STRAINED RELATIONS.
On the following morning there was no change to be observed in the
aspect of the Mission. Only the gentlemen of the party were acquainted
with the fact of the Vizier’s sudden declaration of war, and they
shared Sir Dugald’s opinion that it would be bad policy to allow
Fath-ud-Din to see that his threats had any effect upon their minds.
The great gates were therefore opened as usual to allow the customary
throng of country-people and other sellers of fresh provisions to
enter and hold their market in the outer court, and the flag, hoisted
at sunrise, floated proudly from its staff in front of Bachelors’
Buildings.
Fitz Anstruther left the Mission early that morning on an errand of
his own. He had set his heart on getting Miss Keeling a Persian kitten
in the bazaar, and immediately after disposing of his _chota hazri_ he
induced the interpreter to come out with him and assist him in making
his purchase, as, although he had succeeded in making an Ethiopian
audience understand his scientific lecture, he felt a well-grounded
distrust of his own powers of conducting a bargain in the currency of
the country. The absence of the two was soon discovered; but although
Sir Dugald testified some displeasure when he found that Kustendjian
was not at hand to go on with the drafting of the treaty, no anxiety
was felt as to their safety, since none of the staff had hesitated to
walk or ride about the city without an escort after the first week of
their stay there.
It was considered advisable to take no notice of the Vizier’s visit,
and to exhibit a readiness to continue the negotiations as before, and
therefore Sir Dugald and his staff assembled as usual in what was
called the Durbar-hall, a large airy room on the ground-floor of
Bachelors’ Buildings. Here they awaited the appearance either of
Kustendjian or of an emissary from the Palace, Dr Headlam lingering
for a talk before departing to his expectant patients opposite. He had
just heaved a sigh and taken up his helmet, preparatory to seeking his
own domain, when a distant sound, gradually increasing in volume,
broke upon the ears of those in the room. It might have been rolling
thunder, or the roar of wild beasts, or the rush of a torrent; but
there was no reason why it should be any of these. Sir Dugald raised
his head and listened attentively.
“I have heard that in the Mutiny,” he said. “The town is up about
something, and they are coming in this direction. Have you all your
revolvers here, gentlemen?”
Each man produced his weapon promptly, and Sir Dugald led the way out
on the verandah, the whole party holding their breath to listen to the
sound. The servants had noticed it also, and were standing about in
the courtyard with pale faces, listening intently. Some, as the noise
grew nearer, crept back to their own quarters in terror, the rest
gathered in a group and looked to their masters for orders.
“Turn all those Ethiopians out,” said Sir Dugald, pointing to the
salesmen and women who had been exhibiting their wares in the
courtyard, “and shut the gates.”
No further command was needed. The servants obeyed the order
zealously, bundling the unhappy country-people out neck and crop, and
throwing their possessions after them. But before they could clear the
courtyard of the bewildered and terrified crowd there was a fresh
commotion at the gateway, and Fitz forced his way in, followed by
Kustendjian, and rushed up to Sir Dugald.
“There’s a regular howling mob coming this way, sir!” he cried. “We
saw old Fath-ud-Din’s steward, who goes to the Palace with him, and
another man, stirring them up against us in the bazaar, and when we
came away they followed us, and then chased us. They are saying that
we have annexed the country, and that the flag is the sign of it. They
mean to tear it down.”
“Ah!” said Sir Dugald, quietly, stepping down from the verandah. “Put
your revolvers into your pockets, gentlemen; we won’t use them at
present. Fetch your riding-whips, if you please, or a good strong
lithe cane, if you have one, any of you. We will not shed blood unless
we are driven to it.”
The young men rushed to their quarters for the required weapons,
returning to find Sir Dugald standing beside the flagstaff with his
revolver in his hand. The confusion at the gate had been increased by
the arrival of the mob outside, for they found their entrance impeded
not only by the servants who were doing their best to close the doors,
but by the mixed multitude of their own people who were in process of
being expelled. But the piles of merchandise thrown down or dropped in
the gateway made it impossible for the doors to be shut, and Sir
Dugald turned to Fitz.
“Go back to the verandah, Mr Anstruther, and blow your whistle to call
the servants in. Concentrate them in the front rooms on that floor,
and serve out the rifles and ammunition; but, remember, not a shot is
to be fired so long as we are out here. It would be the death of all
of us. If we are driven in we will bring the flag with us; but until
we come, you fire at your peril.”
