“I ask you to hand it to me—to save trouble.”
“Of course I shall hand you nothing.”
“Then I must search you. Resistance is useless.” He glanced significantly at the group of Albanians who stood beside their horses a few yards distant.
“I shall not resist,” said Maurice with a smile. “But you will permit me to make a formal protest.”
“A protest can do no harm,” said the Count, grinning, “Now, if you please.”
The search was concluded in a surprisingly short time. From one pocket the Count removed a revolver, from another a long envelope with the official seal, and addressed to His Majesty’s agent and consul-general at Sofia. He did not attempt to conceal his elation. Breaking the seal, he drew from the envelope the folded paper it contained, opened it, and, after a glance, said:
“Seeing that the game is up, you will no doubt save time by deciphering the despatch.”
“I won’t deprive you of that pleasure,” said Maurice serenely.
The Austrian smiled. Taking a little book from his pocket, he turned quickly over a few pages.
“We are not without resources, Mr. Buckland,” he said. “I have here the key to your Foreign Office cipher.”