The Traitors. E. Phillips Oppenheim
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“It is my four-leaved clover,” she said. “See, I shall give it to you. May it bring you good fortune. Floreat Theos!”
He held it in his palm—a dainty ornament set with diamonds and quaintly shaped.
“Do you mean it?” he asked.
“Why, of course,” she answered. “If it is not exactly a coronation present, it will at least help to remind you—of the days before you were a King.”
“I need no trinkets to remind me of some things,” he answered, quietly, “but Theos will give me nothing which I shall prize more than this. I shall keep it, too, as a pledge of your promise. You will come to Theos?”
“Yes, I will come,” she answered.
Nicholas of Reist was by their side, dark, almost saturnine in his black evening clothes and tie. His presence had a chilling effect upon them both. Sara rose to her feet.
“Will you see if you can find father?” she said to Ughtred. “He was talking to some Americans who went into the restaurant.”
He moved away. She turned quickly to Reist.
“I wanted to ask you,” she said. “You live in Theos, and you can give me an idea. What is there that I can send Prince Ughtred for a coronation present?”
“That is a very difficult question to answer,” Reist said. “Will you not be a little more explicit? A steam yacht would be a present, so would a cigarette-case.”
She nodded quickly.
“Yes! I should have explained. Money is of no consequence at all. I had thought of a team of horses and a coach.”
He was suddenly serious. He eyed the girl with a new curiosity. She then was one of the daughters of this new world before whose golden key every Court in Europe had yielded. She was of striking appearance, perhaps beautiful, instinctively well bred. She might be destined to play a part in the affairs of Theos.
“ ‘Money is of no consequence at all,’ ” he repeated, thoughtfully. “We are poor folk in Theos, Miss Van Decht, and we do not often hear such words.”
“Sometimes I think,” she said, “that our wealth is our misfortune. Now you understand, don’t you? Prince Ughtred was very kind to us at Cairo and on the voyage back, and we have seen quite a little of him in London. I should like to give him something really useful. Please suggest something.”
“I will take you at your word then, Miss Van Decht,” he answered. “Send him a Maxim-Nordenfeld gun. If you want to be magnificent, send him a battery.”
She looked at him in amazement.
“Do you mean it?” she exclaimed.
“I do,” he answered. “Prince Ughtred is a very keen soldier, and he is never tired of praising these guns. For the first year or two at the least we shall have troublous times, and a battery of maxims might save all our lives and the throne. Theos has, alas, no money to spend in artillery, though her soldiers are as brave as any in the world.”
“Father and I will see about it to-morrow,” she declared. “Hush! here they come.”
Ughtred was approaching with her father, and watching him it occurred to her for the first time how well his new part in life would become him. He was tall and broad, and he moved with the free, easy dignity of a soldier accustomed to command.
“I have found your father,” he said, “and your carriage is waiting. I thought that if Reist would excuse me for half-an-hour——”
Reist interrupted him at once.
“You must not go away,” he declared, earnestly. “Not for five minutes. Believe me it is necessary.”
“My dear fellow——” Ughtred protested.
“Is it possible,” Reist exclaimed, with some impatience, “that you do not recognize the great misfortune of this evening? I was wrong to allow you to come—to be seen in London with you. Prince Alexis is more than an ordinary ambassador. He is a born diplomatist, a true Russian—he is one of the clique who to-day rule the country. With Hassen’s aid he has, without a doubt, surmised the purport of my visit to you. By this time he is hard at work. Let me tell you that if he can prevent it you will never set foot in Theos. There must be no more delay. Come!”
Sarah held out her hand. Her eyes met his frankly.
“The Duke of Reist must be obeyed,” she said. “I am sure that he is right. Good-bye, Prince Ughtred! You are very fortunate, for you have a great and noble work before you. May you succeed in it. I shall hope and pray for your success.”
A little abruptly she turned away and took her father’s arm. The two men watched them disappear—the little grey-headed man with his ill-cut clothes, and hard, shrewd face, and the tall, graceful girl, whose toilette was irreproachable, and whose carriage and bearing moved even Reist to admiration. They passed down the carpeted way and through the swing-doors. Then Reist touched his companion on the arm.
“It is half-past eleven,” he said. “We are going to catch the twelve o’clock train from Charing Cross.”
CHAPTER VIII
The whistle sounded at last, the train began to glide slowly away from the almost deserted platform. But at the last moment a man came running through the booking-office, and made for one of the compartments. He tugged at the handle, wrenched it open, and was preparing for a flying leap when an inspector seized him. There was an altercation, a violent struggle—the man was left upon the platform. Reist drew a long breath of relief as he settled down in his corner.
“The way these things are managed in England,” he said, “it is excellent.”
Ughtred shrugged his shoulders. Reist had been dumb for the last half-hour, and he was puzzled.
“Will you tell me now,” he asked, “the meaning of it all?”
“The meaning of it all is—Hassen!” Reist answered. “How long have you known him?”
“We fought together in Abyssinia,” Ughtred answered, “and I found him always a capital soldier and a pleasant companion.”
“Did you ever ask him where he learnt his