As Fitz obeyed, and the sound of his whistle rang out clear and
shrill, penetrating even the hubbub at the gate, and causing the
servants to abandon their futile efforts and turn to run to the house,
Sir Dugald addressed his companions.
“Stratford, you are the tallest. Keep your revolver out, and stand by
the flagstaff. Shoot down the first man that lays a hand on the
halliards. No; on second thoughts I will take that post myself. It is
possible that I am a little cooler in the head than you, and it is
certain that you are a good deal stronger of arm than I am. Take your
places in front of the flag, gentlemen; that’s it. Your business is to
let no one pass you. This is not an armed mob; it is just
Fath-ud-Din’s _badmashes_, and sticks and whips ought to keep them
back. I needn’t tell you to lay it on well. Never mind how hard you
hit.”
“Here they come!” said the doctor; and as the last servant broke out
of the crowd by the gate and fled to the house the mob burst in with a
roar. They made straight for the flag, but paused and recoiled at the
sight of the three younger men with their whips, and Sir Dugald,
revolver in hand, leaning idly against the flagstaff.
“Not much pluck in _them_!” muttered Dick, disgustedly; but as though
they had understood the disparaging words, the mob gathered their
courage together and came on again. In a moment the younger men found
themselves engaged in a furious hand-to-hand encounter, in which fists
and whips were opposed to the force of numbers. Fitz declared
afterwards that he could hear over all the din of the struggle the
sound of the blows as they fell, although the howling of those who
received them ought to have drowned the noise. Once or twice Sir
Dugald raised his revolver and let it drop again, for in the whole
course of the short, sharp fight no one actually got within the ring
of defenders, and presently Fitz, exceeding his orders, seized the
psychological instant for a most opportune diversion. Besides rifles,
he had provided the servants with all the sticks he could muster; and
when he saw the mob begin to give way, he led forth half his force to
clear the courtyard. Fear of the defenders plainly visible at the
windows had hitherto kept the space between the flagstaff and the
house free of intruders, and now the sturdy frontiersmen, covered by
the rifles of their friends behind, advanced against the foe, laying
about them as they came with hearty goodwill. Gradually the mob
yielded their ground. Firing they might perhaps have faced, but this
extremely unheroic method of fighting disgusted them with the sport.
As the defenders closed their ranks and pressed the fugitives harder,
the retreat became a rout, nay, a headlong race--an obstacle race--in
which every man was eager to save his back from blows. The last
remnants of the mob struggled through the gateway at last, and the
courtyard was clear, and the honour of the flag maintained, without
the shedding of a drop of blood.
“Clear that rubbish away and close the gates,” said Sir Dugald. “We
will keep them shut in future, and the people must bring their things
to sell in the street outside. That market of theirs nearly did for us
to-day.”
Although the non-arrival of any help from the authorities might have
led to the conclusion that the riot had been inaudible in other parts
of the city, no sooner was it over, and the enemy driven out, than an
official appeared from the King to congratulate the victors--exactly,
said Fitz, as he would have done had the result gone the other way,
save that his congratulations might then have had a little sincerity
in them. But the messenger who came to congratulate went away grave,
for Sir Dugald committed to him a full statement of the morning’s
proceedings, to be laid before the King, with the intimation that
unless apologies were at once offered and the instigators of the
demonstration punished, the negotiations would be broken off forthwith
and the Mission would return to Khemistan. There was no doubt that it
was exceedingly injudicious of Fath-ud-Din to have allowed his
servants to be seen stirring up the mob; and the official, in deep
perplexity, turned over in his mind the relative disadvantages of
offending the Vizier by informing the King of the truth, and on the
other hand, of angering the King if Sir Dugald took his departure, and
the facts which had brought it about became known.
How the messenger settled matters with his conscience was unknown for
the present to the party at the Mission, for the next person they saw
was Mr Hicks, who flew to the spot on the wings of zeal the moment
that the news of the outbreak reached him. Stratford declared that his
countenance expressed deep disappointment when he realised that the
courtyard was not filled with the dead and dying, and that the flag
hung unscathed; but the doctor maintained that he was prejudiced, and
that Mr Hicks had hurried to offer his help in the defence, heedless
of the danger he might incur in meeting the defeated mob. However this
might be, Mr Hicks warmed with enthusiasm when he was told the story
of the morning, and finally advanced to Sir Dugald and grasped him by
the hand.
“General,” he said; “shake! You are a white man, you are. You have
licked that poor ordinary crowd of niggers in a way to earn you the
eternal gratitude of every Western stranger that circumstances may
drive to sojourn in this uncared-for state. But I guess that your
troubles are only beginning, sir.”
