"Pardon me," replied Stranleigh, with the utmost placidness. "Unfortunately spoken language does not differentiate between terms as the written word does. I'm not using American slang, but good solid German, when I call you a crank. I use a 'k,' not a 'c' The German word for a man who is ill is 'kranke.' More correctly at this moment you are a 'herzkranke.' Do brush up your German, Peter, but anyhow, don't fail me at Charing Cross."
"Oh, that's all very well, Stranleigh, but while I'm in danger of being dragged before the law-courts"
"Within half an hour this possible litigation will be in the hands of the most competent solicitor in London, so I implore you, Peter, to go home, and allow me time to give a few orders. I must get into telegraphic communication with the German Government in order that my own comfort, and incidentally yours, shall be properly looked after."
Mackeller proved very difficult to manage, as, indeed, all strenuous men are when they only half believe what the doctor tells them, and feel irritated at the thought of even a temporary suspension of business. Stranleigh, however, was imperturbably good-natured, though he sighed with relief when finally he got Peter aboard the sleeping-car at Ostend.
