Colonel Sutphen is Count Muhlen-Sarkey, the Holder of the
Purse."

This Privy Counselor was a moon-faced and rotund individual, who, in his
efforts to preserve a fitting severity of expression in keeping with the
duty before him, had succeeded only in appearing monstrously depressed.
He smiled eagerly, responsively, to Carter's bow, bobbing his head like
a gleeful sparrow. As a matter of fact, the proceedings were to him a
joke--something to relieve the monotony of his existence. Yet this
modern Falstaff, as Carter afterward learned, was among the bravest of
the brave, meeting death with this same cheery smile, and following the
grim monarch with a jest.

The only remaining member of the Council present was Count Sobieska,
Minister of Private Intelligence, who, from under half closed Oriental
eyes, acknowledged the presentation with a dignified, but non-committal,
inclination of the head. He seemed preoccupied in his own passivity, and
was a man in the fullest triumph of life,--the years that enrich at
forty. Lithe-looking as a panther--a somnolent animal now to all
appearances--an occasional gleam of the half masked eyes suggested that
this show of indifference concealed a mind of no inferior order. His
nose was thin and arched like an Arab sheik's, and the close black hair
was chafed from his temples in a seeming baldness. The iron firmness of
his square jaw was not effaced beneath his well-trimmed beard. His
hands, lightly folded over the hilt of a sword held between his knees,
were long, slim, and muscular. Evidently a tireless friend or an
implacable enemy, his was the strongest personality of the three
Counselors present, despite his seeming air of ennui.

Bowing to Carter, he had turned an indifferent scrutiny upon Josef, who,
though smiling, would have apparently foregone the inspection. All eyes
were upon the accuser, however. Trusia's voice broke the silence as she
addressed him.

"You may speak, Josef." There was a trace of regret in her voice. "I
fear you have been over-zealous."

"Listen, Highness," he said. He was anxious to convince; over-anxious,
it seemed. "These men, in their accursed machine, flew past the sentries
at the frontier, disregarding all commands to halt, even the shots
fired."

"That is true," replied Carter. "We could take no chances. We had no
desire to meet Russians just then."

An inquiry half parted Trusia's lips as she turned to hear Carter's
confirmation, but checking her