“Possibly,” said Sir Dugald, with perfect unconcern.
“Well, if things look black, you have only to pass me the word,
General, and I will vamoose my ranche yonder and come and give you a
hand. I should be right down proud to fight shoulder to shoulder with
the man that turned back that mob without shedding a drop of blood.”
“You are very kind,” said Sir Dugald, with a complete lack of
enthusiasm. “I can assure you that things must go very badly with us
before we seek to involve you in our troubles”--a reply delivered with
so much urbanity that Mr Hicks could not at first decide whether his
offer was accepted or refused.
The next visitor appeared in the course of the afternoon, and was no
other than the Grand Vizier himself. It was evident that the royal
messenger had decided upon telling his master the truth, for
Fath-ud-Din came to offer suitable apologies for the conduct of his
retainers. The steward, he said, was an old family servant, who, owing
to his constant intercourse with his master, had imbibed from him such
exalted ideas of patriotism that on hearing the treaty discussed, and
conceiving it to be unduly advantageous to England, he had felt moved
to stir up the townspeople against it, his religious zeal having also
been inflamed by the memories and hardships incidental to the month of
Ramadan, which had just ended. The other instigator of the outbreak
was a young theological student, a member of a class which was often
unruly and troublesome, and which had great influence with the people.
It was preposterous to imagine that the Vizier could have had any
previous knowledge of the doings of these two fanatics, and he had
come to declare his sorrow that it had been in the power of such
wretches not only to annoy and alarm the Mission, but also to involve
in their disgrace his own spotless name. He had given immediate orders
that they were both to be severely punished, and if Sir Dugald liked,
he would have them brought in and bastinadoed before him, so that he
might assure himself that they had received their deserts. In any case
(as Sir Dugald politely declined the proffered satisfaction for
himself, while intimating that he would send a representative to see
that the punishment was duly carried out), he brought assurances that
the King of all kings felt the deepest regret for the way in which
things had turned out, and entreated that the Envoy would not withdraw
the light of his countenance from Kubbet-ul-Haj, but would overlook
the fright and annoyance which had been caused to the Mission, and
remain in Ethiopia until the treaty had been duly concluded.
“Fright?” said Sir Dugald--for the Vizier had emphasised the word, and
repeated it more than once in different forms--“I saw no particular
signs of fright about our people. What we felt was more like disgust.
Apart from the violation of courtesy and propriety in the attack made
on the flag, it was disagreeably close work down in the court there
with that crowd pressing all round us.”
“Ah, my lord the Envoy is a soldier, and knows not fear, and his young
men are brave also,” replied Fath-ud-Din, stroking his beard; “but the
women--my lord’s household--surely their hearts became as water when
they heard the shouts of the people?”
“This is the first I have heard of it, if they did,” replied Sir
Dugald; “but then, I was not in a position to observe their behaviour.
Mr Anstruther, you were in command at the rear. What were the ladies
doing while the fighting was going on? Was there any fainting or
screaming?”
“Oh no, sir. The ladies were on our roof here, watching the fun.”
“But that was extremely injudicious. If we had been obliged to
evacuate Bachelors’ Buildings, their presence would have added
immensely to our difficulties. You should have ordered them down, and
insisted on their returning to their own quarters.”
“So I did, sir.” There was a gleam of fun in Fitz’s eyes. “I ran up
there myself to insist with greater effect, and they laughed at me. It
was flat mutiny, but I could not spare sufficient men to put them
under arrest.”
“Ah, the women were driven mad by terror. Their feet were weighed down
so that they could not move,” said Fath-ud-Din pityingly, when this
had been translated to him.
“And just at the beginning, sir,” Fitz went on to Sir Dugald, “when
there was that crush in the gateway, Miss Keeling sent her maid down
to ask me whether I couldn’t tell the people not to move about quite
so much, because she wanted to sketch them. That was how I first found
out that Lady Haigh and she were up there; but I didn’t think that the
remark showed a proper sense of the seriousness of the situation. I
assure you that it pained me very much, sir.”
“Just translate that to the Vizier, Mr Kustendjian,” said Sir Dugald,
but again incredulity was written on Fath-ud-Din’s face.
“Surely my lord knows, as I do,” he said, “that the young man is one
of those who delight to laugh at the beards of their elders, and to
utter the thing that is not true, to the confusion of their own
faces?”
“I see that we shall have to convince this gentleman by the evidence
of his own senses,” remarked Sir Dugald, addressing no one in
particular. “Mr Anstruther, would you be kind enough to find out what
the ladies are doing now?”
