Thus the pæans of the soldiers. The words were echoed by the crowd, and a surging roar went up from the talking machines: "Hail to his majesty, King Gaddbai!" On the heels of the tumult the kaka draperies parted at the rear of the royal balcony and the king appeared, bowed and seated himself. He had a reserved seat for the performance and could see everything that took place. "Let the executioner-general stand forth, prepare himself for his work and then proceed—all in the royal presence!" Instantly the master of ceremonies put in an appearance. He wore a white kirtle, carried himself with a lordly air, and was followed by a retinue of attendants. Two of the attendants bore the official zetbais; another carried the official word-box; four more were dragging a cart on spherical wheels—an open cart laden with an object that startled us. "Great heavens, Mr. Munn!" gasped the professor. "Unless my eyes deceive me, the executioner-general is having my tub of anti-gravity compound hauled after him!" "Your eyes do not deceive you, sir," I made answer. "But what in the world are they going to do with it?" "We shall be able to tell in a few moments. Look! The executioner takes his word-box and kneels; he is about to address the king." "Your majesty," said the executioner-general through his talking machine, "your slave craves your indulgence in the matter of preparing for this happy dispatch. The supply of the official pigment is quite exhausted, and it has been found necessary to fall back upon the white paint that was found in the dwelling recently fallen from the top of the crater." "Will it answer the purpose?" demanded the king. "It is white, your majesty, and of proper consistency. So far as I can see, it will answer the purpose well." "Then proceed with your preparations. I would have this matter over with as quick as possible." Of course Quinn and I understood all this. I knew that the professor was meditating a final appeal to the king, and he shot a strange look at me as his trembling hands lifted his word-box. "Before the executioner-general proceeds, your majesty," remarked the professor, his fingers none too steady, "will you allow me a word?" His majesty gave an exclamation of surprise. "Where have you learned our language?" he inquired. "In Baigol, your majesty. We come from that country on a visit to you, under the protection of the royal banner of Golbai." The professor nodded to me and I shook out the banner and held it aloft. "My royal friend," said Gaddbai, "should have been more particular in choosing the subjects he sends to visit my realm. The sleeping colossus, in the ring with you raided my storehouse, and you sought to save him from capture. For that lawless act death has been decreed to all three of you, and the sentence must be carried out." "But we were ignorant of the law," pleaded the professor. "Ignorance of the law is no excuse." "The gentleman in the red kirtle is a friend of ours——"