"Wake Mr. Stedman, will you?" said he, "and we will go and take a look at her." "You can see nothing but the lights," said Bradley, as he left the room; "it's a black night, sir." Stedman was not new from the sight of men and ships of war, and came in half dressed and eager. "Do you suppose it's the big canoe Messenwah spoke of?" he said. "I thought of that," said Gordon. The three men fumbled their way down the road to the plaza, and saw, as soon as they turned into it, the great outlines and the brilliant lights of an immense vessel, still more immense in the darkness, and glowing like a strange monster of the sea, with just a suggestion here and there, where the lights spread, of her cabins and bridges. As they stood on the shore, shivering in the cool night-wind, they heard the bells strike over the water. "It's two o'clock," said Bradley, counting. "Well, we can do nothing, and they cannot mean to do much to-night," Albert said. "We had better get some more sleep, and, Bradley, you keep watch and tell us as soon as day breaks." "Aye, aye, sir," said the sailor. "If that's the man-of-war that made the treaty with Messenwah, and Messenwah turns up to-morrow, it looks as if our day would be pretty well filled up," said Albert, as they felt their way back to the darkness. "What do you intend to do?" asked his secretary, with a voice of some concern. "I don't know," Albert answered gravely, from the blackness of the night. "It looks as if we were getting ahead just a little too fast, doesn't it? Well," he added, as they reached the house, "let's try to keep in step with the procession, even if we can't be drum-majors and walk in front of it." And with this cheering tone of confidence in their ears, the two diplomats went soundly asleep again. The light of the rising sun filled the room, and the parrots were chattering outside, when Bradley woke him again. "They are sending a boat ashore, sir," he said, excitedly, and filled with the importance of the occasion. "She's a German man-of-war, and one of the new model. A beautiful boat, sir; for her lines were laid in Glasgow, and I can tell that, no matter what flag she flies. You had best be moving to meet them: the village isn't awake yet."