rill with passion, 'by the time I
have done with you your mothers in their graves will weep that they
ever bore you!'

It was Blenkiron who spoke. His voice was as level as the chairman's
of a bogus company, and it fell on that turbid atmosphere like acid on
grease.

'I don't take no stock in high-falutin'. If you're trying to scare me
by that dime-novel talk I guess you've hit the wrong man. You're like
the sweep that stuck in the chimney, a bit too big for your job. I
reckon you've a talent for romance that's just wasted in soldiering.
But if you're going to play any ugly games on me I'd like you to know
that I'm an American citizen, and pretty well considered in my own
country and in yours, and you'll sweat blood for it later. That's a
fair warning, Colonel Stumm.'

I don't know what Stumm's plans were, but that speech of Blenkiron's
put into his mind just the needed amount of uncertainty. You see, he
had Peter and me right enough, but he hadn't properly connected
Blenkiron with us, and was afraid either to hit out at all three, or to
let Blenkiron go. It was lucky for us that the American had cut such a
dash in the Fatherland.

'There is no hurry,' he said blandly. 'We shall have long happy hours
together. I'm going to take you all home with me, for I am a
hospitable soul. You will be safer with me than in the town gaol, for
it's a trifle draughty. It lets things in, and it might let things
out.'

Again he gave an order, and we were marched out, each with a soldier at
his elbow. The three of us were bundled into the back seat of the car,
while two men sat before us with their rifles between their knees, one
got up behind on the baggage rack, and one sat beside Stumm's
chauffeur. Packed like sardines we moved into the bleak streets, above
which the stars twinkled in ribbons of sky.

Hussin had disappeared from the face of the earth, and quite right too.
He was a good fellow, but he had no call to mix himself up in our
troubles.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sparrows on the Housetops

'I've often regretted,' said Blenkiron, 'that miracles have left off
happening.'

He got no answer, for I was feeling the walls for something in the
nature of a window.

'For I reckon,' he went on, 'that it wants a good old-fashioned
copper-bottomed miracle to get us out of this fix. It's plumb against
all my principles. I've spent my life using the talents God gave me to
keep things from getting to the point of ru