“You have spoken like a true man, Doxis,” the King said. “Yet I must remind you that your presence here is akin to treason. What of the oath of loyalty which you swore to me only a few months ago?”
“Your Majesty,” Doxis answered, “I have not broken that oath. I am here only to listen to what these proposals may be. That, I take it, is the position also of my colleagues.”
A murmur of assent. Gourdolis remained standing, his papers in his hands.
“Your Majesty will forgive me if I assert that there is no treason involved in the presence of any one here. I summoned those to meet me whom I knew to be real and true patriots—who would not hesitate at a small thing to secure their country’s freedom.”
The King faced him scornfully.
“We have heard, Monsieur Gourdolis,” he said, “of the freedom of those countries whom your beneficent master has taken under his wing. Councillors, I think more highly of your intelligence than to imagine that you are to be suborned by such clumsy intriguing as this. Freedom is one thing, the yoke of Russia another. I will tell you some of the considerations which Monsieur Gourdolis has presently to propose to you. The custom-houses are to be controlled by Russia. The appointment of all government officials is to be sanctioned by her. Our foreign policy is to be her foreign policy. The army is to be officered by Russians, and Russian is to be taught in the schools. These things are amongst your conditions. Is it not so, Monsieur Gourdolis?”
Gourdolis hesitated, and his chance was gone.
“You have employed spies,” he muttered.
“Not I!” the King answered. “Yet I know your terms as they were proposed to Nicholas of Reist, and it amazes me only that you should have expected men in whose hands remain the destinies of their country to give you even a patient hearing. My Councillors, give this man the answer his insolent mission deserves, and let him be shown across the frontier. We will before long show Europe how we deal with our enemies. The Turks are not yet at the gates of the city.”