He looked at his watch. It was three o’clock.
“So Reist and the Prince were left behind,” he murmured. “It was very well arranged. By now they should be on their way to the capital. I must make this last out as long as possible. What a coup!”
He lit another cigarette, and turned the treaty over in his hands. Here he met with a disappointment. There were two copies, one in Russian, the other in the Thetian language. He could not read either. After a few moments’ deliberation he rang the bell.
Domiloff hurried in, expectantly.
“You are ready for me?” he asked. “You have read our proposals? You will perhaps now be disposed to admit the generosity of my master?”
Brand shrugged his shoulders.
“As yet,” he said, coolly, “I am in a position to admit nothing. As a matter of fact, I cannot read this document. I cannot read Russian, and I have forgotten nearly all Thetian. You must have a copy made for me quickly either in French or English.”
Domiloff started. A momentary shade of suspicion darkened his forehead.
“Forgotten your Thetian, Prince?” he exclaimed. “Your native tongue!”