"I did not intend to stay for lunch," said Phyllis, "but your overpowering will swept me along with it, Ella. But I hope you will let me say that I don't think you should jest about what is--what some people at any rate think very serious."
"Phyllis is of Philistia," said Ella, "and Philistia was always given to ordeal by champions. She thinks the attack made upon you by two missionaries in their newspaper organ quite disgraceful. It doesn't seem so disgraceful after all."
"I haven't seen the attack," said he. "But I feel it to be very good of Miss Ayrton to think it disgraceful."
"Of course I thought it disgraceful," said Phyllis, "and I came to Ella to talk it all over. The article accuses you of atrocities, and said that a question would shortly be put to the Minister of the Annexation Department in the House of Commons. Now, I know that there is nothing my father enjoys more than snubbing those detestable men who endeavor to get up a reputation for philanthropy, and temperance, and bimetallism, and other virtues, by putting questions on the paper; and he could, I think, ask some counter question in this particular case that would ridicule the original busybody."
"It was very good of you to think so, Miss Ayrton," said he. "I can't say that, personally, I mind all the attacks that all the missionaries who earn precarious salaries in South Seas may make upon me; but I must confess that I have a weakness for seeing busybodies put to shame."
"You may depend upon Mr. Ayrton's satire," said Ella. "It never misses the point in the harness. The barb of the dart is, I believe, Mr. Ayrton's, the feather at the other end is Phyllis'."
"Only once that happened," said Phyllis. "Oh, no! papa manufactures his own darts, from feather to tip."
"But supposing that the charges brought against me are true?" suggested Mr. Courtland.
"Why, then, can't you see there is all the greater need for ingenuity in your defense?" said Ella.
"It is impossible to think of the charges as true," said Phyllis stoutly.
"For example?" said he.
"Well, the article said that you had made slaves of some of the natives of New Guinea, purchasing them by a promise to help a native chief against his enemies."
"There wasn't much harm in that: I did it," said he.
"And then it went on to say that you kept your promise," said Phyllis.
"What! They accused me of keeping my promise?" said he. "Well, I'm afraid I can't deny that charge either."
"Did you really slaughter the natives?" cried Phyllis.
The interest which she felt appeared in her eyes.
"I did my best for the savages who had purchased my services," he replied. "The campaign was not a protracted one. Two days after the outbreak of hostilities brought things to a climax. We fought our decisive battle--the Sedan of King Mubamayo. You see, I had a trustworthy Winchester. I believe that about seventy of the enemy bit the dust."
"Only seventy? That was unworthy of you, Mr. Courtland," cried Ella.
"Nothing short of thousands counts as a civilized battle. Seventy! Oh, I'm afraid you don't do yourself justice."
"Of course a battle is a battle," said Phyllis stoutly. "If you hadn't killed them they would have killed you. You were in the right, I'm sure."
"I'm not so sure of that," said he, shaking his head. "To tell you the truth, the elements of the crisis of Headman Glowabyola were somewhat involved. The original dispute was difficult for a foreigner to understand--it was, in fact, the Schleswig-Holstein question of Kafalonga."
"You settled it, anyway," suggested Ella. "You were the Bismarck of what's-its-name?"
"I doubled the parts of Bismarck and Von Moltke," said he.
"And that's why they worshiped you as their god? I don't wonder at the heathen in his blindness doing that. Any man who was the same as Bismarck and Von Moltke would certainly shoulder a deity out of his way," laughed Ella.
"It so happened, however, that my deification was due neither to my recognition as a diplomatist nor as a military strategist," said the explorer. "No, they wanted something beyond the mere fighting man to worship, and my knowledge of that fact combined with their paeans of victory--to the /obbligato/ of a solid iron-wood drum beaten with the thigh bones of the conquered--to keep me awake at night. But one morning the headman came upon me when I was about to boil my kettle to make myself a cup of tea. I had a small lamp that burned spirits, and he stood by while I filled it up from the bottle that I carried with me. He took it for granted that the spirit was water, and he was greatly impressed when he saw it flare up as I applied a lighted match to it. He asked me if I possessed the power to set water in a blaze, and I assured him that that was something for which I had long been celebrated; adding that when I had had my breakfast I meant to while away an hour or two by setting fire to the ocean itself. He implored of me to reconsider my decision, and when I had poured a little spirit into the hollow of my hand and lighted it in the presence of his most eminent scientists, they said that they also desired to associate themselves with the headman's petition. I was, however, inexorable; I walked down to the beach and had just struck a match on the brink of the ocean when the whole tribe prostrated themselves around me, promising to continue worshiping me if I would only stay my hand.
Well, what could I do? I weakly yielded and spared the multitudinous sea from being the medium of what would in all likelihood have been the greatest conflagration on record. From that moment, I'm happy to say, they worshiped me as their supreme deity, and I'm bound to say that I behaved as such; I was certainly the most superior class of god they had ever had, and they gave me a testimonial to this effect in case I might ever be looking out for a new situation."
"That was how you managed to get such a collection of birds, including my meteor-bird," said Ella. "But Phyllis of Philistia is shocked at the bare recital of such a tale of idolatry. Are you not, Phyllis?"
