k it up, till the rising tide
of voices drowned my fervent periods. Perforce I stopped. They were
all on their feet now. Did they mean to break up? In despair at the
idea I lifted up my voice, loud and distinct (the only distinct
voice left in the room), in the most shameful verse of that shameful
composition, and seizing my neighbor's hand began to move slowly round
the table. The move was successful. Each man followed suit, and the
whole party, kicking back their chairs, revolved with lurching steps
round the _debris_ of empty bottles and cigar ashes.

The room was thick with smoke, and redolent of fumes of wine.
Mechanically I led the chorus, straining every nerve to hear a sound
from outside. I was growing dizzy with the movement, and, overwrought
with the strain on my nerves. I knew a few minutes more would be the
limit of endurance, when at last I heard a loud shout and tumult of
voices.

"What's that?" exclaimed the major, in thick tones, pausing as he
spoke.

I dropped his hand, and, seizing my revolver, said:

"Some drunken row in barracks, major. Let 'em alone."

"I must go," he said. "Character--Aureataland--army--at stake."

"Set a thief to catch a thief, eh, major?" said I.

"What do you mean, sir?" he stuttered. "Let me go."

"If you move, I shoot, major," said I, bringing out my weapon.

I never saw greater astonishment on human countenance. He swore
loudly, and then cried:

"Hi, stop him--he's mad--he's going to shoot!"

A shout of laughter rose from the crew around us, for they felt
exquisite appreciation of my supposed joke.

"Right you are, Martin!" cried one. "Keep him quiet. We won't go home
till morning."

The major turned to the window. It was a moonlight night, and as I
looked with him I saw the courtyard full of soldiers. Who was in
command? The answer to that meant much to me.

This sight somewhat sobered the major.

"A mutiny!" he cried. "The soldiers have risen!"

"Go to bed," said the junior ensign.

"Look out of window!" he cried.

They all staggered to the window. As the soldiers saw them, they
raised a shout. I could not distinguish whether it was a greeting or a
threat. They took it as the latter, and turned to the door.

"Stop!" I cried; "I shoot the first man who opens the door."

In wonder they turned on me. I stood facing them, revolver in hand.
They waited huddled together for an instant, then made a rush at me;
I fired, but missed. I had a vision of a pois