making a speech! Why, he never says anything but '_Oui,
monsieur_,' or '_Non, monsieur_,' which is all the French he knows.
Well, this is a day of wonders, anyhow."

Neglecting the precautions he had insisted on a minute earlier, Alec
himself went to the window and drew Joan with him. There were two other
windows in the room; but the four clustered in the one deep recess, for
the thick walls of this old building were meant to defy extremes of heat
and cold. By this time one of the two orderlies had dismounted and was
stamping on his smart cavalry jacket and plumed shako, thus announcing
by eloquent pantomime, that he was discarding forever the livery of a
tyrant.

The mob in the street was now swollen to unrecognizable dimensions, and
Alec's charger, which Bosko was holding, resented the uproar by lashing
out viciously with his heels. A man who had narrowly escaped being
kicked drew a revolver, fired, and the spirited Arab fell with a bullet
in its brain. The dastardly act was cheered; for the Seventh Regiment
remembered that this same white horse had stumbled and thrown King
Theodore on the day of his murder.

"Oh, the coward, the hateful coward!" wailed Joan, and two of the men
muttered expressions of opinion that must be passed over in silence.

But Felix happened to be watching Bosko, and noted the black rage that
convulsed his face when the Arab dropped dead at his feet. The
Albanian's feelings mastered him only for an instant.

He began at once to harangue the crowd again, evidently offering to lead
his own horse out of harm's way, and loudly bidding his frightened
comrade to do likewise.

A path was being cleared when some one looked up at the window, and a
fierce yell proclaimed the King's presence. Bosko was forgotten. Sight
of their quarry had frenzied the pack.

"Down everyone!" cried Alec, bending double and dragging Joan with him.

Several panes of glass were starred with little round holes, mortar fell
from the ceiling, and the crackle of shots below showed that revolvers
were popular in Delgratz. But Felix had seen enough to set his shrewd
wits working.

"That man of yours--is Bosko his name?--is no fool," said he, when they
had crept from the glass strewn area into the shelter of the stout wall.
"He is gulling your beloved subjects, Alec. He realizes that trouble is
brewing, and he means to steal off and bring help. Fortunately, my brave
Sobieski will be at the President's house by this time,