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One

of

a

Barbary

state

,

and

one

of

the

Makarooroos

,

a

tribe

on

the

west

coast

of

Africa

.

I

have

not

those

,

but

they

can

be

procured

.

But

this

flag

,

señor

--

do

you

know

what

it

is

?

Name

of

God

!

do

you

know

?

See

that

red

cross

upon

the

blue

and

white

ground

!

You

never

saw

it

before

?

Seguramente

no

.

It

is

the

naval

flag

of

your

country

.

Mire

!

This

rotten

tub

we

stand

upon

is

its

navy

--

that

dead

cockatoo

lying

there

was

its

commander

--

that

stroke

of

cutlass

and

single

pistol

shot

a

sea

battle

.

All

a

piece

of

absurd

foolery

,

I

grant

you

--

but

authentic

.

There

has

never

been

another

flag

like

this

,

and

there

never

will

be

another

.

No

.

It

is

unique

in

the

whole

world

.

Yes

.

Think

of

what

that

means

to

a

collector

of

flags

!

Do

you

know

,

Coronel

mio

,

how

many

golden

crowns

Herr

Grunitz

would

give

for

this

flag

?

Ten

thousand

,

likely

.

Well

,

a

hundred

thousand

would

not

buy

it

.

Beautiful

flag

!

Only

flag

!

Little

devil

of

a

most

heaven-born

flag

!

O-hé

!

old

grumbler

beyond

the

ocean

.

Wait

till

Don

Sabas

comes

again

to

the

Königin

Strasse

.

He

will

let

you

kneel

and

touch

the

folds

of

it

with

one

finger

.

O-hé

!

old

spectacled

ransacker

of

the

world

!

"

Forgotten

was

the

impotent

revolution

,

the

danger

,

the

loss

,

the

gall

of

defeat

.

Possessed

solely

by

the

inordinate

and

unparalleled

passion

of

the

collector

,

he

strode

up

and

down

the

little

deck

,

clasping

to

his

breast

with

one

hand

the

paragon

of

a

flag

.

He

snapped

his

fingers

triumphantly

toward

the

east

.

He

shouted

the

paean

to

his

prize

in

trumpet

tones

,

as

though

he

would

make

old

Grunitz

hear

in

his

musty

den

beyond

the

sea

.

They

were

waiting

,

on

the

Salvador

,

to

welcome

them

.

The

sloop

came

close

alongside

the

steamer

where

her

sides

were

sliced

almost

to

the

lower

deck

for

the

loading

of

fruit

.

The

sailors

of

the

Salvador

grappled

and

held

her

there

.

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Captain

McLeod

leaned

over

the

side

.

"

Well

,

señor

,

the

jig

is

up

,

I

'm

told

.

"

"

The

jig

is

up

?

"

Don

Sabas

looked

perplexed

for

a

moment

.

"

That

revolution

--

ah

,

yes

!

"

With

a

shrug

of

his

shoulders

he

dismissed

the

matter

.

The

captain

learned

of

the

escape

and

the

imprisoned

crew

.

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"

Caribs

?

"

he

said

;

"

no

harm

in

them

.

"

He

slipped

down

into

the

sloop

and

kicked

loose

the

hasp

of

the

hatch

.

The

black

fellows

came

tumbling

up

,

sweating

but

grinning

.

"

Hey

!

black

boys

!

"

said

the

captain

,

in

a

dialect

of

his

own

;

"

you

sabe

,

catchy

boat

and

vamos

back

same

place

quick

.

"

They

saw

him

point

to

themselves

,

the

sloop

and

Coralio

.

"

Yas

,

yas

!

"

they

cried

,

with

broader

grins

and

many

nods

.

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