seen. Here, again, was an
instance of an humble individual becoming a cog in the wheel of world
politics. Within less than a month Schmidt was vituperated by half the
chancelleries of Europe. A newspaper war raged over him. He became
the object of an Emperor's Jovian wrath. "What's the matter with
Schmidt? He's--all--right!" thundered the whole press of the United
States. And all because he had made a good bargain at a critical
moment!

But no one on board the _Unser Fritz_ was vexed by aught save present
tribulations when De Sylva and his _aide_ quitted the ship. Be sure
that not a soul thought of sleep. Every man, and the one woman whom
chance had thrown in their midst, remained on deck and watched the
slumbering town. It was only a small place. The _Andorinha_ lay at
one end of the harbor, the _Unser Fritz_ at the other. They were
barely half a mile apart, and Maceio climbed the sloping shore between
the two points.

Hozier, of course, had forgiven Iris for her aloofness, and Iris, with
that delightful inconsistency which ranks high among the many charms of
her sex, found that "Philip dear," though she might not marry him, was
her only possible companion. He, having acquired an experience
previously lacking, took care to fall in with her mood. She, weary of
a painful self-repression, cheated the frowning gods of "just this one
night." So they looked at the twinkling lights, spoke in whispers lest
they should miss any tokens of disturbance on shore, elbowed each other
comfortably on the rails of the bridge, and uttered no word of love or
future purpose.

They were discussing nothing more important than the sufferings of
Watts--whom Coke would not allow to go out of his sight--when a
lightning blaze leaped from the somber shadows of some buildings on the
quay lower down the river. Again, and many times again, the sudden
jets of flame started out across the black water. Iris, or Hozier, for
that matter, had never seen a field-piece fired by night, but before
the girl could do other than grip Philip's arm in a spasm of fear, the
thunder of the artillery rolled across the harbor, and the worn plates
of the _Unser Fritz_ quivered under the mere concussion.

"By jove, they're at it!" cried Philip.

Iris felt the thrill that shook him. She could not see his face, but
she knew that his blue eyes were shining like bright steel. She was
horrified at the thought of red war being so near, yet she was pro