ieved of my second task, carefully shielding the bouquet
with the water-jar I worked my way into the lane, and struck the head of
the earthen vessel against a stone coping.

The porous clay cracked like an egg-shell, the top coming off in one
piece, with a few flying splinters; and I pressed the bouquet deep into
the water.

This was the best I could do at the moment, though, if the bomb was made
with picric acid, I had accomplished nothing. I could only hope; and
pressing on I came up with Ropes, who had collared his man and jammed him
against a wall.

Not a sound had the wretch uttered. He knew that, if he resisted, he would
be instantly denounced and torn to pieces by a crowd not likely to wait
for clear proof of such an accusation. Since he had failed, it was better
to trust to the mercy of his captor and of the police than to the
thousands wild with enthusiasm for the King. Fortunately for him, as for
us, the crowd had something better to do than stop to watch what they took
for some trifling private quarrel.

"He tried to knife me," said Ropes; "but I stopped that. Knife's in my
pocket. What next, sir?"

It was characteristic that he did not ask what the man had done.

"Give the brute up to the police," I answered in English. "He was with
another chap whom I've lost, in a plot to throw a bomb at the royal box;
and the bomb's in this water-jar."

For the first time Ropes' face lost its imperturbable expression. "What,
sir!" he exclaimed, "after your troubles--excuse my mentioning them--you
concern yourself in an affair like this!"

"I've no choice. We can't let this beast escape. If they have him, the
police may get his mate. He looks a coward and sneak."

"Beg pardon, sir, you have a choice. I've got the man. Give me the jar
with the bomb, and I'll take the whole thing on my shoulders with the
police, though it's a shame you should lose the credit. I've a clean bill;
chauffeur to Mr. R. Waring, American newspaper correspondent. No need to
bring you into it."

"If you're blown up by the bomb--"

"Would get blown up just the same sticking to you, for I _would_ stick
like a burr, sir. (Now, no good wriggling, you beast, or gabbling about a
mistake. There's no mistake, and you won't get away!) Better tell him
what's in that jar, sir--my Spanish doesn't run as far--and that'll quiet
him."

"You can't manage the man and the jar."

"Could manage two of each. There's a couple of civil guards. Now, if
you'