“And why do you come to me?” Reist asked.
“Because Baron Domiloff is at present in this house,” Ruttens answered. “My men have surrounded it, and I have come first to you, Duke. I call upon you, as a loyal Thetian, to aid me in making this arrest.”
“What right have you to assume that I should give shelter to Baron Domiloff?” Reist asked, quietly.
“I regret to say that he is known to be in this house,” Ruttens answered. “Further, the fact that you, Duke, were also known to be here when every loyal Thetian is under arms, compelled me to assume that your attitude towards this Russian spy was not inimical.”
Reist started as though struck. Immediately afterwards Ruttens’ attention was attracted by the sound of stealthy footsteps in the further corner of the apartment. He half drew his sword and peered forward.
“Who is that?” he asked. “Duke of Reist, I have spared you the indignity of filling your house with police, but I must call upon you at once to hand over my prisoner. If not I shall summon my men. I have only to——”
He was powerless to utter another syllable. A strong pair of arms were around his neck, and a handkerchief thrust into his mouth. He only looked towards Reist, but the look was such that Reist felt the shameful colour flood his cheeks.
Hassen’s dagger gleamed blue in the twilight, but Reist held out his hand.
“Listen,” he said, “bind and gag him, and then escape by the western entrance. But no violence. He is an old man.”
Hassen shrugged his shoulders, but Domiloff hastened to assent.