“Well, sir?” he said to the officer. “In the morning I will seek an audience of his Majesty.”
“I regret, sir,” the officer answered, “that my orders allow me no latitude whatever. A special train is waiting, and my instructions are to escort you to the frontier.”
Domiloff drew the Turk on one side.
“Listen,” he said, “this is a bold stroke. I half expected it. Ughtred of Tyrnaus has courage at least. I go straight to St. Petersburg. I will give pledges of what I have promised to your Minister there.”
Effenden Pascha bowed. He was most uncomfortable, but there was a certain pleasure in witnessing the discomfiture of the wily Russian.
“I shall await your news,” he answered.
Domiloff and his escort departed. Effenden Pascha at once undressed, sent for his physician and sought his bed. Before morning Theos knew of the sudden attack of malignant fever which had most unfortunately laid hold of him at the moment of starting to attend the reception at the palace.