face the captain of the port, the chief of the police of the city, and
their bedizened suites.

Surrounded by plumes and swords and gold lace, I maintained my innocence
and heard Jack Herriott, on his opportune arrival, pour forth in weird,
but fluent, Italian an account of me that must have surrounded me in the
eyes of all present with a golden halo, and that firmly established
me in their minds as the probable next President of the United
States. Thanks to these exaggerations and to various confirmatory
cablegrams--Dunny had plainly set the wires humming on receiving my
S.O.S.,--I found myself a free man, at price of putting my signature
to a statement of it all. I shook the hand of the ever non-committal
Captain Cecchi, and left the ship. And an hour after good old Jack was
gazing at me in wrath unconcealed as I informed him that I was in the
mood for neither gadding, nor social intercourse, and had made up my
mind to proceed immediately to duty at the Front.

"You've been seasick; that's what ails you," he said, diagnosing my
condition. "Oh, I don't expect you to admit it--no man ever did that.
But you wait and see how you feel when we've had a few meals at the
Grand Hotel in Rome!"

This culinary bait leaving me cold, he lost his temper, expressed a hope
that the Germans would blow my ambulance to smithereens, and assured me
that the next time I brought the Huns' papers across the ocean I might
extricate myself without his assistance from what might ensue. However,
though he has a bark, Jack possesses no bite worth mentioning. He even
saw me off when I left by the north-bound train.

Leaning moodily forward, I looked again from the window and wished I