Mr. Sabin, entering his breakfast-room as usual at ten o'clock on the following morning, found, besides the usual pile of newspapers and letters, a telegram, which had arrived too late for delivery on the previous evening. He opened it in leisurely fashion whilst he sipped his coffee. It was handed in at the Charing Cross Post Office, and was signed simply "K.":-- "Just returned. When can you call and conclude arrangements? Am anxious to see you. Read to-night's paper.--K." The telegram slipped from Mr. Sabin's fingers. He tore open the _St. James's Gazette_, and a little exclamation escaped from his lips as he saw the thick black type which headed the principal columns:-- "EXTRAORDINARY TELEGRAM OF THE GERMAN EMPEROR TO MOENIG! GERMAN SYMPATHY WITH THE REBELS! WARSHIPS ORDERED TO DELAMERE BAY! GREAT EXCITEMENT ON THE STOCK EXCHANGE!" Mr. Sabin's breakfast remained untasted. He read every word in the four columns, and then turned to the other newspapers. They were all ablaze with the news. England's most renowned ally had turned suddenly against her. Without the slightest warning the fire-brand of war had been kindled, and waved threateningly in our very faces. The occasion was hopelessly insignificant. A handful of English adventurers, engaged in a somewhat rash but plucky expedition in a distant part of the world, had met with a sharp reverse. In itself the affair was nothing; yet it bade fair to become a matter of international history. Ill-advised though they may have been, the Englishmen carried with them a charter granted by the British Government. There was no secret about it--the fact was perfectly understood in every Cabinet of Europe. Yet the German Emperor had himself written a telegram congratulating the State which had repelled the threatened attack. It was scarcely an invasion--it was little more than a demonstration on the part of an ill-treated section of the population! The fact that German interests were in no way concerned--that any outside interference was simply a piece of gratuitous impertinence--only intensified the significance of the incident. A deliberate insult had been offered to England; and the man who sat there with the paper clenched in his hand, whilst his keen eyes devoured the long columns of wonder and indignation, knew that his had been the hand which had hastened the long-pent-up storm. He drew a little breath when he had finished, and turned to his breakfast. "Is Miss Sabin up yet?" he asked the servant, who waited upon him. The man was not certain, but withdrew to inquire. He reappeared almost directly. Miss Sabin had been up for more than an hour. She had just returned from a walk, and had ordered breakfast to be served in her room. "Tell her," Mr. Sabin directed, "that I should be exceedingly obliged if she would take her coffee with me. I have some interesting news."