Cuddlehead found the gates open to the President's grounds without much trouble, and was halted by the sentry. He produced his card-case. The sentry whistled. The corporal issued from the guard-house, with his tunic open and his belt dangling. Just then Captain Santosa entered from the street, with, in the metaphorical phrase of a certain whist-playing poet, "a smile on his face, and a club in his hand." He swore at the corporal, who retreated to the guard-house, fumbling at his buttons. He bowed to Cuddlehead, and glanced at the card. "You would like to see the President?" he said. "Then I will escort you to the door." He caught up his sword and hooked it short to his belt, wheeled like a drill-sergeant, and fitted his stride to Cuddlehead's. Mr. Tetson received the visitor in his airy office. He seemed disturbed in mind, wondering, perhaps, if this were a dun from some wholesale establishment on the coast. He had been working on his books all the morning, and had caught a glimpse of ruin, like a great shadow, across the tidy pages. But he managed to welcome Cuddlehead heartily enough. "You must stay to dinner, sir,--pot-luck,--very informal, you know," he said, hospitably. He leaned against the desk and passed his hand across his forehead. He could not keep his mind from working back to the sheets of ruled paper. "Ten thousand," he pondered, "ten thousand for April alone, and nothing to put against it. The army wanting its pay, and robbing me of all I have. Gregory's coal bill as long as my leg. Sugar gone to the devil!" He sighed, mopped his face, and looked at Cuddlehead, who all the while had been observing him with furtive, inquiring eyes. He offered a yellow cigar, and lit one himself. "Excuse me a moment," he said. "I have something to see to. Here are some English papers. I'll be back immediately, Mr. Cuddlehead, and then maybe we can have a game of billiards." He went hurriedly from the room. "You are a foolish old party," remarked Cuddlehead to the closed door, "and, no doubt, you'll be all the easier for that. Hope your daughter is a better looker, that's all." He tossed the offensive cigar into the garden, and seated himself in the chair by the desk. His courage was growing. At the hall door Mr. Tetson met Hemming entering. The commander was booted and spurred. "Are you busy?" inquired the President. "There's a visitor in here." The Englishman glared. "Yes, sir, I am busy," he replied. "I've caught my command in seven of their thieving tricks, and have ridden thirty miles to do it. I've told the whole regiment what I think of them, and now I must dine at the mess, to see that they don't concoct any schemes to murder me." "Haven't you time for a game of billiards with Mr. Cuddlehead?" asked Mr. Tetson. "No, sir, I have not," replied Hemming, crisply, and tramped away to change his clothes. "The old ass," he muttered, under his breath.