?
Nobody. Certain hanging if he's caught--certain, and almost certain
blowing up if he isn't. But nowadays I have to take orders like the rest
of the world. And here I am.'

The king thought he had never met such detestable geniality. He glanced
at Pestovitch, who nodded almost imperceptibly. It was well, anyhow,
to have a fool to deal with. They might have sent a diplomatist. 'Of
course,' said the king, 'I recognise the overpowering force--and a kind
of logic--in these orders from Brissago.'

'I knew you would,' said the ex-king, with an air of relief, 'and so let
us arrange----'

They arranged with a certain informality. No Balkan aeroplane was to
adventure into the air until the search was concluded, and meanwhile
the fleets of the world government would soar and circle in the sky. The
towns were to be placarded with offers of reward to any one who would
help in the discovery of atomic bombs....

'You will sign that,' said the ex-king.

'Why?'

'To show that we aren't in any way hostile to you.'

Pestovitch nodded 'yes' to his master.

'And then, you see,' said the ex-king in that easy way of his, 'we'll
have a lot of men here, borrow help from your police, and run through
all your things. And then everything will be over. Meanwhile, if I may
be your guest....' When presently Pestovitch was alone with the king
again, he found him in a state of jangling emotions. His spirit was
tossing like a wind-whipped sea. One moment he was exalted and full of
contempt for 'that ass' and his search; the next he was down in a pit of
dread. 'They will find them, Pestovitch, and then he'll hang us.'

'Hang us?'

The king put his long nose into his councillor's face. 'That grinning
brute WANTS to hang us,' he said. 'And hang us he will, if we give him a
shadow of a chance.'

'But all their Modern State Civilisation!'

'Do you think there's any pity in that crew of Godless, Vivisecting
Prigs?' cried this last king of romance. 'Do you think, Pestovitch, they
understand anything of a high ambition or a splendid dream? Do you think
that our gallant and sublime adventure has any appeal to them? Here am
I, the last and greatest and most romantic of the Caesars, and do you
think they will miss the chance of hanging me like a dog if they can,
killing me like a rat in a hole? And that renegade! He who was once an
anointed king! . . .

'I hate that sort of eye that laughs and keeps hard,' said the king.

'I won't sit still he