"All that," said Von der Doppelbauch. "All that within an hour. It is a splendid defiance. The Kaiser himself has seen it and admired it. 'These,' he said, 'are the words of a man!'"
"Did he say that?" said Abdul, evidently flattered. "And is he too about to hurl himself off his minaret?"
"For the moment, no," replied Von der Doppelbauch sternly.
"Well, well," said Abdul, and to my surprise he began picking up the pen and making ready. "I suppose if I must sign it, I must." Then he marked the paper and sprinkled it with sand. "For one hour? Well, well," he murmured. "Von der Doppelbauch Pasha," he added with dignity, "you are permitted to withdraw. Commend me to your Imperial Master, my brother. Tell him that, when I am gone, he may have Constantinople, provided only"—and a certain slyness appeared in the Sultan's eye—"that he can get it. Farewell."
The Field-Marshal, majestic as ever, gathered up the manifesto, clicked his heels together and withdrew.
As the door closed behind him, I had expected the little Sultan to fall into hopeless collapse.
Not at all. On the contrary, a look of peculiar cheerfulness spread over his features.
He refilled his narghileh and began quietly smoking at it.
"Toomuch," he said, quite cheerfully, "I see there is no hope."
"Alas!" said the secretary.