"Countess," he said, "forgive me. I spoke hastily. Duke of Reist, I appeal to you. This is your house, and I entered it openly and upon a legitimate errand. I remained here as your guest. I demand a safe conduct from it. Order that man to remove his soldiers."
Marie stepped forward.
"Nicholas," she cried, "he is right. We cannot have the Reist house turned into a nest of brigands. Baron Domiloff, these are my apartments. Your presence is an intrusion which I do not choose to tolerate. Be so good as to withdraw and take your men with you."
"My dear lady," he declared, "it is impossible."
A fierce answer trembled upon Marie"s lips, but Nicholas held out his hand.
"Silence, Marie," he said. "Mr. Brand has made an appeal which it is very difficult for me to ignore. He is under my roof, and to some extent he is ent.i.tled to my protection. But there are limits to the obligations even of hospitality. There have been things spoken of in his presence which must not be repeated."
"The safety and welfare of Theos," Domiloff said, solemnly, "must eclipse all other considerations. Mr. Brand came here of his own accord."
Reist turned to Brand.
"Are you prepared," he said, "to keep silence as to all that has transpired since you crossed the threshold of this house? I will be content with your word of honour."
"No!" Brand answered, firmly. "I cannot make any such promise."
Marie turned upon them both with flaming cheeks.
"Let the King know all," she cried. "What does it matter now? This is my house, as well as yours, Nicholas, and I say that Mr. Brand shall leave it when and how he pleases. Baron Domiloff, I order you to withdraw, and take your soldiers with you."
But Domiloff only shook his head.
"Countess," he said, "for your brother"s sake and the sake of Theos I cannot do as you ask. This man"s silence for a few days at least is the one thing necessary to secure our success."
"Then my silence will be the silence of death," Brand answered, fiercely. "If you will not let me pa.s.s peaceably, I shall fight my way as far as I am able. Stand away, Domiloff. You cursed spy."
Marie sprang between them. She pushed Brand back.
"Nicholas," she said, "this is not your affair. It is between Baron Domiloff and myself. You recognize that?"
"Entirely!" he answered.
"Then will you leave it in my hands?" she begged.
He hesitated for a moment, but a glance into her face rea.s.sured him.
"I am content," he said, and left them.
She turned to Domiloff.
"Baron," she said, "if you do not let Mr. Brand pa.s.s unhurt our compact is at an end."
He held up his hands in eager expostulation.
"I wish your friend no harm, Countess," he declared, "but believe me, his reports are doing us every possible injury. Besides, he will carry word of this to the King. It is impossible to let him go. I will withdraw my men if you like, while you reason with him. It is his silence only we require."
She turned to Brand.
"You hear?"
He nodded.
"My silence," he answered, "is not to be bought. The King is my friend, and his cause is mine. Apart from that it is my duty as an honest man to upset the scheming of such rogues as that," he pointed to Domiloff. "In two minutes, Countess, I shall leave this room--dead or alive."
Domiloff was very pale, but he remained calm. Marie left him and placed her hands in Brand"s. She looked up into his face fondly.
"You are quite right," she said. "I honour you for your words."
Then she turned to Domiloff.
"Listen," she said. "You will permit Mr. Brand to pa.s.s uninjured, or I shall go at once to Nicholas, and tell him not only all that I know, but what I suspect. You understand me! I shall tell him--the whole truth. I go also to the King, and I tell him--the whole truth. I go also to the House of Laws, I antic.i.p.ate your proclamation to them, and I announce--the whole truth. These are not empty threats. I swear to you that I will do these things."
Domiloff regarded her thoughtfully. His expression was inscrutable.
"You will not risk the success of all our plans," he said, slowly.
"You will even sacrifice your country that this man may go safely. You are serious? It is in your mind that you are the Countess Marie of Reist, and he--the paid writer in an English newspaper. Forgive me that I speak of this. It is incredible."
"It is nevertheless true," she answered, firmly. "Your answer."
He bowed low.
"Mr. Walter Brand," he said, "is fortunate. He is welcome to depart."
"Wait!"
She crossed the room, and from a cedar box on the mantelshelf drew out a small shining revolver. She stood facing Domiloff.
"My friend," she said, "so I shall remain until Mr. Brand has left the house and waves to me from the street below. And if there is treachery I give you my word that I shall fire. You have seen me use a revolver. You know that this is not play with me."
"Mr. Brand," he repeated, "is fortunate indeed."
CHAPTER XLIII
Once more the beacons flared in a long, lurid line from the mountain-tops, rockets screamed into the night, and away from south of Solika came the heavy roll of guns plainly to be heard in the anxious city. Rumours were plentiful. The Turks were already streaming through the pa.s.ses! A great battle was on hand! Solika had fallen! The streets and squares of Theos were filled with an excited and restless mob, mostly composed of old men, children, and women, with a sprinkling of foreigners. The outdoor _cafes_ were filled, people stood about in little knots together, talking eagerly. Up at the railway station a constant stream of refugees waited patiently for trains to take them northwards.
There were no trams running, or carriages. The Government had subsidized the horses, and most of the men had gone to the front.
All night long gangs of navvies in squads were working at the fortifications by searchlight. From all the country places stores were pouring in.
Towards morning the roar of distant artillery increased, and those who listened keenly fancied that they could hear the sharper rattle of Maxims and machine-guns. Trains began to crawl in from the front full of wounded. From them something of the truth was gathered. The King had made a forced march, himself had crossed the frontier, and fiercely attacked the Turkish army. So far all had gone well. The Turks were falling back, and had already lost two guns.
In the grey dawn Sara hastened to the hospital, which was already almost full. The regular nurses were out at the front, and their places were mostly taken by volunteers--the suggestion having come from Sara herself. Everywhere the news was being eagerly discussed.
Solika was being turned into a military base. At Althea the position had been so strengthened as to be now impregnable. The King was the idol of his army, and the military fever burned fiercely.