eted the conclusion of the brilliant speech.

Arthur Stoss now seated himself on one of the seats, and Bulke, the hero
and life saver in red livery, laid a violin on another and proceeded to
draw off his master's shoes. Stoss's feet were clad in black stockings
leaving his toes bare. With the toes of his right foot, he took the bow
and with his left foot, deftly rosined it; a spectacle that sent a
whisper of astonishment rippling through the audience. The orchestra
struck up Bach's "Prelude," to which Stoss played Gounod's "Ave Maria."
The tones he produced were beautiful, and the vast crowd was enraptured.
Remembering the awful disaster, they were transported into a sentimental,
religious mood. Frederick shuddered with disgust. The sinking of the
_Roland_ was being exploited.

It was a relief when Stoss finally took up the pea-rifle. Bulke in the
part he now played aroused as much admiration in Frederick and the
artists as Stoss, if not more. While his master shot off the rifle, he
stood at a distance of fifteen feet, with total unconcern holding up
cards for Stoss to aim at. Stoss put a hole through the middle of the
card every time.

V

When he awoke rather late the next morning, Frederick was astonished to
find everything about him standing still. The bed was not pitching, the
glasses and water basin were not rattling, the floor was not sloping
downward, nor were the walls tumbling on his head. The grey light of
a cloudy winter day coming through the window by no means made an
unpleasant or cheerless impression.

He rang, and Petronilla appeared. The young lady, she said, had awakened,
looking well and rosy, and had already breakfasted. She handed him a note
from Willy Snyders, saying exactly where he could be found at different
times during the forenoon and that he would be back for lunch at quarter
past twelve.

Frederick took the second bath he had had within twelve or fourteen
hours. They had laid out fresh underwear and several perfectly new suits
of Bonifacius Ritter's for him to choose from; and he sat down to
breakfast a "newborn" man. Petronilla herself brought in breakfast. While
serving, she told him everybody, even all the servants, had gone out. She
left the room, and returned a few moments later to ask if there was
anything else he wished.

"Nothing, thank you."

She then requested permission to go out for about an hour and a half to
purchase various trifles for the signorina. Soon af