bour once they were ready to sail. There remained but one power to restrain them. The sense of justice. Not the Emperor's, for he had none. Not that of his ministers, for he controlled them. But the sense of justice of the people of France.
When a consul starts to go behind the government to which he is accredited and appeals in the name of a foreign power to the citizens of a country, he takes his reputation in his hands, and starts upon the forbidden paths that usually lead to disgrace and recall. As a matter of fact, it can only be done under two circumstances. One is under cover, where the envoy supplies the ammunition and a native does the talking—as when Bunau-Varilla engineered the defeat of the Nicaraguan route in the canal debate in Congress—or when the people are to be told something they wish to hear, and agree with in advance. Otherwise the fate of Dumba and citizen Genet lies in wait.
Bigelow used both methods. If there exists
