“Excuse us, Your Majesty, but this ain’t no time for arguments about the British constitution. Cap’n Mike and me agreed to take you and your ship to Trinadaro. It was a contract, and we propose to earn our wages. If you won’t come easy and willin’, then we’ll just have to call a couple of our men from the boat that’s waiting alongside and escort you, anyhow. We aim to live up to our agreements.” O’Shea wasted no more words. Suddenly grasping one of the court officers by the back of the neck and the slack of his garments, he propelled him rapidly toward the deck, fiercely admonishing him to make no outcry unless he wished to be tossed overboard. The other man had started to flee, but Johnny Kent caught him in a few heavy strides, tucked him under one mighty arm, clapped a hand over his mouth, and waddled with his burden to the nearest cargo port. “Drop them into the boat,” commanded O’Shea. “Ahoy, there, below! Catch these two lads, and let them make no noise.” The astonished King Osmond had followed the abductors out of the cabin. Before he could renew the discussion Captain O’Shea, breathing hard, but calm and smiling, faced him with the courteous invitation: “After you, Your Majesty. We are at your service. A few minutes in the boat and you will be aboard the _Tarlington_ and heading for the open sea.” It was obviously so futile to protest that the king meekly descended to the boat, steadied by the helping hand of Johnny Kent. The seamen shoved off and O’Shea steered for the long black hull of the steamer visible a few hundred yards down-stream. Unable to voice his confused emotions, the king suffered himself to be conducted up the gangway of the _Tarlington_. His loyal subjects, the real ones, cheered frantically at sight of him. It was an ovation worthy of his station. He bowed and smiled and was himself again. Already the recollection of his detention as a madman seemed less distressing. He felt the ship tremble under his feet as her engines began to drive her toward the blessed sea and the long road to wave-washed Trinadaro. Had it not been for the bold and ready conduct of his two faithful mariners, he would now be a broken-spirited old man in London, a butt of public ridicule. He went below to the state-rooms which had been suitably fitted for his comfort and privacy, and discovered that he was greatly wearied. Before retiring he sent one of his secretaries to request Captain O’Shea and Johnny Kent to give him the pleasure of their company at breakfast next morning. “That makes me feel a bit more cheerful,” said O’Shea to himself. “Maybe he has decided to forgive us. We were guilty of high treason, disobedience, and a few other things, in packing him off to sea while he was trying to tell us he couldn’t go at all.” The _Tarlington_ was in blue water next morning when the captain and the chief engineer bashfully entered the private dining-room of His Majesty. The latter greeted them with marked affability, and said: