r Lieutenant had gotten a
touch of the sun; but the grizzled Schneider, who came from Luthuania,
opined that the Herr Kommandant had left his table knife edge uppermost.

When zu Pfeiffer went across to tiffin the hot sun had dried up the
gutters and the plot of grass. He did not return to the Court House, much
to the gratitude of many innocent and guilty. After drinking more wine
than usual he lay down for the siesta and fell asleep. But at five he
awoke with a mouth like a burnt cooking pot and the temper of the said
devil. He yelled for Bakunjala, who came, so trembling with fright that he
stuttered. Zu Pfeiffer threw a glass which missed him and broke a mirror.

"Another seven years' ill luck!" shouted zu Pfeiffer, sitting on the bed
in his shirt. He glared at Bakunjala standing in the door, too
terror-stricken to flee, convinced that he would be blamed for breaking
the glass. "You--you superstitious nigger!" yelled zu Pfeiffer, and added
more calmly in Kiswahili: "Fetch me a brandy-soda! Upesi, you son of a
baboon!"

"Bwana!" exclaimed Bakunjala and fled gladly.

Zu Pfeiffer sat and scowled at the scattered pieces of mirror until
Bakunjala arrived with the drink. An hour later he emerged in his
immaculate undress uniform and sat on the north verandah, drank vermouth
and smoked cigars, staring out across the flat swamp where the pewter of
the lake was flecked with silver and blood of the sinking sun. From beyond
the fort came the yaps of the drill-sergeant busy in the cool of the
afternoon. At the bark of the relieving guard, zu Pfeiffer rose and walked
around the house to watch, with tetchy eyes, the saluting of the flag.

As he stalked off to dinner in the messroom eyes glimmered in the darkness
about him. Bakunjala, after receiving punishment, was indisposed, in fact
incapable of attending to his duties in the spritely manner required.
Another servant, who had taken his place, was nervous of the probable
consequences, and had a keen eye for the appearance of the devil so
realistically described by Bakunjala. But the demon apparently slept, for
zu Pfeiffer took the dishes placed before him with an unaccustomed
meekness, pushed them away absent-mindedly, and rising, retired to his
study. Even when the deputy brought the wrong bottle he reprimanded him
mildly without taking his eyes off the photograph in the ivory frame.

Yet, with the port, he did not omit to rise, and heels together, raise his
glass to the "I