'Nothing, my lord. You will remember I am here to-night entirely at your request.'
Sagan's laugh was not altogether a pleasant one.
'Put it how you like, Monsieur, I should not have been here either but for you!'
Elmur stood with folded arms. To stoop to recriminations before the common enemy! The cause was lost for the moment, but there was the future, and in that future the fool who figured as his ally should become his slave! Germany had, after all, gained something in gaining the knowledge of British designs afoot.
'Then his Highness refuses to see me, although he can give audience to—you?' the Count at length broke the silence.
'On the contrary, my lord, he looks forward to the pleasure of meeting you to-morrow. That is the message with which I am charged. Captain Rallywood, his Highness wishes Lieutenant Unziar to attend him.'
Count Simon made a sign to his men, and a moment later Unziar stalked into the room, maddened by the outrage put upon him.
'My sword, Count Sagan,' he said huskily.
'Your sword! Is it lost?' returned the Count with an angry sneer. 'In my day it was not the custom of the guard to lose their swords!'
'When I saw it last it was sticking in your cheek, my lord,' said the young man with a studied insolence, pointing to a bleeding cut on the Count's face.