ha," he said, "will you wait for a moment. A dispatch
has arrived concerning which the King will desire to see you at once."

Effenden Pascha smiled, and took a chair in the ante-room beyond. He
smoked a cigarette thoughtfully, and drank the coffee which a groom of
the chambers hastened to bring him. In ten minutes Reist reappeared.

"Will you come with me?" he said.

Effenden Pascha threw down his cigarette, and followed.

The King had moved into the Council Chamber, and sat at the table with
an open telegraph dispatch before him. Baron Doxis, the President of
the House of Laws, was on one side of him, and Brand on the other.
Effenden Pascha knew very well what was coming. The King looked at
him, and there was an added sense of power in the grave, soldierly
face.

"Effenden Pascha, we too have received a telegram from Bekal. Its
contents are briefly these. Bekal, an unfortified village of Theos,
was last night attacked by a large armed body of Turks, who proceeded
to rob, murder, and outrage in the most barbarous fashion. My regard,
however, for the safety of my frontier towns has led me lately to
station bodies of mounted troops within signalling distance of Bekal,
and my dispatch informs me that in the fight which followed your
troops were driven across the frontier with heavy losses. You will
see, Effenden Pascha, that my report and yours differ."

The Turk smiled incredulously. The reports most certainly did differ.

"Now," the King continued, "if your report is the true one, I will
hold myself responsible for all the evil that has been done. If, on
the other hand, mine is true, I shall at once formulate demands which
I shall request you to lay before your august master. Now, I invite
you, in order that the truth may be placed beyond doubt, to accompany
an envoy from this court to Bekal by special train to-day, and there
agree as to what has really happened."

Effenden Pascha shrugged his shoulders.

"I must await the instructions of my master, your Majesty," he
answered, calmly.

"You decline his Majesty's proposal, then?" Reist asked quietly.

The Turk was silent. The meddlesome Englishman's pen was in the ink.
His presence was disastrous.

"I do not decline--no," he answered. "I await only a dispatch from
Constantinople. I fear that your intelligence department is at fault.
There has been no foray on the part of the Turks. My master desires
peace above all things."

Ughtred smiled.

"You say th