With these ominous words ringing in her ears, Georgia entered the litter, and returned to the Mission in a somewhat perturbed state of mind. It seemed, however, that there was nothing going on that need excite her alarm. The Grand Vizier and his attendants had just brought the treaty to be ratified, and Georgia caught a glimpse of the assemblage as she passed through into the inner courtyard with Rahah. Had she guessed what was about to happen in the Durbar-hall, nothing would have induced her to leave the outer court. On the table before Sir Dugald lay the treaty, written out with the greatest care and delicacy on a huge sheet of parchment, and displaying the most wonderful flourishes and other decorations at the beginning of every clause. At the other side of the table stood Fath-ud-Din, his attendants crowding behind him and peering eagerly over his shoulder to watch Sir Dugald. The Envoy had taken the pen from the hand of Fitz, and was glancing down the parchment for the exact place at which he was to affix his signature. To all appearance the treaty was the same that had been read over to him the day before, and yet some suspicion entered his mind, prompted by his instinctive caution. He would not trust to his own slight knowledge of the Ethiopian language, but called Kustendjian forward. “Be so good as to summarise that for me,” he said, laying his finger on the clause which concerned the appointment of a British Resident, with jurisdiction over British subjects in Ethiopia, who should take up his abode at Iskandarbagh. The Armenian’s eyes grew wide as he advanced and scanned the passage pointed out by Sir Dugald. “The Resident is to have no power to decide any cause in dispute between a British subject and an Ethiopian, nor between two British subjects when the question concerns property or other interests situated in Ethiopia, your Excellency,” he said, in a low voice. “And that,” said Sir Dugald, indicating the clause by which British goods, with the exception of munitions of war and ardent spirits, were to be allowed entrance into Ethiopia upon payment of duties not exceeding a certain percentage of the value, which were to be imposed by the King and approved by England. “The minimum duty is to be a hundred per cent _ad valorem_, and there is no proviso as to the approval of her Majesty’s Government, your Excellency. Every one of the clauses has had additions or omissions made in it, which render it absolutely useless for all practical purposes.” “Thank you, Mr Kustendjian.” Sir Dugald laid down the pen deliberately, and took up the treaty. The Ethiopians present had watched his actions with eager interest, but could read nothing from his face. Now, however, he seemed to their guilty consciences to rise and tower above them (under normal circumstances he was under middle height), as he tore the tough parchment across and across, and flung the fragments over the table to Fath-ud-Din.