"Jackanapes! Blasphemer! Shameless renegade!" cried the President, choking with wrath. And being already on his legs, he dashed to the bell and tugged at it madly, blanching the Chancellor's face with the perception of a lost opportunity. [Illustration: "HE DASHED TO THE BELL."] "I shall not leave this chamber till I choose," said Manasseh, dropping stolidly into the nearest chair and folding his arms. At once a cry of horror and consternation rose from every throat, every man leapt threateningly to his feet, and Manasseh realised that he was throned on the alcoved arm-chair! But he neither blenched nor budged. "Nay, keep your seats, gentlemen," he said quietly. The President, turning at the stir, caught sight of the _Schnorrer_, staggered and clutched at the mantel. The Councillors stood spellbound for an instant, while the Chancellor's eyes roved wildly round the walls, as if expecting the gold names to start from their panels. The beadle rushed in, terrified by the strenuous tintinnabulation, looked instinctively towards the throne for orders, then underwent petrifaction on the threshold, and stared speechless at Manasseh, what time the President, gasping like a landed cod, vainly strove to utter the order for the beggar's expulsion. "Don't stare at me, Gomez," Manasseh cried imperiously. "Can't you see the President wants a glass of water?" The beadle darted a glance at the President, and, perceiving his condition, rushed out again to get the water. This was the last straw. To see his authority usurped as well as his seat maddened the poor President. For some seconds he strove to mouth an oath, embracing his supine Councillors as well as this beggar on horseback, but he produced only an inarticulate raucous cry, and reeled sideways. Manasseh sprang from his chair and caught the falling form in his arms. For one terrible moment he stood supporting it in a tense silence, broken only by the incoherent murmurs of the unconscious lips; then crying angrily, "Bestir yourselves, gentlemen, don't you see the President is ill?" he dragged his burden towards the table, and, aided by the panic-stricken Councillors, laid it flat thereupon, and threw open the ruffled shirt. He swept the Minute Book to the floor with an almost malicious movement, to make room for the President. The beadle returned with the glass of water, which he well-nigh dropped. "Run for a physician," Manasseh commanded, and throwing away the water carelessly, in the Chancellor's direction, he asked if anyone had any brandy. There was no response. "Come, come, Mr. Chancellor," he said, "bring out your phial." And the abashed functionary obeyed. "Has any of you his equipage without?" Manasseh demanded next of the Mahamad. They had not, so Manasseh despatched the Chief of the Elders in quest of a sedan chair. Then there was nothing left but to await the physician.