For an instant he seemed too enraged and astonished to move, and the next he exploded with a wonderful German oath and rushed at me, tugging at his sword. At the same moment the men gave a shout and the ring broke. I thought they had cried out in protest when they saw Heinze put his hand on his sword, but as they scattered and fell back I saw that they were looking neither at Heinze nor at me, but at someone behind me. Heinze, too, halted as suddenly as though he had been pulled back by a curbed bit, and, bringing his heels together, stood stiffly at salute. I turned and saw that everyone was falling out of the way of a tall man who came striding toward us, and I knew on the instant that he was General Laguerre. At the first glance I disassociated him from his followers. He was entirely apart. In any surroundings I would have picked him out as a leader of men. Even a civilian would have known he was a soldier, for the signs of his calling were stamped on him as plainly as the sterling mark on silver, and although he was not in uniform his carriage and countenance told you that he was a personage. He was very tall and gaunt, with broad shoulders and a waist as small as a girl’s, and although he must then have been about fifty years of age he stood as stiffly erect as though his spine had grown up into the back of his head. At the first glance he reminded me of Van Dyke’s portrait of Charles I. He had the same high-bred features, the same wistful eyes, and hewore his beard and mustache in what was called the Van Dyke fashion, before Louis Napoleon gave it a new vogue as the “imperial.” It must have been that I read the wistful look in his eyes later, for at the moment of our first meeting it was a very stern Charles I. who confronted us, with the delicate features stiffened in anger, and the eyes set and burning. Since then I have seen both the wistful look and the angry look many times, and even now I would rather face the muzzle of a gun than the eyes of General Laguerre when you have offended him. His first words were addressed to Reeder. “What does this mean, sir?” he demanded. “If you cannot keep order in this camp when my back is turned I shall find an officer who can. Who is this?” he added, pointing at me. I became suddenly conscious of the fact that I was without my hat or coat, and that my sleeves were pulled up to the shoulders. Aiken was just behind me, and as I turned to him for my coat I disclosed his presence to the General. He gave an exclamation of delight. “Mr. Aiken!” he cried, “at last!” He lowered his voice to an eager whisper. “Where are the guns?” he asked. Apparently Aiken felt more confidence in General Laguerre than in his officers, for at this second questioning he answered promptly. “I regret to say, sir,” he began, “that the guns were seized at New Orleans. Someone informed the Honduranian Consul there, and he--” “Seized!” cried Laguerre. “By whom? Do you mean we have lost them?”