“Your Majesty,” he said, respectfully, “it was painful to me to put forward my master’s propositions to the Council of the House of Laws in your absence, it is still more painful to do so in your presence. I speak, however, to the representatives of a nation whose liberty and whose very existence is threatened, and I offer them—in a word—salvation. That is my excuse for my presence here to-day.”
“What your offer really amounts to is no doubt the Russian yoke instead of the Turkish,” Ughtred remarked, bitterly. “My forefathers have tasted more than once of Muscovite generosity.”
Gourdolis shook his head gravely.
“Your Majesty,” he said, “you wrong my country, and my master. Our demands are very simple, and I lay the terms of them here upon the table. The only conditions upon which I regret to say that my master is immovable is the immediate abdication of your Majesty.”
The King sat with unchanged face.
“In favour of whom?” he asked.
“Nicholas, Duke of Reist!”
“Is the Duke of Reist cognizant of this, and willing to accept the throne?” the King asked.
“He is, your Majesty,” Baron Doxis answered.