Afternoon tea was brought in by an elderly man-servant in plain
livery, and was probably the most unconventional meal which Reist had
ever shared. They sat about promiscuously upon chairs and overturned
boxes, and there was a good deal of lively conversation. Brand was a
newspaper man, who had served as war correspondent with Erlito in the
Egyptian campaign, Mr. Van Decht and his daughter were rich Americans,
loitering about Europe. Hassen remained silent, and of him Reist
learned nothing further. The little which he knew sufficed.
Brand came over and sat by Reist's side. He was a tall, fair man, with
keen eyes and weather-beaten skin--by no means unlike Erlito, save
that his shoulders were not so broad, and he lacked the military
carriage.
"I am interested in your country, Duke," he said. "You are making
history there. It seems to me that it may become European history."
"Theos has fallen upon evil times," Reist answered. "All that we pray
of Europe is that we may be left alone. If that be granted us we shall
right ourselves."
Sara Van Decht looked across at him with frank interest.
"Do you come from Theos, Duke?" she asked.
Reist bowed.
"I have lived there all my life," he said, "and I know it better than
any other place.
"It is a very beautiful country," he continued, "and very dear to its
people. To strangers, though, and specially you who have been brought
up in America, I must confess that we should probably seem outside the
pale of civilization."
"Tell me why," she asked. "What are you so backward in?"
"Luxuries," he answered. "We have no electric light."
"It is detestable," she exclaimed.
"No street cars."
"They are abominable!"
Reist smiled quietly.
"We have scarcely any railways," he said, "and the telephone is rare
enough to be a curiosity."
She laughed back at him, and gave her empty cup to Brand.
"Primitivism," she declared, "is quite the most delightful thing in
the world. Then your politics, too, must be most exciting. You have
revolutions, and that sort of thing, do you not?"
"I do not understand you, Miss Van Decht," he said, quietly. "Will you
not tell me what you mean?"
"The papers are all so vague," she answered, "but one gathers that
Theos is in a state of political unrest. I believe in South America
they would call that a revolution."
Reist's eyes flashed fire. A faint smile flickered upon Hassen's lips.
"There is not any comparison," he said, haughtily, "any possible
comparison, between the affairs of one of the most ancient and
historical countries in Europe and the mushroom States of South
America. Theos, it is true, has made mistakes, and she will suffer for
them--she is suffering now."
"The Republic, for example," Hassen remarked, quietly.
"Theos," Reist answered, "is a country in which the Republican
instinct is as yet unborn. Her sons are homely and brave, tillers of
the soil, or soldiers. We have few cities to corrupt, and very little
attempt at the education which makes shopkeepers and anarchists of
honest men. Perhaps that is why we have kept our independence. Ay,
kept it, although hemmed in with false friends and open enemies."
Reist spoke with fervour, a fire in his dark eyes, a note of passion
vibrating in his slow tones. The girl especially watched him with keen
interest. To her all this was new and incredible. She was used to men
to whom self-restraint was amongst the cardinal virtues, to the
patriotism of torchlight processions and fire-crackers. This was all
so different, it was as though some one had turned back for her the
pages of history.... Reist surely was not of this generation? Erlito
had averted his face, Hassen was busy lighting a cigarette, Mr. Van
Decht was as bewildered as his daughter. Yet Reist's words, in a way,
had moved all of them. It was Hassen who answered.
"If the Republican instinct," he remarked, quietly, "is as yet unborn
in Theos, whence the banishment of the Tyrnaus family, and the
establishment of a Republican government?"
Reist turned full upon him, and his eyes were like the eyes of an
angry lion.
"Maurice of Tyrnaus," he said, "was one of the degenerates of a noble
race. I say no more against one whom, if alive, I should still
acknowledge as my King."
Hassen shrugged his shoulders.
"You are a long way from Theos, Count," he remarked, pointedly. "You
took, I presume, the oath of allegiance to the Republic when it was
formed?"
"That is a false saying," Reist answered, scornfully. "I neither took
the oath nor recognized the government."
"Yet they allowed you to remain in the capital city?" Hassen asked.
