THE ENDING OF WAR
would help in the discovery of atomic bombs. . . .
"You will sign that," said the ex-king.
"Why?"
"To show that we aren't in any way hostile to you."
Pestovitch nodded "yes" to his master.
"And then you see," said the ex-king in that easy way of his, "we'll have a lot of men here, borrow help from your police, and run through all your things. And then everything will be over. Meanwhile, if I may be your guest—. . . ."
When presently Pestovitch was alone with the king again, he found him in a state of jangling emotions. His spirit was tossing like a wind-whipped sea. One moment he was exalted and full of contempt for "that ass" and his search; the next he was down in a pit of dread. "They will find them, Pestovitch, and then he'll hang us."
"Hang us?"
The king put his long nose into his councillor's face. "That grinning brute wants to hang us," he said. "And hang us he will, if we give him a shadow of a chance."
"But all their Modern State civilisation!"
"Do you think there's any pity in that crew of Godless, Vivisecting Prigs?" cried this last king of romance. "Do you think, Pestovitch,
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