“They are working on the terrace, sir,” said Fitz, returning, “and the
servants are just bringing in afternoon tea.”
“Very well. Be so good as to ask Lady Haigh to have coffee brought in
as well, and tell her that Fath-ud-Din is coming to pay her a visit.
She and Miss Keeling had better put on those veils of theirs, by the
bye, for we don’t want any more complications introduced into this
business.”
Fitz departed on his errand in high glee, and when a decent interval
had been allowed for the transformation to be effected, Sir Dugald,
after a few preliminary remarks tending to impress Fath-ud-Din with a
sense of the greatness of the honour about to be conferred upon him,
led his guest into the inner courtyard, and up the steps to the
terrace. Here, indeed, there was little sign of panic. There were
books and work about, and Georgia’s sketching materials were visible
in a corner. She herself had the Persian kitten, which Fitz had
brought home in his pocket in the morning, asleep on her lap, while
Lady Haigh was pouring out tea with a hand in which the keenest gaze
could not distinguish the slightest tendency to tremble. The Vizier
looked disappointed--this is putting it mildly, for the young men
agreed afterwards that his expression was fiendish--but he appeared to
be reflecting that the veils in which his hostesses were shrouded
might be serving a useful purpose in concealing the traces of fear,
for presently he turned to Sir Dugald.
“Let not my lord be offended if I entreat him to inquire of his
household whether terror did not seize them this morning,” he said,
meekly enough.
“By no means,” returned Sir Dugald, genially. “Elma, the Vizier would
like to know whether you were frightened when his people were kicking
up that row in the courtyard?”
“Frightened?” snapped Lady Haigh. “What was there to be frightened
about, I should like to know?” The measureless scorn in her eyes and
voice evidently reached Fath-ud-Din in spite of the double barrier of
the foreign language and the _burka_, for he swallowed his cupful of
scalding coffee hastily, and it was necessary to recover him from a
choking fit before he could proceed with his inquiry.
“Then will my lord ask the doctor lady, who has no husband to protect
her with the might of his arm and the power of his name, whether she
was not terrified?” he asked.
“Frightened?” returned Georgia, when the question had been put to her.
“Oh dear, no! I have a revolver. I think,” she added, carelessly,
after a pause to let the information she had just given sink in, “that
it was only the kitten which was frightened. Poor little thing! It was
in a pitiable state when I rescued it from Mr Anstruther’s
coat-pocket.”
“By the head of our lord the King,” burst out Fath-ud-Din, rising
hurriedly, “these are no women, but fighting men!”
“Isn’t it worth your while, then, to strain a point in order to gain
an alliance with a nation that has such women?” asked Sir Dugald,
seizing the opportunity to point a moral.
“Nay, rather,” said the Vizier, retreating to the steps as he spoke,
“what are we doing to admit within our borders a nation whose very
women are of such a temper as this?”
“I’m sure that was the sweetest compliment that the New Woman has ever
received,” said Dick to Georgia, as Sir Dugald, followed by Stratford
and Fitz, escorted his discomfited guest across the courtyard.
“Major North,” said Lady Haigh, briskly, “I consider that you are
distinctly rude to your Chief’s wife. I don’t know whether you mean to
deny me a share in Fath-ud-Din’s pretty speech, or to insinuate that I
am a New Woman; but, in either case, I think that your conduct is
sadly lacking in respect.”
“I don’t think Major North meant to be rude, Lady Haigh,” said
Georgia, playing with the kitten’s tail. “His tongue ran away with
him. It is a habit it has sometimes.”
“I apologise humbly, Lady Haigh,” said Dick. “In any case, what I have
just heard would have forced me to believe that the New Woman was very
like the old one. Now if either you or Miss Keeling would do me the
honour of having the last word, my submission would be complete.”
“The question is,” said Sir Dugald, returning to the tea-table with
Stratford while Lady Haigh and Georgia were still laughing, “what was
it exactly that Fath-ud-Din hoped to gain by this attack on us?”
“Then you don’t think he was trying to wipe out the Mission at one
blow?” asked Stratford.
“No, I don’t, unless he hoped that we should be provoked into firing
on the mob, when the whole country would have risen against us. But I
don’t fancy that was his game. I think he must have been trying to
terrify us into withdrawing from Ethiopia at once, or else into
bribing him largely to get the treaty signed immediately.”
