he
turned to the rusty iron safe behind his chair and spun the handle. When
again he faced them he held a long envelope which he presented to Hilly.

"There are the ten thousand francs," he said. "Ask him if he is
satisfied, and demand that he go at once!"

Billy turned to St. Clair.

"He says," translated Billy, "he's very much obliged and hopes we will
come again. Now," commanded Billy, "bow low and go out facing him. We
don't want him to shoot us in the back!"

Bowing to the president, the actor threw at Billy a glance full of
indignation.

"Was I as bad as _that_?" he demanded.

On schedule time Billy drove up to the Hotel Ducrot and relinquished St.
Clair to the ensign in charge of the launch from the _Louisiana_. At
sight of St. Clair in the regalia of a superior officer, that young
gentleman showed his surprise.

"I've been giving a 'command' performance for the president," explained
the actor modestly. "I recited for him, and, though I spoke in English,
I think I made quite a hit."

"You certainly," Billy assured him gratefully, "made a terrible hit with
me."

As the moving-picture actors, escorted by the ensign, followed their
trunks to the launch, Billy looked after them with a feeling of great
loneliness. He was aware that from the palace his carriage had been
followed; that drawn in a cordon around the hotel negro policemen
covertly observed him. That President Ham still hoped to recover his
lost prestige and his lost money was only too evident.

It was just five minutes to eight.

Billy ran to his room, and with his suitcase in his hand slipped down
the back stairs and into the garden. Cautiously he made his way to the
gate in the wall, and in the street outside found Claire awaiting him.

With a cry of relief she clasped his arm.

"You are safe!" she cried. "I was so frightened for you. That President
Ham, he is a beast, an ogre!" Her voice sank to a whisper. "And for
myself also I have been frightened. The police, they are at each corner.
They watch the hotel. They watch _me_! Why? What do they want?"

"They want something of mine," said Billy. "But I can't tell you what it
is until I'm sure it _is_ mine. Is the boat at the wharf?"

"All is arranged," Claire assured him. "The boatmen are our friends;
they will take us safely to the steamer."

With a sigh of relief Billy lifted her valise and his own, but he did
not move forward.

Anxiously Claire pulled at his sleeve.

"Come!" she