ed, leaped, and caught the fly in his hand.

"Ow!" he exclaimed as the hornet stung him.

"Ach, you woman of shame, catch it instantly!"

Without hesitation Bakunjala made another grab, and clutching the fly
tightly, made to open the screen door.

"Halt!" commanded the lieutenant.

Bakunjala obeyed.

Zu Pfeiffer regarded the man standing with the wasp sting buried in his
palm with a slight smile of amusement.

"It hurts?" he inquired amiably.

"Indio, Bwana!" asserted Bakunjala.

"Good! Now stop there."

Motionless remained the negro. Zu Pfeiffer leisurely selected a fresh
cigar, lighted it, stoked it, and inhaling smoke stroked his left
moustache.

"It still hurts?"

"Indio, Bwana!" said Bakunjala with a high note in his voice.

"Splendid!" assured the lieutenant: and after a full minute added: "Now
you may go. And remember if you are frightened of a fly's pain again I
will give you twenty lashes."

"Indio, Bwana," answered Bakunjala humbly and departed swiftly with the
hornet in his clenched fist. Zu Pfeiffer smiled, again stared reflectively
at the violet shadows creeping lazily across the square, sipped some
brandy and picking up his book, began to read.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}

"Excellence!"

Zu Pfeiffer frowned and looked round. Outside the screen stood Sergeant
Schultz at the salute. Zu Pfeiffer nodded.

"Well?"

"Excellence," said the sergeant at attention, "the Englishman is here."

"Ach, tell him to go----" The lieutenant drew out his gold chronometer. "It
is my bath time. I cannot see him."

"Ja, Excellence."

"Wait." Zu Pfeiffer withdrew his legs and rose. "Ach, tell the fool to
come over here and wait till I have had my bath."

"Excellence!" agreed the sergeant and saluting, marched away. Zu Pfeiffer
entered the bungalow. Across the square came Birnier with the sergeant who
ushered him into the screened portion of the verandah.

"His Excellence gom bresently," said the sergeant and left him.

Birnier put his Tirai hat on the table, and seeing no other, sat in the
Bombay chair; looked about him; idly examined the brand on the box of
cigars and smiled. "Makes himself mighty comfortable," he remarked to
himself. "Pity he appears such a boor." He glanced at the book on the
armchair. _Allgemeine Geschichte der Philosophie_ von Prof. Dr. Paul
Deussen. "And a philosopher, eh!" Having little German he turned away and
lighted his pipe. After a while he began to fidget, wondering how lon