TheCouncilOfJustice

ByEdgarWallace

TheCouncilofJustice

I. —THEREDHUNDRED

IT is not for you or me to judge Manfred and his works. I say 'Manfred',thoughImightaswellhavesaid'Gonsalez',orforthematterofthat'Poiccart',sincetheyareequallyguiltyorgreataccordingtothelightinwhichyouviewtheir acts. The most lawless of us would hesitate to defend them, but thegreaterhumanitariancouldscarcelycondemnthem.Fromthestandpointofus,wholivewithinthelaw,goingaboutourbusinessinconformitywiththecode,andunquestioninglykeepingtotheleftortotherightasthepolicedirect,theirmethodswereterrible,indefensible,revolting.Itdoesnotgreatlyaffecttheissuethat,forwantofabetterword,wecallthemcriminals. Such would be mankind's unanimous designation, but I think—indeed,Iknow—thattheywereindifferenttotheopinionsofthehumanrace.Idoubtverymuchwhethertheyexpectedposteritytohonourthem.Theiractiontowardsthecabinetministerwasmurder,pureandsimple.Yet,inviewof the largehumanitarianproblems involved,whowoulddescribe itas

pernicious?Frankly I say of the threemenwho killedSir PhilipRamon, andwho slewruthlesslyinthenameofJustice,thatmysympathiesarewiththem.Therearecrimes for which there is no adequate punishment, and offences that themachineryof thewritten lawcannot efface.Therein lies the justification forthe Four Just Men,—the Council of Justice as they presently came to callthemselvesacouncilofgreatintellects,passionless.Andnot longafter thedeathofSirPhilip andwhileEngland still rangwiththatexploit,theyperformedanactoraseriesofactsthatwonnotalonefromtheGovernmentofGreatBritain,butfromtheGovernmentsofEurope,asortofunofficial approval andFalmouthhadhiswish.Forhere theywagedwaragainst great world-criminals--they pitted their strength, their cunning, andtheir wonderful intellects against the most powerful organization of theunderworld--againstpastmastersofvillainousarts,andbrainsequallyagile.It was the day of days for the Red Hundred. The wonderful internationalcongress was meeting in London, the first great congress of recognizedAnarchism.Thiswas no hole-and-corner gathering of hurriedmen speakingfurtively, but one open and unafraidwith three policemen specially retainedfordutyoutside thehall,acommissionaire to take ticketsat theouter lobby,andashorthandwriterwithaknowledgeofFrenchandYiddishtomakenotesofremarkableutterances.Thewonderful congresswas a fact.When it had been broached therewerepeoplewholaughedattheidea;NiloffofVitebskwasonebecausehedidnotthink such openness possible. But little Peter (his preposterous name wasKonoplanikova, and hewas a reporter on the staff of the foolish RusskoyeZnamza),thislittlePeterwhohadthoughtoutthewholething,whoseideaitwastogatheraconferenceoftheRedHundredinLondon,whohiredthehallandissuedthebills(bearinginthetopleft-handcornertheinvertedtriangleoftheHundred)askingthoseRussiansinLondoninterestedinthebuildingofaRussian Sailors' Home to apply for tickets, who, too, secured a hall whereinterruptionwasimpossible,washappy—yea,littlebrothers,itwasagreatdayforPeter.'You can always deceive the police,' said little Peter enthusiastically; 'call ameetingwithaphilanthropicobjectand—voila!'WroteInspectorFalmouthtotheassistantcommissionerofpolice:—Yourrespectedcommunicationtohand.ThemeetingtobeheldtonightatthePhoenix Hall, Middlesex Street, E., with the object of raising funds for aRussianSailors'Homeis,ofcourse,thefirstinternationalcongressoftheRedHundred.Shallnotbeabletogetamaninside,butdonotthinkthatmattersmuch,asmeetingwillbeengagedthrowingflowersatoneanotherandserious

