“Gentlemen,” he said, “my friend Domiloff will be with us doubtless before this meeting is dissolved. In the meantime, I will, with your permission, lay before you the terms on which my august master the Czar is willing to stay the hand of Turkey, by force if necessary, and guarantee your independence.”
Some heavy curtains at the end of the room were suddenly thrown aside. The King stood there, and by his side Marie of Reist.
“My arrival, it would appear, is opportune,” the King said, grimly. “Address yourself to me, and proceed, Monsieur Gourdolis.”
CHAPTER XLIX
One by one the members of the Council staggered to their feet. The coming of the King was like a bombshell thrown amongst them. They were met in secret conclave, a proceeding to the last degree unconstitutional. They were receiving, too, an emissary from a foreign country which amounted to high treason. Doxis was perhaps the first to recover himself.
“Your Majesty’s coming is unexpected,” he said. “I trust that there is no ill news from the seat of war.”
“There is no news, save good news,” the King answered, having handed a chair to Marie. “Yesterday’s battle you all know about. I will tell you the prospects later. Meanwhile, I see that you have a stranger here. What has Monsieur Gourdolis to say to us?”
Gourdolis rose slowly to his feet. He was a man of resource, a shrewd and ready diplomatist. Already he was scheming how to turn to his own advantage the King’s unexpected presence. He played a bold card.