‘Then he knows,’ said Barizy, eagerly, ‘whether the young English prince was murdered intentionally or by hazard.’
‘A—h,’ said Pasqualigo, whom not the slightest rumour of the affair had yet reached, ‘that is a great question.’
‘But everything depends upon it,’ said Barizy. ‘If he was killed accidentally, there will be negotiations, but the business will be compromised; the English want Cyprus, and they will take it as compensation. If it is an affair of malice prepense, there will be war, for the laws of England require war if blood royal be spilt.’
The Consul Pasqualigo looked very grave; then, withdrawing his lips for a moment from his amber mouthpiece, he observed, ‘It is a crisis.’
‘It will be a crisis,’ said Barizy of the Tower, excited by finding his rival a listener, ‘but not for a long time. The crisis has not commenced. The first question is: to whom does the desert belong; to the Porte, or to the Viceroy?’
‘It depends upon what part of the desert is in question,’ said Pasqualigo.
‘Of course the part where it took place. I say the Arabian desert belongs to the Viceroy; my cousin, Barizy of the Gate, says “No, it belongs to the Porte.” Raphael Tafna says it belongs to neither. The Bedouins are independent.’
‘But they are not recognised,’ said the Consul Pasqualigo. ‘Without a diplomatic existence, they are nullities. England will hold all the recognise powers in the vicinity responsible. You will see! The murder of an English prince, under such circumstances too, will not pass unavenged. The whole of the Turkish garrison of the city will march out directly into the desert.’
‘The Arabs care shroff for your Turkish garrison of the city,’ said Barizy, with great derision.
‘They are eight hundred strong,’ said Pasqualigo.