businesswillnotcommencetillthemeetingoftheinnercommittee.IinclosealistofmenalreadyarrivedinLondon,andhavethehonourtorequestthatyouwillsendmeportraitsofunder-mentionedmen.There were three delegates from Baden, Herr Schmidt from Frieburg, HerrBleaumeaufromKarlsruhe,andHerrVonDunopfromMannheim.Theywerenot considerable persons, even in the eyes of theworld ofAnarchism; theycalledfornoparticularnotice,andthereforethestrangethingthathappenedtothemonthenightofthecongressisallthemoreremarkable.HerrSchmidthadlefthispensioninBloomsburyandwashurryingeastward.It was a late autumn evening and a chilly rain fell, and Herr Schmidt wasdebatinginhismindwhetherheshouldgodirecttotherendezvouswherehehadpromisedtomeethistwocompatriots,orwhetherheshouldcallataxianddrivedirecttothehall,whenahandgraspedhisarm.Heturnedquicklyandreachedforhishippocket.Twomenstoodbehindhimandbutforthemselvesthesquarethroughwhichhewaspassingwasdeserted.BeforehecouldgrasptheBrowningpistol,hisotherarmwasseizedandthetallerofthetwomenspoke.'YouareAugustusSchmidt?'heasked.'Thatismyname.''Youareananarchist?''Thatismyaffair.''YouareatpresentonyourwaytoameetingoftheRedHundred?'HerrSchmidtopenedhiseyesingenuineastonishment.'Howdidyouknowthat?'heasked.'I am Detective Simpson from Scotland Yard, and I shall take you intocustody,'wasthequietreply.'Onwhatcharge?'demandedtheGerman.'AstothatIshalltellyoulater.'ThemanfromBadenshruggedhisshoulders.'IhaveyettolearnthatitisanoffenceinEnglandtoholdopinions.'Aclosedmotor-carenteredthesquare,andtheshorterofthetwowhistledandthechauffeurdrewupnearthegroup.Theanarchistturnedtothemanwhohadarrestedhim.'I warn you that you shall answer for this,' he said wrathfully. 'I have animportantengagementthatyouhavemadememissthroughyourfooleryand—'

'Getin!'interruptedthetallmantersely.Schmidtsteppedintothecarandthedoorsnappedbehindhim.Hewasaloneandindarkness.ThecarmovedonandthenSchmidtdiscoveredthat therewerenowindows to thevehicle.Awild ideacame tohim thathemightescape.He tried thedoorof thecar; itwas immovable.Hecautiouslytappedit.Itwaslinedwiththinsheetsofsteel.'Aprisononwheels,'hemutteredwithacurse,andsankbackintothecornerofthecar.HedidnotknowLondon;hehadnot theslightest ideawherehewasgoing.For tenminutes thecarmovedalong.Hewaspuzzled.Thesepolicemenhadtaken nothing from him, he still retained his pistol. They had not evenattempted to search him for compromising documents.Not that he had anyexceptthepassfortheconferenceand—theInnerCode!Heavens!Hemustdestroythat.Hethrusthishandintotheinnerpocketofhiscoat.Itwasempty.Thethinleathercasewasgone!Hisfacewentgrey,fortheRedHundred isno fanciful secret societybut abloody-mindedorganizationwithlessmercyforbunglingbrethrenthanforitsswornenemies.Inthethickdarknessofthecarhisnervousfingersgropedthroughallhispockets.Therewasnodoubtatall—thepapershadgone.Inthemidstofhissearchthecarstopped.Heslippedtheflatpistolfromhispocket.Hispositionwasdesperateandhewasnotthekindofmantoshirkarisk.Once there was a brother of the Red Hundred who sold a password to theSecretPolice.AndthebrotherescapedfromRussia.Therewasawomaninit,and thestory isamean little story that ishardlyworth the telling.Only, theman and the woman escaped, and went to Baden, and Schmidt recognizedthem from the portraits he had received from headquarters, and one night...You understand that there was nothing clever or neat about it. Englishnewspaperswouldhavedescribeditasa'revoltingmurder',becausethedetailsofthecrimewererathershocking.ThethingthatstoodtoSchmidtscreditinthebooksoftheSocietywasthatthemurdererwasundiscovered.Thememoryofthisepisodecamebacktotheanarchistasthecarstopped—perhapsthiswasthethingthepolicehaddiscovered?Outofthedarkcornersofhismindcamethesceneagain,andthevoiceoftheman...'Don't!don't!OChrist!don't!'andSchmidtsweated...Thedoorofthecaropenedandheslippedbackthecoverofhispistol.'Don'tshoot,'saidaquietvoiceinthegloomoutside,'herearesomefriendsofyours.'Heloweredhispistol,forhisquickearsdetectedawheezingcough.

