Part 15 (1/2)

”I am glad to receive so distinguished a person,” he said.

”Thank you,” said Bonaparte, ”but this is not a society function, Your Highness--I have come here on business, so spare me your flatteries.”

Apollyon turned purple with rage.

”Insolent!” he cried. ”Consider yourself under arrest.”

”Certainly,” said Bonaparte, calmly. ”Will you kindly hand me your crown?”

Apollyon rose in his wrath, and ordered his aides to arrest Bonaparte, and to cast him into the furnace. ”Make it a million degrees Farenheit,” he roared.

”I regret to inform your majesty,” said the chief aide, ”that word has just been received that the fires are out, the coal-yard has been captured by the rebels, and five adventurous spirits have let all the vitriol out of the reservoir into the Styx.”

”Summon my guards, and have this man boned, then!” raged Apollyon.

”It is also with regret that I have to tell you,” returned the aide, ”that the Royal Guard has gone over to the enemy, having been promised higher wages.”

”We have Cerberus left,” cried Apollyon, ”let him take this base intruder and tear him limb from limb.”

Napoleon burst out into a laugh. ”You will excuse me, Your Majesty,”

he said. ”But Cerberus is already fixed. We poisoned two of his heads, and he is even now whining for his life with the third.”

”Then am I undone,” moaned Apollyon, covering his face with his hands.

”You are,” said Bonaparte, ”but we'll tie you up again in short order. We'll put you on one of your own gridirons and do you to a turn.”