“Domiloff,” he said, “it is farewell. I do not come again. Our compact is at an end. You are getting old, Domiloff. The days at Stamboul are long past. ‘He got away.’ A change like this in a man is marvellous.”
Domiloff stood before the door. He was very pale, and his face was not pleasant to look upon.
“Stay where you are, Hassen,” he said. “You have come here, it seems, to reproach me for inaction, for not having helped you sufficiently from within the city. Well, it is possible that I have relied too much upon the result of your coming into touch with the Thetians. I expected your army here before this, Hassen. However, you did not come here only to complain, eh? You have a suggestion perhaps. Well, let me hear it. As for the Englishman, I will risk the anger of Marie of Reist. He shall not write another letter. Now what beyond that? I am ready. The city is full of my agents. If only I were to give the word, Hassen, you would never leave the city alive.”
Hassen laughed scornfully.
“I have passed through the Thetian lines,” he said, “and made my way alone here, so it is not likely that death could come nearer to me than this. But, Domiloff, you talk now more like a man. I will admit that what you said is truth. I have come here with a scheme in mind, and it is a good scheme.”
“Then waste no more time,” Domiloff said, quickly, “go on.”
“There is in it,” Hassen said, “a personal element. In truth my master has disappointed me in this campaign. I should have been given the entire command, and instead I have only a corps. Now I am stationed, as you know, not at Solika, but at Althea. Therefore, it is my men whom I would like to bring into Theos whilst Mellet Pascha, who has my place, is still held back at Solika.”
Domiloff nodded.
“That is reasonable,” he said, “but the Althea passes are impregnable. I do not think that they can be taken by assault at all.”
“Nor I,” Hassen answered, dryly. “I want a safe conduct through them.”