In stately procession the Consuls and their guards marched up from the beach to the tower, the watchers at Ahmed Pasha looking on with angry eyes, and the besieged came forth to meet them with extravagant demonstrations of rejoicing. There was some delay while the garrison collected their personal property, and exhibited in ocular evidence the straits to which they had been reduced, and in the meantime a discussion of some sort seemed to be going on among the highly ornamented group of diplomatists outside the tower. To Wylie, watching through his glass, it appeared that Sir Frank was urging the other Consuls to accompany him on his mission of conciliation to Ahmed Pasha, but that the unamiable attitude of the insurgents, as observed through the binoculars of the naval auxiliaries, inclined his colleagues to consider that a dragoman was the best person to go, while the senior dragoman present gave it as his honest opinion that the task was not one on which any man below the rank of Consul ought to be sent. The difficulty was evidently solved at last by Sir Frank’s undertaking the duty himself, amid the protests of the other Consuls, for, accompanied by a portion of his guard, he began to cross the rough slope which lay between Segreti and Ahmed Pasha. Wylie went out to meet him, but the stout-hearted old diplomatist declined to regard him as a suitable object for conciliation. Waving the intruder aside, Sir Frank advanced to within fifty feet of the village, and addressed himself to the scowling occupants of the roofs. His principle was evidently to use the knife before applying the plaster.
“The Powers have effected the relief of Segreti on the score of humanity alone,” he informed his audience, in sharp explosive sentences. “At the same time, they will not allow you to derive any advantage from it. The tower is mined, and will be blown up with the Roumi flag flying.”
A howl of rage answered him, and there was a sudden movement among the men on the roofs. He took no notice of either, but when Wylie, alarmed lest the bolder spirits should be rushing for their rifles, would have gone to prevent them, he detained him by an imperious gesture.
“We know quite well that the end of your resources is in sight,” he went on. “You must now realise that the foreign adventurers who have led you astray can give you no help. Through the clemency of his Majesty the Grand Seignior, safety is still open to you. On giving up your arms and your leaders, you will be permitted to return to your homes.”
“As marked men!” cried Prince Romanos, standing forth as spokesman. “And the rights for which we have fought—the Constitution—what of them?”
“The Powers will do their best to secure the execution of the reforms already granted. They promise nothing more.”
“Then we stand fast. Am I right?” cried Prince Romanos, appealing to the rest, and a shout of approval answered him. “We lay down our arms when the concessions we have already demanded are granted by the Grand Seignior and guaranteed by the Powers, and not till then!” he shouted to Sir Frank.
“I can only regret your decision,” was the reply, as the Consul-General turned to depart, careless of the angry shouts which pursued him from the walls. Wylie stepped forward to accompany him out of range, but again Sir Frank waved him back. “I do not require the protection of a renegade Englishman,” he said, and Wylie bowed and remained.
“Glafko! Glafko!” Prince Romanos was calling to him loudly. “Come at once. They have overpowered the guard and got at the rifles. And some of them are already on the way to the tower.”