and he wants you to recite it in English. Do you know it?"

The actor smiled haughtily.

"I _wrote_ it!" he protested. "Richelieu's my middle name. I've done it
in stock."

"Then do it now!" commanded Billy. "Give it to him hot. I'm Julie de
Mortemar. He's the villain Barabas. Begin where Barabas hands you the
cue, 'The country is the king! '"

In embarrassment St. Clair coughed tentatively.

"Whoever heard of Cardinal Richelieu," he protested, "in a navy
uniform?"

"Begin!" begged Billy.

"What'll I do with my cap?" whispered St. Clair.

In an ecstasy of alarm Billy danced from foot to foot.

"I'll hold your cap," he cried. "Go on!"

St. Clair gave his cap of gold braid to Billy and shifted his
"full-dress" sword-belt. Not without concern did President Ham observe
these preparations. For the fraction of a second, in alarm, his eyes
glanced to the exits. He found that the officers of his staff completely
filled them. Their presence gave him confidence and his eyes returned to
Lieutenant Hardy.

That gentleman heaved a deep sigh. Dejectedly, his head fell forward
until his chin rested upon his chest. Much to the relief of the
president, it appeared evident that Lieutenant Hardy was about to accede
to his command and apologize.

St. Clair groaned heavily.

"Ay, is it so?" he muttered. His voice was deep, resonant, vibrating
like a bell. His eyes no longer suggested apology. They were strange,
flashing; the eyes of a religious fanatic; and balefully they were fixed
upon President Ham.

"Then wakes the power," the deep voice rumbled, "that in the age of iron
burst forth to curb the great and raise the low." He flung out his left
arm and pointed it at Billy.

"Mark where she stands!" he commanded.

With a sweeping, protecting gesture he drew a round Billy an imaginary
circle. The pantomime was only too clear. To the aged negro, who feared
neither God nor man, but only voodoo, there was in the voice and gesture
that which caused his blood to chill.

"Around her form," shrieked St. Clair, "I draw the awful circle of our
solemn church! Set but one foot within that holy ground and on thy
head--" Like a semaphore the left arm dropped, and the right arm, with
the forefinger pointed, shot out at President Ham. "Yea, though it wore
a CROWN--I launch the CURSE OF ROME!"

No one moved. No one spoke. What terrible threat had hit him President
Ham could not guess. He did not ask. Stiffly, like a man in a trance,