d there be? Why
shouldn't you talk to me?'

'Some gents are so stuck-up, don't you know.'

'Well, I am not very much stuck-up,' Ericson said, much amused; 'but I
am not quite certain whether I exactly know what stuck-up means.'

'Why, where do you come from?' the stranger asked in amazement.

'I have been out of England for many years. I have come from South
America.'

'No--you don't mean that! Why, that beats all! Look here--I have a
brother in South America.

'South America is a large place. Where is your brother?'

'Well, I've got a letter from him here. I wonder if you could tell me
the name of the place. I can't make it out myself.'

'I dare say I can,' said Ericson carelessly. 'Come under this gas-lamp
and let me see your letter.' The man fumbled in his pocket and drew out
a folded letter. He had something else in his hand, as the keen eyes of
the watching Mrs. Sarrasin could very well see.

'Another second,' she whispered to her husband.

The Dictator took the letter good-naturedly, and began to open it under
the light of the lamp which hung over the bridge. The stranger was
standing just behind him. The place was otherwise deserted.

'Now,' Mrs. Sarrasin whispered.

Then Captain Sarrasin strode forward and seized the stranger by the
shoulder with one hand, and by his right arm with another.

'What are you a-doin' of?' the stranger asked angrily.

'Well, I want to know who you are in the first place. I beg your
Excellency's pardon for intruding on you, but my wife and I happened to
be here, and we just came up as this person was talking to you, and we
want to know who he is.'

'Captain Sarrasin! Mrs. Sarrasin! Where have you turned up from? Tell
me--have you really been benignly shadowing me all this way?' Ericson
asked with a smile. 'There isn't the slightest danger, I can assure you.
This man merely asked me a civil question.'

The civil man, meanwhile, was wrestling and wriggling under Sarrasin's
grip. He was wrestling and wriggling all in vain.

'You let me go,' the man exclaimed, in a tone of righteous indignation.
'You hain't nothin' to do with me.'

'I must first see what you have got there in your hand,' Sarrasin said.
'See--there it is! Look here, your Excellency--look at that knife!'

Sarrasin took from the man's hand a short, one-bladed,
delicately-shaped, and terrible knife. It might be trusted to pierce its
way at a single touch, not to say stroke, into the heart of any victim.