The Traitors. E. Phillips Oppenheim

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 soldiering?”

      “Once—yes!”

      “Did he tell you?”

      “I do not think that he did. He told me frankly enough that he had no past—that it was not to be referred to. There were others like that in the campaign, men who had secrets to bury, men who sought forgetfulness, even that forgetfulness which a bullet brings. We were a strange company enough. But the fighting was good.”

      “And since then you have met him again in England?”

      “I met him at a little fencing-academy six months ago, and since then we have fenced together continually. But for your recognition of him I should have written him down as harmless.”

      A spot of colour burned in Reist’s cheek. He ground his heel into the mat.

      “Harmless! He! A Turk! A Russian spy! A double-dealing rogue. Sword in hand I have chased him through the Kurdistan valley all one night, and if I had caught him then Russia would have lost a tool and the Sultan a traitorous soldier. He holds still, although an absentee, a high command in the Turkish army, and all the while he is in the pay of Russia. Prince Alexis knows of my mission to you by now, and if we reach Theos we are lucky, for I do not think that a Tyrnaus upon the throne of Theos would suit Russia at all.”

      “I may seem stupid,” Ughtred said, seriously, “but it is necessary that I should understand these things. Why should Russia object so much to my reinstatement upon the throne of my fathers? Surely of all the nations of Europe one would expect from her the least sympathy with a democratic form of government.”

      “Russia is above all sympathies or antipathies,” Reist answered, bitterly. “She is the most self-centred, the most absolutely selfish nation on earth. The present state of turmoil in Theos is owing largely to the efforts of Muscovite secret agents. Russia desires a weak Theos. She wants to stand behind the government and pull the strings. It is she whom we have most to fear now.”

      Ughtred lit a cigar and leaned back in his corner. He was still in his evening clothes, and he looked doubtfully at the window-panes streaming with rain.

      “Neither Russia nor her agents can interfere with us on neutral soil,” he remarked. “I wish, Reist, that you had let me send for my bag. I shall be a very dilapidated object by the time we reach the frontier.”

      “My wardrobe,” Reist answered, “is at your service immediately we are upon the boat. I am smaller than you, but I have some things which may be useful. Now I will tell you something which will help to explain my haste. When first I saw Hassen and Prince Alexis together I understood that we must change our plans, and I sent for your bag. Your rooms were then being watched front and back. My servant bribed a postman to go to your door and ask for you. He discovered that a gentleman was already in your rooms waiting for you. They are very much in earnest, these people, my Prince. It will need all our wit to reach Theos.”

      “We will reach it, though,” Ughtred said, softly. “We are on our guard, and there can be no means of forcibly detaining us. In a quarter of an hour we shall be at Dover.”

      Reist nodded. He was examining the chambers of a revolver which he had drawn from the pocket of a loose ulster.

      “Let us remember,” he said, “to avoid all strangers and to speak to no one unless compelled. We know nothing of Theos. We are returning to Budapesth, and, Prince Ughtred, there is a revolver in the pocket of your coat also, not for use but for show. We must not be led into a disturbance with any one. Mind, it is the policy of every one to detain us if once the object of our journey is known. In Germany we shall not be safe, in Austria every moment will be perilous. But once across the frontier nothing will avail. I had news from Theos this morning. The people are on fire for your coming.”

      The train slackened speed. The lights of Dover flashed out on either side. They drew up at the town station and waited there for some minutes. Reist let down the window and addressed a porter.

      “Why do we not go on to the harbour?” he asked. “We are already late.”

      “There is a special coming in just behind you, sir,” the man answered. “We shall send you both along together.”

      Reist thanked him and turned to Ughtred with a little laugh.

      “So we are to have a travelling companion,” he remarked, dryly. “Our friends are not to be caught asleep. We must watch for the occupant of this special train. We shall know then against whom we have to be upon our guard.”

      They moved slowly on again. Behind them was an engine and a single carriage. Reist let down both windows, and a fresh salt wind blew in upon their faces. In a few moments they were at the landing-stage.

      Reist leaped lightly out, and Ughtred followed him. Opposite was the gangway leading to the steamer, through which a little crowd of passengers were already elbowing their way. They lingered on its outskirts and watched the single carriage drawn by the second engine. It drew up within a few feet of them, and a tall, fair young man handed out his portmanteau to one of the porters and leisurely descended on to the platform. Ughtred recognized him with a little exclamation of surprise.

      “Why, it’s Brand!”

      He would have moved forward but for Reist’s restraining arm.

      “Wait! Who is he?”

      “A newspaper man,” Ughtred answered. “An honest fellow and a friend. I will answer for him.”

      “He was at your rooms with Hassen,” Reist said, quickly. “I would trust no one whom I had seen with that man. Let him pass. We will follow him on board.”

      But it was too late. Brand possessed the quick, searching gaze of a journalist, and already, with a little start of surprise, he had recognized them.

      “Erlito,” he exclaimed. “What luck!”

      Erlito shook hands with him, laughing. They turned towards the boat together.

      “Have you become a millionaire, my friend,” he asked, “that you must travel in special trains?”

      Brand shook his head.

      “Personally,” he remarked, “I am in my usual lamentable state of impecuniosity. Nevertheless, for the moment I am representing wealth illimitable. That is to say, I am in harness again.”

      Reist looked askance at them both. He did not understand. Ughtred was suddenly grave.

      “I must ask you where you are going,” he said. “There is no rumour of war, is there?”

      Brand hesitated.

      “Speaking broadly,” he answered, “I have no right to tell you. But the circumstances of our meeting are peculiar. To tell you the truth, I am bound for Theos.”

      Reist’s face was dark with anger—Ughtred’s blank with amazement. Brand hastened to explain.

      “The Duke of Reist,” he said, “probably does not understand my position. I am a special correspondent to the Daily Courier. They send me at a moment’s notice to any place where interesting events are likely to happen. Our chief has been studying the aspect of things in Theos, and half-an-hour ago I had my route. It was the same, Erlito, when I travelled with you to Abyssinia!”

      Ughtred nodded thoughtfully.

      “That is true,” he remarked. “Reist, I am sure that we can trust Mr. Brand. He is not in league with any of those who would hinder us upon our journey.”

      “That may be so,” Reist answered, “but he knows too much for our safety.