“And the sooner it is started the sooner the count will be taken,” said Lord Hastings dryly.
“True,” returned the Czar briefly. “If you will leave me now, My Lord, I shall set the wheels in motion at once.”
Lord Hastings bowed, as did Jack. As they would have passed out of the Czar’s presence, the latter exclaimed:
“Pray extend my condolences to your wounded second officer, My Lord. Tell him how sorry I am that he should have been injured in my service.”
“It shall be done, your Majesty,” replied Lord Hastings.
A moment later the commander of the D-17 and his first officer were in the street.
“Where now, sir?” asked Jack.
“To the hospital, to see how Frank is getting on,” replied Lord Hastings.
They turned their steps in that direction.
When Jack had returned to Frank after his futile chase of Count Blowinski, he found his friend trying to sit up, and groaning feebly. Jack hurried to his side and raised Frank’s head to his knee. An examination showed him that the back of his chum’s head had been badly cut by coming in contact with the sharp table edge as he had fallen. The wound was an ugly one and Jack was much concerned.