SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
one, I suppose. Or, if you like, the pruning-knife—and that's not popular with the rotten twigs."
"There are many rotten twigs?"
She heard his hands fall on the wooden arms of the chair and pictured his look of despair. "All— almost all. It's not their fault. What can you expect? They're encouraged to laziness and to riot. They have no good rifles. The city is left defenceless. I have no big guns." He broke suddenly into a low laugh. "There—that's what Zerkovitch calls my fixed idea; he declares it's written on my heart big guns!"
"If you had them, you'd be master?"
"I could make some attempt at a defence anyhow; at least we could cover a retreat to the hills, if war came." He paused. "And in peace—yes, I should be master of Slavna. I'd bring men from Volseni to serve the guns." His voice had grown vindictive.
"Stenovics knows that, I think." He roused himself again and spoke to her earnestly. "Listen. This fellow Mistitch is a great hero with the soldiers and the mob. When I have him shot, as I shall—not on my own account, I could have killed him to-night, but for the sake of discipline there will very likely be a disturbance. What you did to-night will be all over the city by to-morrow morning. If you see any signs of disturbance, if any people gather round here, go to Zerkovitch's at once—or, if that's not possible or safe, come to me in Suleiman's Tower, and I'll send for Marie Zerkovitch too. Will you promise? You must run no risk."
"I'll come if I'm afraid."
"Or if you ought to be?" he insisted, laughing again.
"Well, then—or if I ought to be," she promised,
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