'VonDunop!'hecriedinastonishment.'AndHerrBleaumeau,'saidthesamevoice.'Getin,youtwo.'Twomen stumbled into the car, one dumbfounded and silent—save for thewheezingcough—theotherblasphemousandvoluble.'Wait,myfriend!'ravedthebulkofBleaumeau;'wait!IwillmakeyousorryThedoorshutandthecarmovedon.The two men outside watched the vehicle with its unhappy passengersdisappearroundacornerandthenwalkedslowlyaway.'Extraordinarymen,'saidthetaller.'Most,'repliedtheother,andthen,'VonDunop—isn'the—?''ThemanwhothrewthebombattheSwissPresident—yes.'Theshortermansmiledinthedarkness.'Givenaconscience,heisenduringhishour,'hesaid.ThepairwalkedoninsilenceandturnedintoOxfordStreetastheclockofachurchstruckeight.The tallman lifted his walking-stick and a sauntering taxi pulled up at thecurb.'Aldgate,'hesaid,andthetwomentooktheirseats.Not until the taxiwas spinning alongNewgate Street did either of themenspeak,andthentheshorterasked:'Youarethinkingaboutthewoman?'The other nodded and his companion relapsed into silence; then he spokeagain:'Sheisaproblemandadifficulty,inaway—yetsheisthemostdangerousofthe lot. And the curious thing about it is that if shewere not beautiful andyoung she would not be a problem at all.We're very human, George. Godmadeusillogicalthattheminorbusinessesoflifeshouldnotinterferewiththegreatscheme.Andthegreatschemeis thatanimalmenshouldselectanimalwomenforthemothersoftheirchildren.''Venenum in auro bibitur,' the other quoted, which shows that he was anextraordinarydetective, 'and so far as I amconcerned itmatters little tomewhether an irresponsible homicide is a beautiful woman or a misshapennegro.'TheydismissedthetaxiatAldgateStationandturnedintoMiddlesexStreet.The meeting-place of the great congress was a hall which was originallyerected by an enthusiastic Christian gentleman with a weakness for the

conversionofJewstotheNewPresbyterianChurch,Withthislaudableobjectit had been opened with great pomp and the singing of anthems and theenthusiastic proselytizer had spoken on that occasion two hours and fortyminutesbytheclock.After twelve months' labour the Christian gentleman discovered that theadvantagesofChristianityonlyappealtoveryrichJewsindeed,totheCohenswhobecomeCowans,totheIsaacswhobecomeGrahames,andtothecuriouslow-down Jews who stand in the same relation to their brethren as WhiteKaffirstoaEuropeancommunity.So the hall passed from hand to hand, and, failing to obtain a music anddancinglicence,wentbacktothemission-hallstage.Successive generations of small boys had destroyed its windows andbeplastered itswalls. Successive fly-posters had touched its blank facewithcolour. Tonight therewas nothing to suggest that therewas any business ofextraordinary importance being transacted within its walls. A Russian or aYiddishoranykindofreuniondoesnotgreatlyexciteMiddlesexStreet,andhadlittlePeterboldlyannouncedthatthecongressoftheRedHundredweretomeet in full session therewouldhavebeenno localexcitementand—if thetruthbetold—hemightstillhavesecuredtheservicesofhisthreepolicemenandcommissionaire.Tothisworthy,aneat,cleanlygentlemaninuniform,wearingonhisbreastthemedals for the relief of Chitral and the Soudan Campaigns, the two mendelivered the perforated halves of their tickets and passed through the outerlobbyintoasmallroom.Byadoorat theotherendstoodathinmanwithastragglingbeard.Hiseyeswere red-rimmedandweak,hewore longnarrowbuttonedboots,andhehadatrickofpeckinghisheadforwardsandsidewayslikeaninquisitivehen.'You have the word, brothers?' he asked, speaking German like oneunaccustomedtothelanguage.Thetallerofthetwostrangersshotaswiftglanceatthesentinelthatabsorbedthequestionerfromhiscrackedpatentleatherbootstohisflamboyantwatch-chain.ThenheansweredinItalian:'Nothing!'Thefaceoftheguardianflushedwithpleasureatthefamiliartongue.'Pass,brother;itisverygoodtohearthatlanguage.'Theairofthecrowdedhallstruckthetwomeninthefaceliketheblastfromadestructor. It was unclean; unhealthy—the scent of an early-morning doss-house.The hall was packed, the windows were closed and curtained, and as a