“I think he has received a little enlightenment as to the possibility
of squeezing us,” said Dick, with a grim smile. “My only cause for
misgiving is a doubt whether the ladies could ever again rise to the
superhuman height of heroism they displayed just now. Any weakening in
that attitude in the presence of danger might lead to unfavourable
remarks.”
“He is trying to punish us for what we said just now, Georgia,” said
Lady Haigh, amiably. “Never mind; when the danger comes he shall see
whether either of us weakens, as Mr Hicks would say.”
And the matter dropped amidst general laughter, which was perhaps what
Dick wanted, for after tea he asked for an interview with Sir Dugald,
and laid before him various expedients for rendering the Mission more
easily defensible. These measures he was authorised to adopt, but
without alarming the ladies, and he flattered himself that he was
successful in this, and that Lady Haigh and Georgia never perceived
that he drilled the servants each morning in the outer court, or that
he had divided them into watches, each of which took its turn in
remaining under arms. He had the more reason for this belief of his,
in that the ladies had other things to think of, for matters seemed to
have quieted down, and Georgia went to the Palace as usual, while Sir
Dugald’s audiences of the King were resumed, the subject of discussion
at present being the exact wording of the treaty, the provisions of
which had already been agreed upon.
It was noticed by the members of the Mission that the King’s manner
seemed to have changed since the outbreak, and that he was by no means
so easy to please even as he had been. He cavilled at points which had
already been definitely settled, and did his best to produce the
impression that he considered the treaty extremely disadvantageous to
Ethiopia. This was the more serious in that Jahan Beg reported the
reappearance upon the scene of the Scythian agent, with larger
presents and more abundant promises, and it was calculated to suggest
that the King wished to irritate Sir Dugald into breaking off the
negotiations. But long experience of the East had made Sir Dugald the
most patient of men--in public--and his staff were astonished at the
mildness with which he altered the wording of a clause again and
again, without ever abating one jot of the concessions he had
determined to obtain. His mingled tact and resolution carried the day
at last. The treaty was agreed upon in its entirety, and after being
engrossed on parchment by the King’s scribes, was read through to the
Envoy, behind whom stood the interpreter Kustendjian, ready to mark
the slightest deviation from the prescribed formula. There now
remained only the actual signing of the convention, and it was
arranged that Fath-ud-Din should bring the instrument, bearing the
seals of the King and the Grand Vizier, to the Mission in the morning,
there to receive Sir Dugald’s signature, after which the British
expedition might take its departure peacefully and honourably from
Kubbet-ul-Haj.
The day on which the treaty was to be signed was an important one also
to Georgia, for she had decided, after much consultation with Dr
Headlam, who could not, of course, see the patient, but who gave all
the advice that his experience of like cases suggested to him, to
undertake at last the operation on the Queen’s eyes. The state of the
patient’s general health was not yet as satisfactory as her doctor
could have desired, but when any day might bring about the departure
of the Mission, Georgia felt that she dared not delay longer. Even as
it was, there was little hope that she would be able to be present
when, after the necessary interval, the bandages could be removed from
the Queen’s eyes, and her professional conscience was troubled at the
possibility of leaving her work only half-done. But Sir Dugald was far
too anxious to get his followers safely out of Ethiopia to be willing
to spend a week or a fortnight longer in the country in order that
Georgia might see the result of her handiwork, and all she could do
was to explain everything very carefully, with Rahah’s help, to Nur
Jahan, and give her full directions in case of the occurrence of
various possible contingencies. The actual operation was performed
without a hitch, and Georgia felt deeply relieved as she fastened the
bandages, impressing on the Queen and all her attendants that they
were on no account to be removed until the specified time had elapsed.
The Mission was not likely, in any case, to take its departure until
three or four days had passed, and she promised to come in again at
least once more in order to note the patient’s state, and oftener if
she were summoned.
Nur Jahan escorted her to the door of the harem, plying her with
questions as to the treatment the patient ought to receive, and the
means by which Georgia had gained her medical skill. The girl had
already proved herself such an apt pupil that Georgia sighed again
over the thought that a medical career was an impossibility for her,
but she kept her promise loyally to Jahan Beg. The litter was not
ready when they reached the harem courtyard, and while it was being
prepared she stood in the doorway talking to Nur Jahan, but leaving
the questions as to her own hospital experiences unanswered, devoted
the time to reiterating her directions for the Queen’s treatment.
