e
palace--Ughtred, Reist, and Marie, Mr. Van Decht and Sara. A servant
in spotless white livery had silently arranged coffee and liqueur in
strange-looking bottles upon a table already laden with fruit. Below
them were the terraced lawns leading to the river, dotted with dark
fir-trees and flowering shrubs--beyond the red roofs and white fronts
of many villas, in the distance the blue mountains. The King and Sara
Van Decht were sitting side by side. Marie, unusually taciturn, leaned
back in her chair, listening and watching with half-closed eyes.

Ughtred lit a fresh cigarette, and smoked for a moment thoughtfully.

"I can assure you," he said, "that life is, in its way, as complex a
thing here as in the greater cities. The people are very poor, and how
to raise money enough to develop the country and pay our way without
undue taxation is a very serious problem indeed. Then you must not
forget that we live always in the shadow of a great danger."

Sara looked at him inquiringly. He pointed southwards to the
mountains.

"Beyond there," he said, "is Turkey, and Turkey is our eternal enemy.
Even now there are strained relations between us. Night and day our
watchmen guard the passes. There have been rumours lately of an
impending raid upon our frontier villages."

Sara listened with rapt attention.

"How fascinating. It really sounds quite mediaeval."

"We are mediaeval in more ways than one," he continued. "Our standing
army consists of barely one thousand men, but in case of war the whole
of our male population would take up arms. Every man must fight
himself for his home and his native land. If you can spare the time
here we will go to some of the more distant villages, and you will
see the Saturday drill. I am rather proud of my military system."

She looked across at her father.

"He is so restless," she said. "I can never tell how long he will
stand any one place. Just at present he talks as though he were
disposed to settle down here for the rest of his life."

Marie leaned forward. Her face gleamed pale in the twilight, her tone
was almost openly contemptuous.

"Away from the electric cars, and sirens, and all the delights of your
Western cities?"

Sara nodded gravely.

"Yes! Away even from the Paris edition of the _New York Herald_. But
then, my father, you know, is terribly mercenary. I believe he thinks
that there is scope for the capitalist here."

"Your father is quite right then," Ughtred an