"But he can't resist longer," interjected another. "The Austrian invasion has stirred the country up from one end to the other. The army clamours for war. Officers, who have been known to favour the Austrian cause, have been forcibly ejected. There is not a man left in Ironia to back the King. He must give in."
"Look at him," said Vanilis. "There he stands, like a lion at bay; see the poise of his head, the set of the lips, the brooding light in the eyes. Alexander would stand fast if the whole world took sides against him; he would fight single-handed against the hosts of the Archangel. It is as pitiable as it is strange that such determination, such grand devotion, should have found its vent only in upholding a tradition!"
"Still more strange that the Austrians should have committed this open act of war," whispered a third. "It was rumoured that Miridoff had a carefully concocted scheme that would inevitably result in plunging us into war with the Russians. Then, like a bolt from the blue, comes this mad exploit of the Austrians. And, strangest of all, Miridoff himself has disappeared."
"It can only be understood when it is explained that it occurred in the mountains," said a fourth. "Anything can happen there. Take Larescu led the force which drove the Austrians back over the Bhura. Mark my word, Larescu is at the bottom of this. And, what is more, I am convinced that Miridoff has been killed."
"And not too soon!" A murmured chorus of assent ran around the board. Vanilis, after a pause, went on, speaking in a low tone: "It is strange that Peter has not returned. He was to have been with us. You all heard the rumour that an attempt would be made to assassinate him on his way back. It cannot be that——"
He paused. There was no need to finish the sentence, for the faces of all the company advertised the fact that the same fear had entered the mind of each man there. It was a disquieting thought; for all men recognised now that the strong hand of Prince Peter was needed at the helm.
"Gentlemen!"
The King had faced about. Slowly, with white, set face and dignified stride, His Majesty walked back to the head of the table. He glanced coldly about the board.
"You have demanded that we sign this monstrous paper," he said, his voice hard. "An ungrateful country clamours for war. Our word has been pledged that Ironia shall not join in the war against the German empires. That word must stand. Sirs, we refuse absolutely to sign this iniquitous declaration!"
"Recollect what this refusal means, sire," urged Vanilis. "The army is determined. Even the household guards have joined in the clamour. Sire, your life might even be placed in jeopardy?"