precautionary measure, little Peter had placed thick blankets before theventilators.Atoneendof thehallwasaplatformonwhichstoodasemicircleofchairsandinthecentrewasatabledrapedwithred.Onthewallbehindthechairs—everyoneofwhichwasoccupied—wasahugeredflagbearinginthecentreagreatwhite'C'.Ithadbeentackedtothewall,butonecornerhadbrokenawayrevealingapartofthepaintedscrollofthemissionworkers:'...arethemeek,fortheyshallinherittheearth.'Thetwointruderspushedtheirwaythroughagroupthatweregatheredatthedoor. Three aisles ran the length of the building, and they made their wayalongthecentralgangwayandfoundseatsneartheplatform.Abrotherwasspeaking.Hewasagoodandzealousworkerbutabadorator.HespokeinGermanandenunciatedcommonplaceswithhoarseemphasis.Hesaidall the things thatothermenhadsaidandforgotten. 'This is the time tostrike'was hismost notable sentence, and notable only because it evoked afaintbuzzofapplause.Theaudiencestirredimpatiently.ThegoodBentvitchhadspokenbeyondhisallottedtime;andtherewereotherpeopletospeak—andprosyatthat.Anditwouldbeteno'clockbeforetheWomanofGratzwouldrise.Thebabblewasgreatest in thecornerof thehall,where littlePeter, all eyesandstartledeyebrows,wastalkingtoanaudienceofhisown.'Itisimpossible,itisabsurd,itismostfoolish!'histhinvoicerosealmosttoascream.'Ishouldlaughatit—weshouldalllaugh,buttheWomanofGratzhastakenthematterseriously,andsheisafraid!''Afraid!''Nonsense!''Oh,Peter,thefool!'Therewereother thingssaidbecauseeverybody in thevicinityexpressedanopinion. Peter was distressed, but not by the epithets. He was crushed,humiliated, beaten by his tremendous tidings. He was nearly crying at thehorriblethought.TheWomanofGratzwasafraid!TheWomanofGratzwho...Itwasunthinkable.Heturnedhiseyestowardtheplatform,butshewasnotthere.'Tellusaboutit,Peter,'pleadedadozenvoices;butthelittlemanwiththetearstwinklingonhisfaireyelasheswavedthemoff.Sofarfromhisincoherentoutbursttheyhadlearntonlythis—thattheWomanofGratzwasafraid.

Andthatwasbadenough.Forthiswoman—shewasagirlreally,aslipofachildwhoshouldhavebeenfinishinghereducationsomewhereinGermany—thissamewomanhadoncerisenandelectrifiedtheworld.There had been a meeting in a small Hungarian town to discuss ways andmeans.AndwhenthemenhadfinishedtheirdenunciationofAustria,sheroseandtalked.Ashort-skirtedlittlegirlwithtwolongflaxenbraidsofhair,thin-legged,flat-chested,angular,hipless—thatiswhatthemenofGratznoticedastheysmiledbehindtheirhandsandwonderedwhyherfatherhadbroughthertothemeeting.Butherspeech...twohoursshespokeandnomanstirred.Alittleflat-chestedgirlfullofsonorousphrases—mostlyshehadcollectedthemfromthetalkinOld Joseph's kitchen.Butwith some power of her own, she had spun themtogether, these inconsiderable truisms, and had endowed them with awondrousvitality.They were old, old platitudes, if the truth be told, but at some time in thehistory of revolution, some long dead genius had coined them, and newlyfashionedinthefurnaceofhissoultheyhadshapedmen'smindsanddirectedtheirgreatanddreadfuldeeds.SotheWomanofGratzarrived,andtheytalkedaboutherandcirculatedherspeeches inevery language.Andshegrew.Thehollowfaceof this lankgirlfilled, and the flatbosom roundedand therecamesofter linesandcurves toherangularfigure,and,almostbeforetheyrealizedthefact,shewasbeautiful.So her fame had grown until her father died and shewent to Russia. Thencameaseriesofoutrageswhichmaybecategoricallyandbrieflysetforth:—1:GeneralMaloffshotdeadbyanunknownwomaninhisprivateroomatthePoliceBureau,Moscow.2: Prince Hazallarkoff shot dead by an unknown woman in the streets ofPetrograd.3:ColonelKaverdavskovkilledbyabombthrownbyawomanwhomadeherescape.AndtheWomanofGratzleapttoagreaterfame.Shehadbeenarrestedhalfadozentimes,andwhippedtwice,buttheycouldprovenothingagainstherandelicitnothingfromher—andshewasverybeautiful.Nowtothethunderingapplauseofthewaitingdelegates,shesteppedupontheplatformandtookthelastspeaker'splacebythesideofthered-coveredtable.She raised her hand and absolute and complete silence fell on the hall, somuchso thather firstwordssoundedstridentandshrill, for shehadattuned

