'An English plot, by Heaven!'
But Rallywood was quicker still. A sharp knock on the Count's wrist sent the bullet into the ceiling.
'Have a care, my lord,' Counsellor said authoritatively. 'You cannot do as you will even in this lonely and remote room in your lonely Castle of Sagan, since England and—' with a bow towards Elmur—'Germany are looking on.'
Sagan still threatened Counsellor with the revolver.
'Can you see any reason why I should not kill you as a traitor to my country at this moment, Major Counsellor?' he shouted.
'Only one, my lord. Russia also, in the person of M. Blivinski, knows where I am, and is awaiting my return to arrange for our journey to Révonde—which we propose to make in each other's company,' replied Counsellor pointedly.
Sagan burst into his habitual storm of curses.
'Your nation have well been called perfidious, Major Counsellor. A stab in the back——'
'Why no, my lord,' said Counsellor; 'our greatest vice is admittedly that we are always well in front!'
'Come, Baron, have you nothing to say to this?' Sagan asked, ready to spring at his friends in his torment of baffled rage.