The Traitors. E. Phillips Oppenheim

his carefully-folded and well-worn dress-coat, and reflected that this was perhaps the last dinner which he would eat in such garments with companions of his own choosing. It was surely a strange turn in the wheel of fortune.

CHAPTER VI

       Table of Contents

      “I think your friend the Duke of Reist is a very interesting man,” Sara Van Decht remarked, “but as a dinner companion he’s just a little depressing. I wonder what father and he will find to talk about.”

      Ughtred laughed. They had just come out from the restaurant, to find the great hall almost full. Reist and Mr. Van Decht were sitting a little apart from them.

      “Reist is a very good fellow,” Ughtred declared, “but just now he is not very much in the humour for gaiety. He is passionately attached to his country, and Theos, alas, is passing through a very anxious time in her history. No, you must not judge him by his demeanour to-night. I had much difficulty in persuading him to accept your father’s invitation.”

      She nodded sympathetically.

      “Has he come over to obtain aid from England?” she asked. “From the papers this morning it seems as though one of the Powers would have to interfere and straighten things out.”

      Ughtred looked down with grave, steadfast eyes into the girl’s upturned face. It was time for him to tell her. How ridiculous it would sound. She would probably laugh at him.

      “Reist came to England,” he said, “to find me.”

      She looked at him in mild wonder.

      “You! But you are no longer interested in Theos, are you?”

      He sighed.

      “I have been an exile for many years,” he said, “and Theos has come to mean little else to me save a beautiful memory. Yet I have never forgotten that she is my native country. I am never likely to forget it.”

      “Do you hope ever to return?” she asked.

      “I hope to be in Theos within a week,” he answered. “I am returning with Reist.”

      She looked up at him startled, but deeply interested.

      “You mean it?” she cried. “Oh, tell me!”

      “You have read of the downfall of the Republic,” he continued. “Reist assures me that the people will never tolerate another. They speak already of a King, and, Miss Van Decht—you must not laugh, please—I am the only surviving member of the royal family of Theos.”

      She gasped.

      “You are to be King!” she exclaimed.

      “The people have sent for me,” he answered, simply. “Of course there are difficulties, and after all it may not come to pass. Still, the crown is mine by right, and I am going to strike a blow for it. We leave for Theos to-morrow.”

      “A King! To-morrow!” she repeated, vaguely.

      She was bereft of words. Ughtred laughed nervously.

      “Miss Van Decht,” he said, “it isn’t altogether a prospect of fairyland. There are many things to be given up. There are many things which a man may possess but a King can only covet. I have become somewhat of a Bohemian in my wanderings, and my freedom is very dear to me. Yet I think that I am doing right in making this attempt. I love Theos, and it will be a joy to fight her battles. I love the old city and the mountains and the wild country. I may not be a patriot like Nicholas of Reist, but the old war music seems to leap and burn in my blood when I think of the Turks creeping nearer and nearer to the frontier, and our ancient city full of foreign spies, gathered together like carrion birds before the massacre. It is intolerable!”

      She was thoughtful and sympathetic.

      “Yes,” she said, softly; “it is right that you should feel like that. Ours is a new country, and there is nothing about her beautiful or historic. Yet, if she were in danger—oh, yes, I understand. You are right to go. May you be successful!”

      A crash of martial music from the band filled the air with ringing melody, and for a moment they sat silent. Ughtred took up his as yet unlit cigarette, and Sara sipped her coffee. Around them were little groups of men and brilliantly-dressed women. The pleasant hum of conversation and light laughter came to them with something of an inspiring ring. Down the broad promenade two men were walking. Sara touched her companion on the arm with her fan.

      “Look!” she whispered.

      Ughtred recognized Hassen with a frown, and his companion with a sudden thrill of interest. They were coming slowly down from the restaurant, talking earnestly together, and by the side of the tall, distinguished-looking man, who was listening to him with so inscrutable a countenance, Hassen appeared almost insignificant. Nicholas of Reist, who had moved from his chair to fetch an evening paper, met them face to face. He would have passed on with a contemptuous glance at Hassen, but that the older man turned and accosted him with grave yet pleasant courtesy.

      “The Duke of Reist is far from home! This is indeed a surprising meeting.”

      Reist started as he recognized the speaker. He cast a single lightning-like glance at Hassen, who lingered by.

      “It is as welcome as surprising,” Reist answered, quietly. “I had promised myself the pleasure of paying my respects at the Embassy to-morrow.”

      “You will not, I trust, let anything interfere with so amiable an intention,” was the suave reply. “You and I should have much to say to each other, Reist. You have a vacant chair here, I see. Will you allow me to take my coffee with you?”

      “I shall be much honoured,” Reist answered, quietly. “As you say, there is much which we might discuss. Will you permit me to introduce you to my friends?”

      The faintest indication of surprise was followed by a murmur of delighted assent. Hassen, perplexed and white with anger, moved away. The two men threaded the little maze of chairs and palm trees and women’s skirts, and reached the corner where Sara and Ughtred sat. Reist gravely performed the introduction.

      “Miss Van Decht, will you allow me to present to you the Prince Alexis of Ollendirk, Miss Van Decht—Mr. Van Decht. Ughtred, I am sure you two should know one another. Prince Alexis of Ollendirk, Ughtred of Tyrnaus.”

      The Prince, who had bowed low and gracefully to Sara, held out his hand frankly to Ughtred.

      “To number Tyrnaus amongst one’s acquaintances,” he said, “has been an honour for centuries. I knew your father, Prince Ughtred. His Majesty was always very good to me. The Gold Star of Theos is amongst the most treasured of my possessions.”

      More coffee was ordered by Mr. Van Decht, and cigarettes. A measured and somewhat curious conversation followed. The Russian Ambassador talked to Sara chiefly. Ughtred seemed to interest him only as a pleasantly-met acquaintance. They exchanged views on Paris and Vienna, and Prince Alexis pleaded eloquently for the charms of his own city. With consummate skill he led the conversation to Theos.

      “The most picturesque country in Europe,” he declared, “to-day I fear the most unfortunate. You see, Mr. Van Decht,” he continued, turning towards him, “it is not always that a great country can exist and be developed upon democratic principles. Theos, under the royal House of Tyrnaus, had at least a recognized place amongst the European States. To-day she has lost it. Of her future—no man can speak with certainty.”

      The Russian leaned back and lit a cigarette. Yet Reist felt that he was being watched by those half-closed, sleepy eyes. He leaned a little forward and lowered his voice.

      “I am a man of Theos, bred and born,” he said, slowly, “and the future of my country is as my own future. I am not in this bastard government, as you doubtless