"Why, Massa Mole, we been good friends dis long time in dat 'ere ole
prison; you isn't a-gwine to turn round on de poor niggahs now we's got
out."

"Get away. Never mind, don't get away; I'm not proud--hurrah!"

In his excitement Mr. Mole threw his battered hat a great height into
the air, but slipping while so doing, he sat down upon the pavement
rather violently.

"_Sac-r-r-r-re!_ seize that old villain!"

The indignant command came from a mounted officer in charge of a
considerable body of soldiers.

While directing the movements of his men, drawn sword in hand, down
came Mole's _chapeau_ on the point of the deadly weapon, which went
through the crown, and the lining getting entangled with the hilt, it
could not be very readily moved.

And, of course, the French spectators at once began laughing to see the
rather absurd situation of the officer.

Mole would certainly have been dragged off again had not the British
consul once more interposed.

"Monsieur le Colonel, I hasten to assure you that it was an accident,"
he said.

"I will not be insulted by accident; arrest him!"

"But consider, sir, you have no crime to urge against him."

"Bah, what care I?"

"He will apologise."

"Of course he will," said Harvey, thinking it time to interpose. "Here,
where are you, Mr. Mole?"

"Down here, sitting on the other end of me," responded the ex-tutor in
very doleful accents.

"An apology!" said the excited officer, who had dismounted, and was
brandishing his weapon as though about to sacrifice Mole.

But poor Mole seemed altogether too confused to say the soothing words
required, so the consul again interfered.

"Really, Monsieur le Colonel, this poor gentleman seems to have
sustained some severe injury. You will see he has lost both legs in a
series of heroic actions, the particulars of which I have not time to
give you, but accept my assurance that the affair of the hat was
entirely an accident."

"Lost legs in action! Ah, then it becomes my duty to apologise for the
hasty language I have used to a brave soldier."

As things were changing a little, Mole thought it time to become
conscious, and with the aid of Tinker and Bogey, he struggled to his
feet.

"Monsieur," continued the officer, "I withdraw my words."

"Enough said, my dear sir," responded Mole; "let the matter drop, I
pray."

The officer gave a military salute, restored the perforated hat to its
owner, and rejoined his men.

"Really i