“Nonsense!” said Sir Dugald, irritably, motioning Stratford aside. “You mean well, gentlemen; but we can’t make fools of ourselves in this way. Look there. You see that there’s nothing but a curtain between the two rooms, and you would hear the slightest scuffle or cry for help. I give you free leave to interfere if you do hear anything of the kind, but pray keep cool.” He went on, following the official, and passed under the heavy curtain which covered the doorway of the inner room. Some minutes of painful suspense ensued, while the three Englishmen and Kustendjian strained their ears to hear what was going on within. Suddenly there came a sound as of the ringing of metal on a marble floor, and Dick sprang to the doorway with a bound, followed by the rest, and tore aside the curtain. He never quite knew what he had expected to see, but it was certainly not the sight which met his eyes. The King was sitting on his raised divan, with Fath-ud-Din standing beside him. Before them there lay on a gorgeous Persian carpet a great pile of bags of money, one of which had been kicked across the room. It had burst open, and the clash of the escaping silver was the sound which the listeners had heard. They had no time to meditate further on the situation, for Sir Dugald, his face white with anger, was coming towards them, actually turning his back on the King, and as he reached the doorway he looked round over his shoulder and spoke. “Your Majesty understands that under no circumstances will I consent to enter the Palace again. Any communication you may wish to make to me can pass through my secretary.” “But which is he?” inquired Fath-ud-Din smoothly in Arabic, the language in which Sir Dugald had spoken. “Is he the mighty man of whose deeds the hillmen sing, and with whose name the women of Khemistan terrify their children?” Sir Dugald silently indicated Stratford, and the Vizier looked at him and grunted softly to himself. But the King sat up suddenly (he had been leaning forward with his chin on his hand, listening to what passed), and said-- “Ye cannot leave this place without camels, and camels ye shall not have until the treaty is signed.” “No; but we can wait here until a British force comes to escort us away,” said Sir Dugald, and marched down the hall. His staff followed him, not without an uneasy feeling that they might be attacked from behind. Indeed, Kustendjian confessed afterwards that he had never felt quite so much frightened in his life as when Fitz gave him a poke in the ribs. “What was it that they really did, sir?” asked Dick, when they were riding back to the Mission.