The Traitors Part 59

Up at that dark, unlit window had flashed for a moment the pale, terror-stricken face of a woman, drawn back almost at once by an unseen hand. The echoes of her pa.s.sionate cry for help rang still in his ears. And, strangest thing of all, the face was the face of Marie of Reist.

Ughtred forgot then that he was a King, and that his life was a pledge to his country. He remembered only that he was a man of more than ordinary strength, and that from that dreary little room a woman was calling to him for help. In the pa.s.sage the few loiterers who disputed his way were brushed on one side like flies. He sprang up the little staircase, which creaked under his weight, in half-a-dozen bounds. The girl's cries were plainly to be heard now. He thundered upon the door.

There came for a moment no answer. The girl's cry was stifled, as though by a rough hand.

"Let me in," Ughtred cried. "At once."

There came no answer save a man's muttered curse and the sound of footsteps. Ughtred was wearing his military riding boots, and the door was crazy and old. A single charge, and it went cras.h.i.+ng into the room. Ughtred stumbled, and saved his life, for a bullet whistled just over his head as Domiloff sprang to the window.

Marie, breathless and dishevelled, recognized Ughtred with a cry of wonder.

"The King!" she exclaimed, and Domiloff, who might have escaped, looked round and hesitated. Ughtred, who was as quick as lightning upon his feet, s.n.a.t.c.hed him back from the window-sill and threw him heavily upon the floor.

There was no time for explanations. Through the debris of the door there sprang into the room half-a-dozen of the loiterers from the room below. They faced the King, standing like a giant in the centre of the floor with his long military sword flas.h.i.+ng grey in the dim light.

"Be off," he cried. "This is not your affair. I do not wish to hurt any of you, but I will kill the first man who comes a yard further."

They hung back, but one remained looking about him with crafty, peering eyes, his long upper teeth gleaming like yellow fangs. His hand lurked about his tunic.

"Little master," he said, "tell us what has happened here? There is a man hurt. What have you done to him?"

Ughtred's sword was within an inch of the man's chest.

"The man is unhurt and my prisoner," Ughtred said.

"Your prisoner, little master. My eyes are bad, and the light is dim.

Who are you to come here and make prisoners?"

"I am the King," Ughtred answered, rashly.

There were those who knew him. There was a murmur which was like a growl, and Ughtred hesitated no longer, but ran his sword through the man whose knife was already stealing from his tunic. He fell back with a shriek of horror, and the King himself in grievous danger, wrenched his sword free. There were half-a-dozen knives raised, and one must have struck into his chest. But Marie, stooping down, had seized Domiloff's revolver, and, leaning over, shot the man through the heart. The King, who had recovered his balance, sprang amongst them, and they scattered like rabbits. Then came a great cry from down-stairs.

"The soldiers! Quick! Save yourself."

They fled without waiting for a parting stroke. Ughtred lowered his sword and let them pa.s.s. There were three dead and wounded in the room, and Domiloff lay on his back where the King had thrown him. The King turned to Marie.

"You are a brave woman," he said. "You have saved both our lives."

But she held out both her hands to him, and her eyes were streaming.

"Your Majesty has saved more than my life," she faltered, "and I have not deserved it. I have been your enemy."

He took her hands gently.

"We have fought together," he said. "Henceforth we should be comrades."

Eleven men sat around a long table in one of the rooms of the Reist house. They talked only in whispers, and a general air of uneasiness was apparent. It was rumoured that the King was in the city, and these men felt themselves to be conspirators. Domiloff was strangely absent.

The Countess of Reist in her own house had omitted to offer them a welcome.

Their suspense was temporarily ended, however. The door opened, and Baron Doxis entered, followed by a foreigner, whom most of them recognized. They rose to their feet. Baron Doxis presented the guest.

"My colleagues," he announced, "this is Monsieur Gourdolis, the accredited envoy of the Czar to us. He has certain proposals to submit upon which we will at once debate."

A Counsellor rose up.

"Has the Countess of Reist any message to us from her brother?"

"The Countess of Reist," Baron Doxis answered, "is unaccountably absent."

"And Domiloff?" another asked. "It is chiefly owing to his representations that we are a.s.sembled here to-day. Is he too absent?"

There was a moment's silence. Then Gourdolis spoke.

"Gentlemen," he said, "my friend Domiloff will be with us doubtless before this meeting is dissolved. In the meantime, I will, with your permission, lay before you the terms on which my august master the Czar is willing to stay the hand of Turkey, by force if necessary, and guarantee your independence."

Some heavy curtains at the end of the room were suddenly thrown aside.

The King stood there, and by his side Marie of Reist.

"My arrival, it would appear, is opportune," the King said, grimly.

"Address yourself to me, and proceed, Monsieur Gourdolis."

CHAPTER XLIX

One by one the members of the Council staggered to their feet. The coming of the King was like a bombsh.e.l.l thrown amongst them. They were met in secret conclave, a proceeding to the last degree unconst.i.tutional. They were receiving, too, an emissary from a foreign country which amounted to high treason. Doxis was perhaps the first to recover himself.

"Your Majesty's coming is unexpected," he said. "I trust that there is no ill news from the seat of war."

"There is no news, save good news," the King answered, having handed a chair to Marie. "Yesterday's battle you all know about. I will tell you the prospects later. Meanwhile, I see that you have a stranger here. What has Monsieur Gourdolis to say to us?"

Gourdolis rose slowly to his feet. He was a man of resource, a shrewd and ready diplomatist. Already he was scheming how to turn to his own advantage the King's unexpected presence. He played a bold card.

"Your Majesty," he said, respectfully, "it was painful to me to put forward my master's propositions to the Council of the House of Laws in your absence, it is still more painful to do so in your presence. I speak, however, to the representatives of a nation whose liberty and whose very existence is threatened, and I offer them--in a word--salvation. That is my excuse for my presence here to-day."

"What your offer really amounts to is no doubt the Russian yoke instead of the Turkish," Ughtred remarked, bitterly. "My forefathers have tasted more than once of Muscovite generosity."

Gourdolis shook his head gravely.

"Your Majesty," he said, "you wrong my country, and my master. Our demands are very simple, and I lay the terms of them here upon the table. The only conditions upon which I regret to say that my master is immovable is the immediate abdication of your Majesty."

The King sat with unchanged face.

"In favour of whom?" he asked.