d, in front of his tiny army and
watched the Turks closing in around them.

"What is the meaning of it, Brand?" he asked, sadly. "There is
something astir which I cannot understand. See how the people throng
the Square in front of the Reist house, and scarcely even glance this
way. What are they waiting for?"

Brand shook his head.

"The true meaning of it I do not know," he answered, "but there is
treason abroad. I am sure of that, and I am sure that Nicholas of
Reist is concerned in it."

The King bit his lip. If Nicholas of Reist were a traitor, what hope
was there for Theos?

"I do not know these people," he said. "My men are all in the field,
or under arms at the barracks. These are not native Thetians."

"They look to me," Brand said, dryly, "like a horde of Russian Jews
from across the frontier."

"I am going to ride once more through the city," the King said. "Come
with me, Brand."

They left the palace by a side door, and passed cautiously along the
street, the King with his military cloak wrapped closely about him.
All around was a constant muttering. The people talked together
excitedly enough, but without elation. There were no signs that this
was a day of victory. The King's face grew stern.

"I do not know this rabble," he said. "They are not my own people."

"They are the tools of Domiloff," Brand answered. "It is he who is at
the root of all this trouble. It is he who has corrupted Nicholas of
Reist."

They rode across the Square, and the people scattered before them with
muttered imprecations. Brand suddenly turned into a side street and
motioned the King to follow him.

"Our police," he said, "have failed to catch Domiloff. Let us try
ourselves. I believe I know where he may be found."

The King's face lightened, and he touched his horse with the spur. But
Brand hesitated.

"The place is in a bad quarter," he said. "There will be risk."

But Ughtred laughed.

"With a guard," he said, "we should have no chance. You and I alone
will take Domiloff."

CHAPTER XLVIII

The storm had driven away the crowd of loiterers from in front of the
Cafe Metropolitan. The King and Brand stood under one of the small
lime trees which bordered the road, watching the place. The lower
room, unshuttered, and lit with several flaring gas jets, was filled
with a crowd of men drinking and singing songs. From the upper windows
came no sign of life.

"That is where I believe that Domiloff is hidi