Seeing Loder, he came forward at once.  “Mr. Fraide’s man brought this, sir,” he explained.  “He was most particular to give it into my hands—­making sure ’twould reach you.  He’s waiting for an answer, sir.”

Loder rose and took the letter, a quick thrill of speculation and interest springing across his mind.  During his time of banishment he had followed the political situation with feverish attention, insupportably chafed by the desire to share in it, apprehensively chilled at the thought of Chilcote’s possible behavior.  He knew that in the comparatively short interval since Parliament had risen no act of aggression had marked the Russian occupation of Meshed, but he also knew that Fraide and his followers looked askance at that great power’s amiable attitude, and at sight of his leader’s message his intuition stirred.

Turning to the nearest lamp, he tore the envelope open and scanned the letter anxiously.  It was written in Fraide’s own clear, somewhat old-fashioned writing, and opened with a kindly rebuke for his desertion of him since the day of his speech; then immediately, and with characteristic clearness, it opened up the subject nearest the writer’s mind.

Very slowly and attentively Loder read the letter; and with the extreme quiet that with him invariably covered emotion, he moved to the desk, wrote a note, and handed it to the waiting servant.  As the man turned towards the door he called him.

“Renwick!” he said, sharply, “when you’ve given that letter to Mr. Fraide’s servant, ask Mrs. Chilcote if she can spare me five minutes.”

When Renwick had gone and closed the door behind him, Loder paced the room with feverish activity.  In one moment the aspect of life had been changed.  Five minutes since he had been glorying in the risk of a barely saved situation; now that situation with its merely social complications had become a matter of small importance.

His long, striding steps had carried him to the fireplace, and his back was towards the door when at last the handle turned.  He wheeled round to receive Eve’s message; then a look of pleased surprise crossed his face.  It was Eve herself who stood in the doorway.

Without hesitation his lips parted.  “Eve,” he said, abruptly, “I have had great news!  Russia has shown her teeth at last.  Two caravans belonging to a British trader were yesterday interfered with by a band of Cossacks.  The affair occurred a couple of miles outside Meshed; the traders remonstrated, but the Russians made summary use of their advantage.  Two Englishmen were wounded and one of them has since died.  Fraide has only now received the news—­which cannot be overrated.  It gives the precise lever necessary for the big move at the reassembling.”  He spoke with great earnestness and unusual haste.  As he finished he took a step forward.  “But that’s not all!” he added.  “Fraide wants the great move set in motion by a great speech—­and he has asked me to make it.”