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"Yet I do not believe that he would be concerned in anything absolutely traitorous. As for the Countess--I fear that I have incurred her ill-will. She is friendly too, they say, with Domiloff. I cannot see though what mischief she can do. Ruttens," he added, turning towards the door, "are there sufficient police left in Theos to effect the arrest of one man?"
Ruttens, grey-bearded, long since a pensioner, saluted the King respectfully.
"Your Majesty," he answered, "it depends upon the man."
"The man is Baron Domiloff!"
Ruttens shook his head.
"Your Majesty," he said, "we can make the attempt. Yesterday it would have been possible enough. But last night half the veterans and weaklings who have been enrolled as special police deserted."
"Deserted!" the King exclaimed, frowning.
Ruttens smiled.
"Deserted in order to make their way to the front, your Majesty. Old Kennestoff, who is eighty years old, got out his rifle and went, and a dozen more well nigh his age. I myself----"
He hesitated. The King's face had cleared.
"You had my orders, Ruttens, and my special commission. A few good men we must have in Theos."
"There are rascals enough, your Majesty," Ruttens said, with grave face. "There are a good many aliens, too, whose presence here I cannot understand. They pay their way, and hang round the squares in little groups, always whispering to themselves. They call themselves farmers and shopkeepers from the frontier, but there is little of the Thetian in their faces to my mind. The city were healthier cleared of them, your Majesty."
The King smiled bitterly.
"But how, my good Ruttens?" he exclaimed. "You and your few veterans would be powerless against them."
Ruttens sighed.
"It is true, your Majesty," he answered. "To be frank, I have put them down in my mind as creatures of Domiloff. And though to-day I will endeavour to effect his arrest I fear very much that he is well guarded against anything of the sort."
Once more the courtyard rang with the clatter of hoofs. There was commotion below and in the palace.
"It is word from the front," the King cried.
The messenger stood before him.
"Your Majesty," he announced, "General Dartnoff has telegraphed that he is engaged. He adds that there seems to be some extensive movement preparing."
Ughtred tore himself away. Sara choked back a sob, and held out both her hands. At the moment of parting they were alone.
"Good-bye, dear," she whispered. "Do your best and have faith. I am not afraid for you or for Theos."
He kissed her and galloped away, followed by his few attendants. Her cheerfulness was inspiring. His heart swelled with pride at the thought of her. She had destroyed forever his lingering superst.i.tion as to the obligations of race--she a daughter of the democracy with the heart and courage of a queen. Ughtred had pa.s.sed through his one hour of weakness. As the engine with its one solitary carriage tore across the plain to Solika a new and finer hopefulness was born in him. Her words and her steadfast optimism had fired his blood. He would fight his country's enemy so that for very shame Europe should cry "Hold!"
CHAPTER XLIV
In his room, with heavy curtains closely drawn across the barred windows to keep from his ears the distant mutterings of the guns, Nicholas of Reist sat in torment. From below in the square he had heard the people's farewell to the King as he had hastened back to the scene of action--the echoes of the city's varying moods floated up to him from hour to hour. And whilst all was activity, ceaseless, restless, he alone of the men of Theos sat idle, his hands before him, waiting for he knew not what. It was indeed torment. The blood of his fighting forefathers was burning in his veins. To linger here in miserable inaction whilst the war music throbbed in his ears was like torture to him. Even Domiloff had found it best for the last few days to leave him alone. Besides, Domiloff was busy.
In a small room at the back of the house the Russian was receiving a visitor. Before the door were half-a-dozen soldiers, and the bolts were closely drawn. Yet even then the conversation between the two men was tense and nervous.
"To have ventured here yourself," Domiloff said, drawing the shade more closely over the lamp, "seems to me, my dear Ha.s.sen, a little like bravado. You hold the wits of this people a little too cheaply. I am not yet strong enough to protect you. If you are recognized you will be shot at sight."
"One runs risks always," the other answered carelessly, "and besides it is your fault that I am here. Your inaction is unaccountable. There has been no message from you for three days. I am afraid that you are bungling matters."
"And you--what of you?" the other answered, hotly. "What were your men doing at Solika to be driven back by a handful of half-trained farmers? I expected the Turks at Theos to-day, and all would have been well. Yet with eighty thousand men you do nothing. You too who have boasted of your soldiers and your artillery as the equal of any in Europe."
The visitor shrugged his shoulders.
"Domiloff," he said, "you are irritated and nervous. Be careful what you say. I admit that so far we have been checked, but it is not sense to talk of half-trained farmers. Ughtred of Tyrnaus is a fine soldier.
Mind, I was with him in Egypt, and he had a sound training there. His dispositions against attack are excellent. He has evidently been thinking them out since first he came here. Then you told us that he had no modern artillery at all."
"He had not, then," Domiloff answered. "These batteries were a present from a rich fool of an American or his daughter."
"The fair Sara Van Decht! I heard that she was here."
"You know her?"
"She visited at Colonel Erlito's in London," Ha.s.sen answered. "So did I. But that is of no consequence. You very well know that we relied upon your help to finish this campaign quickly. So far you have done nothing. Perhaps you do not understand the reason for haste. Let me tell you this. Even now the message is before the Sultan waiting for his signature which will recall the troops and bring the invasion to an end."
"Gorteneff is in Constantinople himself," Domiloff answered. "He will not allow it to be signed."
"Gorteneff! So is Sir Henry White in Constantinople. You seem to forget that."
Domiloff's face was black.
"White! The Englishman! Bah! You will not tell me that your master fears the English any more. Their day is over. They have no longer a place amongst the Powers."
Ha.s.sen smiled.
"You exaggerate," he said. "England is the only country in Europe at least who could bring our master's palace about his ears in twenty-four hours, and make beautiful Constantinople a heap of blackened ruins. No, no, Domiloff. My master is wishful to serve you.
We are here--so far we have done all the work--it is for your aid now we ask. That is only fair. You do not seem to understand the real reason for haste. I know that at any moment the protest which White has already presented may be followed by an ultimatum."
"And your master would regard it?"
"I am very sure that he would," Ha.s.sen answered, promptly. "It is not worth while attempting to deceive you. If England is really no longer a country worthy of consideration, fight her yourself. I am very sure that we shall not. And you must remember this, Domiloff, the agitation throughout England in favour of Theos is fed day by day with letters from this very city. The writer must be with you all the time.
Yet you permit him to continue--you with your unscrupulousness and your secret agents. England's intervention, if she does intervene, is entirely your fault."
"d.a.m.n that fellow," Domiloff muttered through his teeth.
"You know who it is!" Ha.s.sen exclaimed.
"Yes!"
"And you permit him to continue? You have made no effort to close his mouth?"