul and Virginia
grown old in years, but not in feelings. The Dictator loved humour, but
he began to feel just now rather glad that there were some mortals who
did not see the ridiculous side of life. He felt curiously touched and
softened.

Suddenly the military butler came in and touched his forehead with a
sort of military salute.

'Telegram for his Excellency,' he said gravely.

Ericson took the telegram. 'May I?' he asked of Mrs. Sarrasin, who made
quite a circuitous bow of utter assent.

Ericson read.

'Will you meet me to-night at eleven, on bridge, St. James's Park. Have
special reason.--Hamilton.'

Ericson was puzzled.

'This is curious,' he said, looking up at his two friends. 'This is a
telegram from my friend and secretary and aide-de-camp, and I don't know
what else--Hamilton--asking me to meet him in St. James's Park, on the
bridge, at eleven o'clock. Now, that is a place I am fond of going
to--and Hamilton has gone there with me--but why he should want to meet
me there and not at home rather puzzles me.'

'Perhaps,' Captain Sarrasin suggested, 'there is someone coming to see
you at your hotel later on, for whose coming Mr. Hamilton wishes to
prepare you.'

'Yes, I have thought of that,' Ericson said meditatively; 'but then he
signs himself in an odd sort of way.'

'Eh, how is that?' Sarrasin asked. 'It _is_ his name, surely, is it
not--Hamilton?'

'Yes, but I had got into a way years ago of always calling him "the
Boy," and he got into a way of signing himself "Boy" in all our
confidential communications, and I haven't for years got a telegram from
him that wasn't signed "Boy."'

Mrs. Sarrasin sent a flash of her eyes that was like a danger signal to
her husband. He at once understood, and sent another signal to her.

'Of course I must go,' Ericson said. 'Whatever Hamilton does, he has
good reason for doing. One can always trust him in that.'

Captain Sarrasin was about t