of these two men Bert's whole universe had changed
again. A curtain fell before the immense and terrible desolation that
had overwhelmed him. He was in a world of three people, a minute human
world that nevertheless filled his brain with eager speculations and
schemes and cunning ideas. What were they thinking of? What did
they think of him? What did they mean to do? A hundred busy threads
interlaced in his mind as he pottered studiously over the Asiatic
aeroplane. New ideas came up like bubbles in soda water.

"Gaw!" he said suddenly. He had just appreciated as a special aspect of
this irrational injustice of fate that these two men were alive and that
Kurt was dead. All the crew of the Hohenzollern were shot or burnt or
smashed or drowned, and these two lurking in the padded forward cabin
had escaped.

"I suppose 'e thinks it's 'is bloomin' Star," he muttered, and found
himself uncontrollably exasperated.

He stood up, facing round to the two men. They were standing side by
side regarding him.

"'It's no good," he said, "starin' at me. You only put me out." And
then seeing they did not understand, he advanced towards them, wrench in
hand. It occurred to him as he did so that the Prince was really a very
big and powerful and serene-looking person. But he said, nevertheless,
pointing through the trees, "dead man!"

The bird-faced man intervened with a reply in German.

"Dead man!" said Bert to him. "There."

He had great difficulty in inducing them to inspect the dead Chinaman,
and at last led them to him. Then they made it evident that they
proposed that he, as a common person below the rank of officer should
have the sole and undivided privilege of disposing of the body by
dragging it to the water's edge. There was some heated gesticulation,
and at last the bird-faced officer abased himself to help. Together they
dragged the limp and now swollen Asiatic through the trees, and after
a rest or so--for he trailed very heavily--dumped him into the westward
rapid. Bert returned to his expert investigation of the flying-machine
at last with aching arms and in a state of gloomy rebellion. "Brasted
cheek!" he said. "One'd think I was one of 'is beastly German slaves!

"Prancing beggar!"

And then he fell speculating what would happen when the flying-machine,
was repaired--if it could be repaired.

The two Germans went away again, and after some reflection Bert removed
several nuts, resumed his jacket and vest, po