The man with the good hat and the jumping elbow went by very
quickly; yet the man with the bad hat, who thought he was God,
overtook him. He ran after him and jumped over a bed of geraniums
to catch him.

"I beg your Majesty's pardon," he said, with mock humility, "but
here is a quarrel which you ought really to judge."

Then as he led the heavy, silk-hatted man back towards the group,
he caught MacIan's ear in order to whisper: "This poor gentleman
is mad; he thinks he is Edward VII." At this the self-appointed
Creator slightly winked. "Of course you won't trust him much;
come to me for everything. But in my position one has to meet so
many people. One has to be broadminded."

The big banker in the black frock-coat and hat was standing quite
grave and dignified on the lawn, save for his slight twitch of
one limb, and he did not seem by any means unworthy of the part
which the other promptly forced upon him.

"My dear fellow," said the man in the straw hat, "these two
gentlemen are going to fight a duel of the utmost importance.
Your own royal position and my much humbler one surely indicate
us as the proper seconds. Seconds--yes, seconds----" and here
the speaker was once more shaken with his old malady of
laughter.

"Yes, you and I are both seconds--and these two gentlemen can
obviously fight in front of us. You, he-he, are the king. I am
God; really, they could hardly have better supporters. They have