"There was no one," Reist answered, "who would have dared to bid me
depart. Of the ancient nobility of Theos we alone remain, alas, close
dwellers in our native country. Else Metzger had been hung in the
market-place with short shrift--he a merchant, a trafficker in coin,
who dared to sit in the ancient Council House of Theos and weave his
cursed treason. And listen, sir," he continued, turning abruptly upon
Hassen. "You would know whence sprang that evil weed of a Republic! I
will tell you. It was the work of foreign spies working with foreign
gold amongst the outcasts and scum of Theos. It was not the choice of
the people. It was the word of sedition, of cunning bribery, the vile
underhand efforts of foreign politicians seeking to weaken by
treachery a country they dared not, small though it is, provoke to
battle."
There followed a strange, tense silence. No one thought of
interruption. They held their breath and waited. The conversation
which had started harmlessly enough had become a duel. The grim shadow
of tragedy seemed suddenly to have stalked in amongst them. Hassen
sprang to his feet, livid, his coal-black eyes on fire. Reist was
facing him, his head thrown back, passionate, contemptuous, bitter.
With a swift, threatening gesture he threw out his arm towards his
adversary.
"Hassen Bey," he said, "my private enemies I meet under the roof of my
friends, and courtesy demands that I hold my peace and pass on. The
enemies of my country I denounce at all times, and in all places. You
are a Turkish spy, one of those of whom I have been speaking, who
sought the hospitality of Theos only to scatter gold amongst the
common people to plot and intrigue for your master, the Sultan. Oh, I
know that you are also a soldier and a brave man, for I have met you
face to face in battle, and may God grant that I do so again. Yet you
are a spy and a treacherous rogue, and I am very thankful that I have
come here to tell you so, and to order you to leave this roof."
Hassen had recovered himself. He turned to Erlito.
"The Duke of Reist," he said, quietly, "is a friend of yours. Perhaps
it is better that I should go. I regret very much to have been the
passive cause of such an outbreak. Miss Van Decht, you will accept my
apologies."
Erlito was very grave. He did not seem to see the hand which Hassen
held out to him.
"Hassen," he said, "we have been friends, but I do not understand
these things which the Duke of Reist has said of you. You have spoken
of yourself as a Frenchman--of Theos or of Turkey I have heard
nothing. Have you any explanation to offer?"
Hassen shrugged his shoulders lightly.
"My dear Erlito," he said, "the Duke of Reist is an honest man,
but--he will forgive me--he is an anachronism. He should have lived
two centuries ago--or, better still, he would have made an excellent
crusader. The necessities of modern diplomacy are unknown to him. He
has passed all his days in a semi-civilized country. He is not a
fitting judge of the things which happen to-day."
A sudden lightning flashed in Erlito's blue eyes. He drew himself to
his full height, and pointed towards the door.
"That semi-civilized country, sir, is mine also, and if you are one of
those who have sought to corrupt it, I beg that you will leave this
room while you may with a whole skin. At once, sir!"
The imperturbability of the man was clearly disturbed. He looked at
Erlito in amazement. The face of Nicholas of Reist shone with joy.
"Your country?" Hassen repeated, incredulously. "What have you to do
with Theos?"
Erlito hesitated--not so Reist. He stepped forward, and the leaping
firelight threw a strange glow upon his pale, mobile features.
"After all," he cried to Hassen, "it seems that you are but a poor
fool of a conspirator. I will do you an honour which you ill deserve.
I will present you to his Royal Highness, Prince Ughtred, of Tyrnaus."
"Gracious!"
The single monosyllable--from Sara Van Decht--was the only speech
which broke the amazed silence. She was leaning forward in her chair,
gazing eagerly at the three men, her beautiful eyes eloquent with
excitement--a crown of fire gleaming in her brown-gold hair. No one
noticed her. Hassen, who had regained his composure, but in whose face
was written a deep self-disgust, moved towards the door. With his
fingers upon the handle he paused and looked back at the little group.
"You are both," he said, in a low tone, "a little hard upon a soldier,
and a servant of the Sultan, with whom obedience is forced to become
an instinct. Of that--no more. But there is one thing which you may
call me as often and as thoroughly as you will, for it is as true as
the Koran, that I am an absolute--a blind fool!"
He passed out, and they heard him singing for the lift. Sara Van Decht
looked up at Brand, who was sitting next to her. Her half-whispered
remark dissolved the situation.
"I suppose that we are all awake," she said. "I feel as though I
wanted to pinch myself to be sure of it."