Presently a burst of laughter and loud talking reached her ears from
the rooms on the other side of the courtyard, and she looked across to
a balcony in which the forms of several women could be descried. They
were evidently attendants on the King’s second wife, Antar Khan’s
mother, who was frantically jealous of her rival owing to her monopoly
of the services of the doctor lady, and who had shown this feeling in
various unpleasant ways. She was much too proud to invite a visit from
Georgia, or even to feign illness as an excuse for summoning her, and
therefore she and her faction chose to regard the doctor lady as the
dirt under their feet. They drew aside their clothes when they passed
her, affected to consider the rooms in which she had been received as
unclean, and seized every opportunity of insulting her from a safe
distance.
The adherents of Rustam Khan’s mother, on the other hand, fully
appreciated the reasons for this state of things, and exulted over
their opponents on every possible occasion. They prided themselves on
their exclusive possession of the doctor lady, and would have rejoiced
in the opportunity of denying her services to the opposite party in a
case of dangerous illness. They had just shouted across the courtyard
the news of the satisfactory performance of the operation, and their
rivals were naturally moved to wrath. Hence they had assembled in
their balcony to point the finger of scorn at Georgia, and to jeer at
her and Nur Jahan, whose own position in the Palace was so uncertain
that she dared not run the risk of getting her husband into disgrace
by appealing to the King.
“Thou art very proud, O doctor lady,” cried a strong-lunged damsel,
leaning over the rail of the balcony, “but when next we see thee thou
wilt be entreating mercy at our lady’s feet.”
Rahah translated the prophecy to her mistress at once, and Georgia, in
sudden alarm, turned to Nur Jahan.
“You are our friend, Nur Jahan? If you knew of any plot against the
Mission, you would warn me?”
“I would risk my life and all that I have to warn thee in such a case,
O doctor lady,” replied Nur Jahan, earnestly; “but what I fear is a
plot of which I should know nothing.”
With these ominous words ringing in her ears, Georgia entered the
litter, and returned to the Mission in a somewhat perturbed state of
mind. It seemed, however, that there was nothing going on that need
excite her alarm. The Grand Vizier and his attendants had just brought
the treaty to be ratified, and Georgia caught a glimpse of the
assemblage as she passed through into the inner courtyard with Rahah.
Had she guessed what was about to happen in the Durbar-hall, nothing
would have induced her to leave the outer court.
On the table before Sir Dugald lay the treaty, written out with the
greatest care and delicacy on a huge sheet of parchment, and
displaying the most wonderful flourishes and other decorations at the
beginning of every clause. At the other side of the table stood
Fath-ud-Din, his attendants crowding behind him and peering eagerly
over his shoulder to watch Sir Dugald. The Envoy had taken the pen
from the hand of Fitz, and was glancing down the parchment for the
exact place at which he was to affix his signature. To all appearance
the treaty was the same that had been read over to him the day before,
and yet some suspicion entered his mind, prompted by his instinctive
caution. He would not trust to his own slight knowledge of the
Ethiopian language, but called Kustendjian forward.
“Be so good as to summarise that for me,” he said, laying his finger
on the clause which concerned the appointment of a British Resident,
with jurisdiction over British subjects in Ethiopia, who should take
up his abode at Iskandarbagh.
The Armenian’s eyes grew wide as he advanced and scanned the passage
pointed out by Sir Dugald. “The Resident is to have no power to decide
any cause in dispute between a British subject and an Ethiopian, nor
between two British subjects when the question concerns property or
other interests situated in Ethiopia, your Excellency,” he said, in a
low voice.
“And that,” said Sir Dugald, indicating the clause by which British
goods, with the exception of munitions of war and ardent spirits, were
to be allowed entrance into Ethiopia upon payment of duties not
exceeding a certain percentage of the value, which were to be imposed
by the King and approved by England.
“The minimum duty is to be a hundred per cent _ad valorem_, and there
is no proviso as to the approval of her Majesty’s Government, your
Excellency. Every one of the clauses has had additions or omissions
made in it, which render it absolutely useless for all practical
purposes.”
“Thank you, Mr Kustendjian.” Sir Dugald laid down the pen
deliberately, and took up the treaty. The Ethiopians present had
watched his actions with eager interest, but could read nothing from
his face. Now, however, he seemed to their guilty consciences to rise
and tower above them (under normal circumstances he was under middle
height), as he tore the tough parchment across and across, and flung
the fragments over the table to Fath-ud-Din.
[image: images/img_05.jpg
caption: He tore the tough parchment across and across...]
“Take those to your master,” he said; “and be thankful that I don’t
call the servants to drive you out of the courtyard as they drove your
hired ruffians last week. The Mission leaves Kubbet-ul-Haj to-day.”