His neighbor laughed too, then another and then
another, until the whole native multitude was laughing. The laugh
rippled along the shore through the long stretch of natives collected
there like the swells from a passing steamer. It seemed to extend back
from the shore through the whole town, and, tho it was undoubtedly
fancy, Sam thought he heard it spreading, like the rings from a stone
thrown into the water, over the entire land. The foreigners stood
aghast. The Porsslanese are not a laughing people. They had never been
known to laugh before except in the most feeble manner. The events of
the past year had not been especially humorous, and the coming of the
great war-lord was far from being a laughing matter. Yet with the
perversity of heathen they had selected this impressive occasion for
showing their incurable barbarism and bad taste. Sam fairly shuddered.
"It's a sacrilege," he cried. "I believe that nothing short of
extermination will reclaim this unhappy land. They are calling down the
vengeance of heaven upon them."
They walked back to town with the foreign officer.
"He's a wonderful man, the Emperor," said he, in indifferent English.
"How quickly he changed his clothes, and what a compliment it was!"
"A sort of lightning-change artist," said Cleary. "He could make his
fortune at a continuous performance."
In the dark Sam blushed for his friend, but fortunately their companion
did not understand the allusion.
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