“What do you propose, then?” he asked.
“I will swear upon my honour,” Brand said, “and before witnesses if you desire it, that I will sign the treaty whenever you require it after my accession to the throne.”
Domiloff hesitated, made up his mind to yield, and yielded gracefully.
“It is sufficient,” he declared. “The honour of the House of Tyrnaus has never been questioned. But there is one more promise which I must ask you to add. The Governor of the Customs, in whose house we now are, has acted as a patriot and a wise man in conjunction with me.”
“I understand,” Brand said, with a quiet smile. “He shall be held harmless, so far as I am concerned.”
Domiloff vanished for a moment, and reappeared followed by a soldierly-looking young man in dark blue uniform of decidedly Russian appearance, and an olive-skinned, black-bearded civilian, with shifty eyes and nervous manner. They both bowed low before Brand, who drew himself up to his full height and eyed them scornfully.
“These are your witnesses, Baron?” he asked Domiloff.
Domiloff assented.
“Captain Barka,” he said, “who is in command of the barracks here, is one of the most gallant and faithful officers in the army of Theos. Mr. Omardine is Governor of the Customs, and a civic magistrate.”