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and we can find no enemy. All their armed men are killed or have fled, and the rest of the population run away from us as soon as we appear.”

“Count,” said the Emperor sternly, “do you remember your oath to our person? Do you know your duties as a field-marshal?”

“I think so, Your Majesty.”

“Is it not your duty to provide every requisite for war at my command?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Then I depend upon you to provide an enemy. What military requisite is more important? Remember the fate of Fismark, and do your duty. We must have a war. That is what I have come here for, and I do not propose to be disappointed. We must have a punitive expedition at once. What are my engagements for tomorrow?”

“Your Majesty’s mustache artist is coming at 5:30,” replied the count, looking at a memorandum. “Breakfast at 6⁠—inspection of infantry at 6:30⁠—naval maneuvres at 8⁠—reception of our officers at 10:30⁠—reception of foreign officers at 11:30⁠—reception of civilians at 12⁠—luncheon at 12:30⁠—photographer from 1 to 3. We have made no appointments after 3, Your Majesty.”

“Then put down the punitive expedition for 3:15,” said the warlord, twisting his mustache in front of his eyes. “I propose to have this whole nation kowtow before me in unison before I leave their miserable land. Take the necessary measures at once for the ceremony. Now I am going to call out the whole garrison and see if they are kept in readiness. You may go, and send me an aide-de-camp. You understand that you must find me an enemy on whom I can wreak vengeance for all these wrongs.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” said the count, bending low before him. “I accept this Gospel of Your Majesty’s most blessed Person,” and he took his leave.

The expedition did not start promptly at 3:15, for unexpected complications arose. The other powers wanted to send out punitive expeditions too, and they sought to have it established that the Porsslanese laugh was directed against all the fleets as well as against the Emperor. A judicious distribution of decorations persuaded all the armies to drop this pretension except the Anglian, and it was finally arranged that the Tutonian and Anglian armies should cooperate and take the field together under the Emperor’s immediate command. A week had elapsed before this force was prepared, but it finally started out, General Fawlorn commanding the Anglian contingent.

Sam, who was still only convalescent and who had been assigned some duties connected with forwarding despatches which left him a great deal of leisure, looked with envious eyes upon the departing host. He had never seen anything like the magnificence of the uniforms of the Emperor’s staff. He envied them their gilt and stars, and he envied them the prospect of winning the great battles which Balderdash had promised them. They marched at once upon a fortified town in which a large force of Fencers were reported to be established. They besieged it for six days according to all the rules of the Tutonian manual, and finally entered it with great precautions, and found it absolutely empty. At one village a regiment of Anglian Asiatics cut to pieces a hundred natives who were alleged to be Fencers, but it transpired afterward that none of them were armed. Balderdash was frightened half to death, expecting his imperial master to protest against the lack of opposition, but, strange to say, he took it very well and delivered orations on all occasions extolling the prowess of his troops in putting to flight the hordes of a vast empire. This campaign lasted a month, and the expedition finally returned to the port and was received with all the marks of glory that Tutonian officialism could command. The Emperor at once cabled to several kings and all his relations that Providence had graciously preserved him in the midst of great dangers and brought his enterprise to a successful termination.

“They may be great soldiers,” said Cleary one day to Sam, “but they don’t understand the newspaper business. The Emperor has a natural talent for advertising, but it hasn’t been properly cultivated. They oughtn’t to have let it leak out that there wasn’t even a battle. Why, Taffy says he could go from one end of the Empire to the other with a squadron of cavalry! As for me, I shouldn’t mind trying it without the cavalry. When they did kill any people, it was like killing pheasants at one of his famous battues. I wonder he wasn’t photographed in the middle of a pile of them, the way he is when he goes shooting at home. Perhaps he’ll get up some sport here in a big hen-coop. I’ll suggest it to Balderdash.”

Sam refused to think ill of the great warlord, and embraced every opportunity to see him. He had been formally presented to him at a reception of officers, but there was a crowd present, and Sam did not expect him to recognize him again. On one occasion Sam happened to be standing in the street when the Emperor, accompanied by some of his officers, came past on foot. Sam stood on one side and saluted. To his surprise the Emperor stopped and beckoned to him. Sam came forward, bowing, blushing, and stammering.

“I am glad to see an officer of your country here, General,” said His Majesty. “May I ask your name? Ah, Jinks! I have heard your name before. What do you think of expansion, General?”

“I beg Your Majesty’s pardon,” said Sam, “but I do not think. I obey orders.”

The Emperor gave an exclamation of surprise and delight.

“Hear that, gentlemen,” said he in his own language, turning to his officers. “He does not think; he obeys orders! There is a model for you. There is a motto for you to learn. God has given you an Emperor to think for you. Our friend here, with only a President to fall back on, has perceived the truth that a soldier must not think. He thinks at his peril.

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