“It is indisputable!”
“At an hotel?”
“You are,” Domiloff declared, “my honoured guest.”
“Is it part of your diplomacy to starve me?” Brand asked, coolly, “or may I have some breakfast?”
Domiloff touched the bell.
“My dear Prince!” he exclaimed, deprecatingly.
A servant entered with a tray—cold meats and a flask of wine. Outside the window a sentry walked up and down. Brand eyed him thoughtfully.
“I think that I should like a stroll,” he remarked. “My head is still heavy.”
Domiloff advanced, and laid his hand upon his shoulder.
“My dear Prince,” he said, “I beg that for the present you will not think of it. It is of the utmost importance that your presence upon the soil of Theos should not be suspected. I have a special train waiting to take you to the capital. Until we start it will be far better, believe me, that you do not attempt to leave this room.”