“It is the nerves, my friend,” Domiloff answered, cheerfully. “You need a good gallop, a little of this stinging air. Well, what we need of you is action, is it not?—and there is danger too.”
“It goes beyond our bargain,” Reist answered, in an agitated tone. “Once I never dreamed that you, Hassen, would pass the threshold of my door and leave it alive. As for such a thing as you ask—oh, I am not Judas enough for that.”
“Nicholas,” his sister said, quickly, “can you not see that it is a great deed. Think how many lives you will save. In years to come every woman of Theos who sees her husband by her side will remember that you were his preserver. Besides, it is too late now for hesitation. We have chosen our side, and we must work for our cause.”
Domiloff nodded.
“The Countess is right,” he said. “Do as we ask, Nicholas of Reist, and in a fortnight’s time there will be no war or sign of war, and the people shall know to whom they owe their deliverance.”
Reist smiled bitterly.
“My people,” he said, “will never overwhelm me with gratitude. You do not know them as I do. A true Thetian would love best the man who led them into the jaws of death to fight for his liberty, even though the fight were in vain, than the man who made all things smooth and happy for him by skulking within four walls and intriguing with such men as you, Domiloff.”
Hassen turned impatiently away.
“My friend,” he said to Domiloff, “we waste our time here. Theos must take its chance. I am not disposed to wait any longer for the Duke of Reist’s answer.”