d to the neutrality. Such was the impression here on
the spot; such in plain terms the statement of Count Hatzfeldt to Lord
Salisbury at home: that the neutrality of Apia was only "to prevent the
natives from fighting," not the Germans; and that whatever Becker might
have promised at the conference, he could not "restrict German
war-vessels in their freedom of action."

There was nothing to surprise in this discovery; and had events been
guided at the same time with a steady and discreet hand, it might have
passed with less observation. But the policy of Becker was felt to be
not only reckless, it was felt to be absurd also. Sudden nocturnal
onfalls upon native boats could lead, it was felt, to no good end
whether of peace or war; they could but exasperate; they might prove, in
a moment, and when least expected, ruinous. To those who knew how nearly
it had come to fighting, and who considered the probable result, the
future looked ominous. And fear was mingled with annoyance in the minds
of the Anglo-Saxon colony. On the 24th, a public meeting appealed to the
British and American consuls. At half-past seven in the evening guards
were landed at the consulates. On the morrow they were each fortified
with sand-bags; and the subjects informed by proclamation that these
asylums stood open to them on any alarm, and at any hour of the day or
night. The social bond in Apia was dissolved. The consuls, like barons
of old, dwelt each in his armed citadel. The rank and file of the white
nationalities dared each other, and sometimes fell to on the street like
rival clansmen. And the little town, not by any fault of the
inhabitants, rather by the act of Becker, had fallen back in
civilisation about a thousand years.

There falls one more incident to be narrated, and then I can close with
this ungracious chapter. I have mentioned the name of the new English
consul. It is already familiar to English readers; for the gentleman who
was fated to undergo some strange experiences in Apia was the same de
Coetlogon who covered Hicks's flank at the time of the disaster in the
desert, and bade farewell to Gordon in Khartoum before the investment.
The colonel was abrupt and testy; Mrs. de Coetlogon was too exclusive
for society like that of Apia; but whatever their superficial
disabilities, it is strange they should have left, in such an odour of
unpopularity, a place where they set so shining an example of the
sterling virtues. The colonel was