ling in some unknown tongue; some
human being had dared to interlope upon his peculiar domain; and the
wrathful explorer did only what might have been expected of him: he
began to pour forth a torrent of very violent reproof and objurgation,
to which the sober English tongue can do scant justice.

"Ah! scelerats!" he cried. "What do you mean? De quoi
melez-vous? You are rogues: you are trespassers. Know you not that
I--oui, moi qui vous parle--have alone the right of entry into this
_tell_? Has not the administration of the French Republic arranged it?
Allez-vous-en, allez-vous-en, coquins, scelerats!"

"Mais, monsieur--" began Rodier, stepping out of the car.

The sound of his own language only added fuel to Monsieur de
Montause's wrath. Had some rival appeared on the scene at the very
moment when he saw the crown of his long toil? Had some overeager
competitor obtained a permit, come before his time, and arrived to
enter upon the fruits of his predecessor's labours and rob him of half
his glory? "Mais, monsieur," said Rodier, but the explorer fairly
shrieked him to silence, approached him, smote one fist with the
other, and hurled abuse at him with such incoherent volubility that
Smith, whose French was pretty good, could not make out a word of it,
and held on to the levers in helpless laughter.

"Mais, monsieur, je vous assure--" began Rodier again, when he thought
he saw a chance; but the explorer shouted "Retirez-vous! J'insiste que
vous vous en lliez, tout de suite, tout de suite!" And then he began
over again, abuse, recrimination, expostulation, entreaty, pouring in
full tide from his trembling lips. More than once Rodier tried to stem
the flood, but finding that it only ran the faster, he resigned
himself to listen in silence, and stood looking mournfully at his
ireful fellow-countryman until he at length was forced to stop from
sheer lack of breath.

"Mais, monsieur," Rodier's voice was very conciliatory--"I assure you
that our visit is purely accidental. My friend and myself desire only
too much to quit the scene. But you perceive, monsieur, that our
aeroplane--"

"Ah, bah! aeroplane! What have I to do with aeroplanes? You interrupt
my work, I say: the aeroplane is a thing of the present; I have to do
only with the past; there were no aeroplanes in Babylonia. Once more I
demand that you withdraw, you and your aeroplane, and leave me to
pursue my work in tranquillity."

"Mais, monsieur, il s'agit prec