“It is all—delightful,” Sara declared. “Only I wonder that you find it possible to take life seriously here.”
They were sitting out on the great stone balcony behind the palace—Ughtred, Reist, and Marie, Mr. Van Decht and Sara. A servant in spotless white livery had silently arranged coffee and liqueur in strange-looking bottles upon a table already laden with fruit. Below them were the terraced lawns leading to the river, dotted with dark fir-trees and flowering shrubs—beyond the red roofs and white fronts of many villas, in the distance the blue mountains. The King and Sara Van Decht were sitting side by side. Marie, unusually taciturn, leaned back in her chair, listening and watching with half-closed eyes.
Ughtred lit a fresh cigarette, and smoked for a moment thoughtfully.
“I can assure you,” he said, “that life is, in its way, as complex a thing here as in the greater cities. The people are very poor, and how to raise money enough to develop the country and pay our way without undue taxation is a very serious problem indeed. Then you must not forget that we live always in the shadow of a great danger.”
Sara looked at him inquiringly. He pointed southwards to the mountains.
“Beyond there,” he said, “is Turkey, and Turkey is our eternal enemy. Even now there are strained relations between us. Night and day our watchmen guard the passes. There have been rumours lately of an impending raid upon our frontier villages.”
Sara listened with rapt attention.
“How fascinating. It really sounds quite mediæval.”
“We are mediæval in more ways than one,” he continued. “Our standing army consists of barely one thousand men, but in case of war the whole of our male population would take up arms. Every man must fight himself for his home and his native land. If you can spare the time here we will go to some of the more distant villages, and you will see the Saturday drill. I am rather proud of my military system.”
She looked across at her father.