“No. I have been treated too infamously. I prefer to put the matter in the hands of the British authorities,” I answered. “All Europe shall know how foreigners are treated in Warsaw.”
A glance from the General approved my reply.
“You can write to your Consul, then.” We both understood that this was merely intended to gain delay, and we wasted some time in pretended difficulty about phrasing the letter, while a conversation continued over the wire which clearly showed the man at the other end was in trouble.
“That’s enough, Bob,” said the General presently. “You can tell him all when he comes.”
“Thank Heaven,” breathed the governor with a sigh of relief as the receiver was hung up again. “One moment, General. The Colonel is sending an order for Mr. Anstruther’s release upon your giving me your assurance to be responsible for him.”
“Just in time,” exclaimed my old friend, curtly and ungraciously, as he tore up the paper, on which, by-the-bye, I had not written a line. “And about that infernal knouting?”
“The affair is now out of my hands;” and the governor gave another sigh of relief.
Half an hour later the order arrived, and we left the prison together.
CHAPTER XVII
“DO YOU LOVE VOLNA DRAKONA?”
THE next day I did nothing except fit myself out with some new clothes, and speculate about my future course.