Jessamine might arrest till he was blown. The crew of the
_Good Sister_ hadn't shipped to be speared by a king's bodyguard,
and I didn't care much for parties in St. Louis.
Soon we were eating comfortably, sitting on the big piazza around
one of Craney's black walnut tables. The palace seemed to be fitted
and furnished so far mainly from the cargo. Each of us had two or
three waiters back of his chair, some men, some women. The warriors
squatted in line out in front among the flowers. Whenever we were
through with a dish, Craney would send the rest of it down to the
warriors, and they'd gobble it, and watch for more, with their eyes
shining, but very quiet. I recollect there was something that was
like a duck, and some canned tomatoes, and a kind of fruit with a
yellow rind.
"There's two hundred in my army," says Craney sociably, "in four
divisions. This is a special one. Mighty fond of drilling they are.
Fact, 'most everybody's in the army. They're softening under
discipline, but some of 'em are bloodthirsty yet."
"J. R.," says Jessamine, "I hate to do it. It's a painful duty."
Craney says: "Just so. Say no more. You couldn't be expected to know
the law of this state touching the person of the king.
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