Answer came back:
"You have been taken prisoners because you resisted the royal authority and tried to protect a man who stole goods from our regal master. Theft of goods from his majesty's storehouse is punishable with death. Even ambassadors from King Golbai are not above the laws of our realm."
"What is to be our fate?"
"Zet," was the laconic answer. "You will all three be slain by the executioner-general as soon as may be after the great reflector sends its first gleam of day through the kingdom."
That ended the professor's talk with our unseen enemy who, presumably, was the high chief of the forces. It was sufficiently discouraging, although I was reckless enough to ease my feelings with a few expletives on Key 7—the most insolent and defiant that I had learned in Baigol.
"Mr. Munn, Mr. Munn!" cried Quinn in rebuke. "This is no time to express yourself in that key."
"I am not endowed with your magnificent forbearance, professor," said I, "and I had to say something."
"What's it all about, anyway?" asked Meigs.
"We are to die at sunrise, Meigs," I answered roughly, "or as soon after sunrise as the executioner-general may find it convenient."
"I would have spared Mr. Meigs that information," said the professor.