"Look!" he said, and, following his gaze, I saw approaching twelve
gendarmes. We did not speak; we did not need to invite each other's
views; our minds had but a single thought--Coleopteron could not
possibly escape twenty-four Hungarian Government boots.
On scurried our little friend and on came the gendarmes. I was
conscious of a feeling of physical sickness, and Frederick groaned
aloud. As the dreadful moment of contact approached we shut our eyes
tight and each gripped the other's hand. How long we remained like
this I cannot tell, for we were both afraid to look and see the my
smudge on the pavement indicating a hero's end; but eventually, by
mutual arrangement, we opened our eyes, and then we saw--not a smudge,
but Coleopteron still advancing quite unconcerned. It was a miracle.
"I can't stand it any longer," cried Frederick, to the amazement
of those sitting about us outside the cafe, "I shall go mad!" and,
leaping up from his seat, he rushed across the promenade and, taking
from his pocket a picture-postcard of some Hungarian beauty, he coaxed
Coleopteron to walk on to it, then bore him triumphantly back and
deposited him upon the leaf of a palm which overhung our table.
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