her voice to the din. She recovered her pitch and dropped her voice to aconversationaltone.Shestoodeasilywithherhandsclaspedbehindherandmadenogesture.Theemotion that was within her she conveyed through her wonderful voice.Indeed,thepowerofthespeechlayratherinitsdeliverythaninitssubstance,foronlynowand thendidshedepart from theunwritten textofAnarchism:therightoftheoppressedtooverthrowtheoppressor;thedivinityofviolence;thesacrednessofsacrificeandmartyrdominthecauseofenlightenment.Onephrase alone stood apart from the commonplace of her oratory. She wasspeakingof theTheoristswhocounselreformandcondemnviolence, 'TheseChristswhodeputizetheirCalvaries,'shecalledthemwithfinescorn,andthehallroareditsapprovaloftheimagery.Itwasthefuryoftheapplausethatdisconcertedher;thetallerofthetwomenwho sat watching her realized that much. For when the shouting had dieddown and she strove to resume, she faltered and stammered and then wassilent.Thenabruptlyandwithsurprisingvehemenceshebeganagain.Butshehadchangedthedirectionofheroratory,anditwasuponanothersubjectthatshenowspoke.Asubjectnearertoheratthatmomentthananyother,forherpalecheeksflushedandafeverishlightcametohereyesasshespoke.'...andnow,withallourperfectorganization,withtheworldalmostwithinourgrasp—there comes somebodywho says "Stop!"—andwewho by our actshave terrorized kings and dominated the councils of empires, are ourselvesthreatened!'Theaudiencegrewdeadlysilent.Theyweresilentbefore,butnowthesilencewaspainful.Thetwomenwhowatchedherstirredalittleuneasily,asthoughsomethinginherspeechhadjarred.Indeed,thesuggestionofbraggadocioinherassertionoftheRedHundred'spowerhadstruckadiscordantnote.Thegirlcontinuedspeakingrapidly.'Wehaveheard—youhaveheard—weknowofthesemenwhohavewrittentous. They say'—her voice rose—'that we shall not do what we do. Theythreatenus—theythreatenme—thatwemustchangeourmethods,ortheywillpunishas—aswe—punish;killaswekill—'There was amurmuring in the audience andmen looked at one another inamazement.Forterrorunmistakableandundisguisedwaswrittenonherpalefaceandshonefromthosewondrouseyesofhers.'Butwewilldefy—'Loudvoicesandthesoundofscufflinginthelittleanteroominterruptedher,andawarningwordshoutedbroughttheaudiencetoitsfeet.

'Thepolice!'A hundred stealthy hands reached for cunning pockets, but somebody leaptuponabench,neartheentrance,andheldupanauthoritativehand.'Gentlemen, there is no occasion for alarm—I amDetective-SuperintendentFalmouthfromScotlandYard,andIhavenoquarrelwiththeRedHundred.'LittlePeter,transfixedforthemoment,pushedhiswaytowardsthedetective.'Whodoyouwant—whatdoyouwant?'heasked.Thedetectivestoodwithhisbacktothedoorandanswered.'I want two men who were seen to enter this hall: two members of anorganizationthatisoutsidetheRedHundred.They—''Ha!'Thewomanwhostillstoodupontheplatformleantforwardwithblazingeyes.'I know—Iknow!' she criedbreathlessly; 'themenwho threatenedus—whothreatenedme—TheFourJustMen!'

