At this Jones rose quickly to his feet, a dangerous light in his eyes, and he was about to speak, but General von Lichtenstein rushed over and stopped him.

“His Majesty is beside himself,” he urged in a low voice. “He does not mean what he says. When he is himself again he will regret the indignity that he has offered your country and will make reparation.”

The Emperor had also arisen and was standing in the midst of as furious and warlike a looking lot of men as had ever grouped themselves around his wild barbaric ancestors, ready to pile their dead bodies about their master and give the last drop of blood for his protection.

They looked as if they approved and only waited for the word to rush in and avenge the insult to their beloved lord, and while waiting for this word they stood and glared at Edestone with a look of absolute contempt and undying hatred.

“Well, which shall it be?” said the Emperor, in a voice which was more under control but none the less determined. “Will you stop your film?”

Edestone, who all this time had stood perfectly still looking at the Emperor with eyes out of which had gone every vestige of deference and respect, showed in every feature a fixed and determined but absolutely cool defiance. The only time that his face had changed or his position altered since he last spoke was when the Emperor was apparently suffering, and then it had taken on an expression of deep pity and sincere sympathy and he too had made a step forward as if to render assistance.

This had quickly changed, however, when his glance caught the look of hatred that was riveted upon him. Declining even to glance at the Emperor, he addressed himself directly to the Secretary of Legation, speaking in a perfectly clear voice, which was a relief after the Emperor’s painful and rasping efforts.

“Mr. Secretary,” he said slowly, “I resent the insult to you, and through you to our country, which you represent, but if I thought that by complying with the unjust demands which the Emperor of Germany has seen fit to make I could prevent war between the United States and his country, I naturally would comply. When I see, however, that the Emperor of Germany refuses to respect the rights of an American citizen in the house of his Ambassador, I realize that the destruction of my film will not save the situation.” He turned to the Emperor. “I regret that I cannot comply with your commands. The matter is now between our two Governments.”

The Emperor laid his hand upon his sword and made a movement as though he intended to strike, at which every sword in the room flashed from its scabbard, save only that of old von Lichtenstein, who pressing forward laid a dissuasive hand on the Emperor’s arm.

“Don’t let him draw you on,” he whispered to his master; “this may be some trick.” Then to the rest he said in a contemptuous tone: “Don’t make fools of yourselves and make Germany ridiculous.”