CHAPTER XXX
All night long the war-beacons of Theos reddened the sky and the thunder of artillery woke strange echoes amongst the mountains. There were three passes only through which the Turks could force their way into the fertile plain which stretched from Theos southwards, and each one, to their surprise, was found well guarded and fortified. A simultaneous advance was repulsed with heavy loss. At Solika only, on the far east, where the veteran General Kolashin was in command, the first position was carried, but this temporary success was counterbalanced by the immense losses inflicted on the advancing columns from the second and more secure line of fortifications. Across the plain a light railway from Theos all night long brought reinforcements and stores to the different positions. Ughtred himself, by means of an engine and fast horses, visited before daybreak the three points of attack. He was present and himself directed the successful resistance at Solika. He returned to Theos at daybreak hopeful, and even with a certain sense of relief that the worst had now come to pass.
Still in his uniform, stained with blood and dust, the King sat at a small writing-table in his retiring-room reading the day’s letters and telegrams. Already he had been busy with tongue and pen. His appeal for intervention, couched in dignified and measured terms, had been written, signed, and dispatched by special messenger to England, France, and Germany. For Ughtred had a very keen sense of proportion. Courageous though he was, and confident in the bravery of his people, he knew that his resistance unaided could only be a matter of time.
Hiram Van Decht, now a privileged person at the palace, came in to him as he sat there.
“I guess you don’t want to be bothered just now,” he remarked, apologetically, “but Sara’s bound to know how things have gone so far.”
Ughtred wheeled round in his chair and welcomed his visitor.
“Cigars at your elbow,” he said. “Help yourself.”
Van Decht disregarded the invitation. He looked steadily at the King. Then he rang the bell.
“You’ll forgive the liberty, I know,” he said, “but I’m going to tell that flunkey of yours to fetch a flask of wine, and see you drink some.”