II. —THEFOURTHMAN

THEtallman'shandwasinhispocketwhenthedetectivespoke.Whenhehadenteredthehallhehadthrownaswiftglanceroundtheplaceandtakenineverydetail.Hehadseenthebeadedstripofunpaintedwoodwhichguardedtheelectriclightcables,andhadimprovedtheopportunitywhilsttheprosy brother was speaking to make a further reconnaissance. There was awhiteporcelainswitchboardwithhalfadozenswitchesattheleft-handsideoftheplatform.Hejudgedthedistanceandthrewupthehandthatheldthepistol.Bang!Bang!Acrashofbrokenglass,aquickflashofblueflamefromtheshatteredfuses—and the hallwas in darkness. It happened before the detective could springfrom his form into the yelling, screaming crowd—before the police officercouldgetaglanceatthemanwhofiredtheshots.Inaninstanttheplacewasapandemonium.'Silence!'Falmouthroaredabovethedin; 'silence!Keepquiet,youmiserablecowards—showalighthere,Brown,Curtis—Inspector,whereareyourmen'slanterns!'

Theraysofadozenbull's-eyelampswavedoverthestrugglingthrong.'Openyourlanterns'—andtotheseethingmob,'Silence!'Thenabrightyoungofficerrememberedthathehadseengas-brackets in theroom,andstruggledthrough the howlingmob till he came to thewall and found the gas-fittingwithhislantern.Hestruckamatchandlitthegas,andthepanicsubsidedassuddenlyasithadbegun.Falmouth,chokedwithrage,threwhiseyeroundthehall.'Guardthedoor,'hesaidbriefly;'thehallissurroundedandtheycannotpossiblyescape.'Hestrodeswiftlyalongthecentralaisle,followedbytwoofhismen,andwithanagileleap,sprangontotheplatformandfacedtheaudience.TheWomanofGratz,withawhitesetface,stoodmotionless,onehandrestingonthelittletable,theother at her throat. Falmouth raised his hand to enjoin silence and the law-breakersobeyed.'IhavenoquarrelwiththeRedHundred,'hesaid.'Bythelawofthiscountryitis permissible to hold opinions and propagate doctrines, howeverobjectionabletheybe—Iamheretoarresttwomenwhohavebrokenthelawsof this country.Twopersonswho are part of the organization known as theFourJustMen.'Allthetimehewasspeakinghiseyessearchedthefacesbeforehim.Heknewthat one-half of the audience could not understand him and that the humoftalkthataroseashefinishedwashisspeechincourseoftranslation.The faces he sought he could not discern. To be exact, he hoped that hisscrutinywouldinducetwomen,ofwhoseidentityhewasignorant,tobetraythemselves.Therearelittleevents,unimportantinthemselves,whichoccasionallyleadtotremendous issues. A skidding motor-bus that crashed into a private car inPiccadilly had led to the discovery that there were three vociferous foreigngentlemenimprisonedintheoverturnedvehicle.Itledtothefurtherdiscoverythat the chauffeur had disappeared in the confusion of the collision. In thedarkness,comparingnotes,thethreeprisonershadarrivedataconclusion—towit,thattheirabductionwasasequeltoamysteriouslettereachhadreceived,whichborethesignature'TheFourJustMen'.Sointhepanicoccasionedbytheaccident,theyweresufficientlyindiscreettocursetheFourJustMenbyname,and,theFourJustMenbeingasoretopicwith the police, they were questioned further, and the end of it was thatSuperintendent Falmouth motored eastward in great haste and was met inMiddlesexStreetbyareserveofpolicespeciallysummoned.He was at the same disadvantage he had always been—the Four JustMenwere to him names only, symbols of a swift remorseless force that strucksurelyandtotheminute—andnothingmore.

