“We have withstood a fierce attack,” Reist answered, coldly, “and driven the Turks off with heavy losses. I regret to add, however, that Solika is a hotbed of Russian intrigue, and what we gain in the field we shall doubtless lose through treachery. My force are encamped outside the city, and there are scouts duly posted to warn us of any fresh attack. I desire your answer, Ughtred of Tyrnaus.”
The King’s eyes flashed with anger.
“Be careful, sir,” he exclaimed, “or my answer will be a file of soldiers and the prison.”
There was a brief pause. An angry spot burned on Reist’s cheeks, but he kept silent.
“My answer to you is this, sir,” the King said. “All duties which I owe as a private individual are secondary to those I owe my country. So long as the war lasts I decline your challenge. The day it is over I will meet you under any condition you choose to name. Now go!”
“But——”
“Sir,” the King thundered, “I do not bandy words with my subjects. Go!”
Reist passed out in silence. The panel rolled heavily back. The King was alone! He sank heavily on to his couch and buried his face in his hands.