No help or comfort was to be obtained from the company around him. These spurious voyagers from the employment agency were whispering uneasily among themselves and regarding the unfortunate Osmond with suspicious glances. They had not bargained to entangle themselves in the affairs of an alleged lunatic on board of a ship which had been seized in the name of the law. Ten shillings was not enough for this sort of thing. “It don’t look right to me,” said one of them. “The job is on the queer. I say we hook it before the bloomin’ bobbies come and put the lot of us in jail.” This sentiment expressed the general view of the situation, and the counterfeit subjects of Trinadaro began to flock down the gangway and scatter in a hunted manner among the gloomy warehouses. Presently Colonel Sydenham-Leach was left alone with the two court officers. Recovering somewhat of his composure and dignity, he declared that he must consult with his legal advisers before consenting to leave the ship. He clung to the hope that delay might enable Captain O’Shea to come to his rescue, although he was unwilling to try to send a message to the _Tarlington_. This might reveal to the officers of the law that the wrong ship had been detained, and put them on the track of the right one. There was no legal reason why the luckless king should not remain in the _Tyneshire Glen_ until his lawyers could come and confer with him, wherefore the captors grumblingly sat themselves down in the cabin to wait. The king had nothing to say to them. He was absorbed in his own unhappy reflections. His dreams had turned to ashes. His island empire would know him not. He felt very old and helpless, and sad. Thus he sat and brooded for some time. At length he heard the sound of men tramping across the deck above his head. He roused himself to look in the direction of the door-way. A moment later it framed the well-knit, active figure of Captain Michael O’Shea. Behind him puffed stout Johnny Kent. “’Twas a good guess, Your Majesty,” cried O’Shea. “We thought you might have gone adrift and fetched up aboard this old steamer. Who are your two friends?” “Officers from the bench of one of the judges in lunacy,” reluctantly admitted King Osmond. “They have served distraining papers on me and on my ship.” “On this ship?” exclaimed Johnny Kent. “How ridiculous! What’ll we do with this pair of bailiffs, or whatever you call ’em, Cap’n Mike? Make ’em eat their documents?” “No; we will take the two meddlers along with us,” sweetly answered O’Shea. “We can’t afford to leave them behind to tell how it happened.” “But they have all the power and authority of the British government behind them,” spoke up King Osmond. “And they have a long voyage ahead of them,” said O’Shea. “Your Majesty can give them jobs in your own judicial department and they will grow up with the country.” “I cannot countenance such actions,” began the king, but Johnny Kent interrupted to remark with much vehemence: