“Don’t talk rubbish,” he exclaimed. “‘Must be discontinued,’ indeed! Why, I consider your objection to them the highest compliment which I could possibly receive. As if anything which you could say would make me alter my views.”
Domiloff smiled. It was a very faint, but a very evil smile.
“It is not,” he protested, “what I might say, but what I might do. I take it for granted that either the Duke of Reist or the Countess has spoken with you on this matter, and I will not therefore waste my breath. It is sufficient to tell you this! Your present attitude is harmful to what we consider the best interests of Theos. You must either undertake to send no more cables or remain here as our prisoner.”
Brand glanced towards the Countess, and in his eyes there was a merciless inquisitive light.
“So I am in a nest of conspirators,” he remarked, dryly. “There is no longer any doubt about it. I do not know, Baron Domiloff, what magic you use to pervert honest men, but your success is certainly astounding. Now let me pass.”
With a quick movement his revolver flashed out, and Domiloff was covered. Perfectly self-possessed, the Russian bowed, and stood away from the door, but Brand reached it only to be confronted by half-a-dozen naked sabres. The landing was held by a small company of Russian soldiers.
“For the protection of the Russian Embassy,” Baron Domiloff remarked, sardonically. “Now, Mr. Brand, will you put your revolver away, and listen to reason?”
Brand turned to Marie. He was white with rage.
“Countess,” he demanded. “I entered this room at your invitation. Was this arranged for? Is this a trap of your setting?”
A little cry of pain broke from her lips. She recovered herself almost immediately.