Twoor three of the leaders of theRedHundredhad singled themselves outanddrewclosertotheplatform.'Wearenotaware,'saidFrancois,theFrenchman,speakingforhiscompanionsinfaultlessEnglish,'wearenotawareoftheidentityofthemenyouseek,buton the understanding that they are not brethren of our Society, andmoreover'—he was at a loss for words to put the fantastic situation—'andmoreover since they have threatened us— threatened us,' he repeated inbewilderment,'wewillaffordyoueveryassistance.'Thedetectivejumpedattheopportunity.'Good!'hesaidandformedarapidplan.The twomen could not have escaped from the hall. Therewas a little doornear the platform, he had seen that—as the twomen he sought had seen it.Escapeseemedpossiblethroughthere;theyhadthoughtso,too.ButFalmouthknewthattheouterdoorleadingfromthelittlevestibulewasguardedbytwopolicemen.Thiswas thesumof thediscoverymadealsoby the twomenhesought.HespokerapidlytoFrancois.'Iwanteverypersoninthehalltobevouchedfor,'hesaidquickly.'Somebodymustidentifyeveryman,andtheidentifiermusthimselfbeidentified.'Thearrangementsweremadewith lightning-like rapidity.FromtheplatforminFrench,GermanandYiddish,theleadersoftheRedHundredexplainedtheplan.Thenthepoliceformedaline,andonebyonethepeoplecameforward,andshyly,suspiciouslyorself-consciously,accordingtotheirseveralnatures,theypassedthepoliceline.'ThatisSimonCzechofBuda-Pest.''Whoidentifieshim?''I.'—adozenvoices.'Pass.''ThisisMichaelRanekovofOdessa.''Whoidentifieshim?''I,'saidaburlyman,speakinginGerman.'Andyou?'Therewasalittletitter,forMichaelisthebest-knownmanintheOrder.Sometherewerewho,havingpassed the line,waited to identify theirkinsfolkandfellow-countrymen.'ItseemsmuchsimplerthanIcouldhaveimagined.'Itwas the tallmanwith the trimbeard,who spoke in aguttural tonewhichwasneitherGermannorYiddish.Hewaswatchingwithamused interest the

examination.'Separating the lambs from thegoatswithavengeance,' he saidwitha faintsmile,andhistaciturncompanionnodded.Thenheasked—'Doyouthinkanyofthesepeoplewillrecognizeyouasthemanwhofired?'Thetallmanshookhisheaddecisively.'Their eyeswereon thepolice—andbesides I am tooquick a shot.Nobodysawmeunless—''TheWomanofGratz?'askedtheother,withoutshowingtheslightestconcern.'TheWomanofGratz,'saidGeorgeManfred.They formed part of a struggling line that moved slowly toward the policebarrier.'Ifear,'saidManfred,'thatweshallbeforcedtomakeourescapeinaperfectlyobviousway—thebull-at-the-gatemethodisonethatIobjecttoonprinciple,anditisonethatIhaveneverbeenobligedtoemploy.'Theywere speaking all the time in the language of the harsh gutturals, andthosewhowereintheirvicinitylookedattheminsomeperplexity,foritisatongueunlikeanythatisheardintheRevolutionaryBelt.Closerandclosertheygrewtotheinflexibleinquisitorattheendofthepoliceline. Ahead of themwas a youngmanwho turned from time to time as ifseekingafriendbehind.Hiswasafacethatfascinatedtheshorterofthetwomen,everastudentoffaces.Itwasafaceofdeadlypallor,thatthedarkclose-croppedhairand the thickblackeyebrowsaccentuated.Aesthetic inoutline,refinedincontour,itwasthefaceofavisionary,andintherestless,troubledeyestherelayahintofthefanatic.Hereachedthebarrierandadozeneagermen stepped forward for the honour of sponsorship. Then he passed andManfredsteppedcalmlyforward.'Heinrich Rossenburg of Raz,' he mentioned the name of an obscureTransylvanianvillage.'Who identifies thisman?' asked Falmouthmonotonously.Manfred held hisbreathandstoodreadytospring.'Ido.'Itwas thespirituewhohadgonebeforehim; thedreamerwith thefaceofapriest.'Pass.'Manfred,calmandsmiling,saunteredthroughthepolicewithafamiliarnodtohissaviour.Thenheheardthechallengethatmethiscompanion.'RolfWoolfund,'heheardPoiccart'sclear,untroubledvoice.

'Whoidentifiesthisman?'Againhewaitedtensely.'1do,'saidtheyoungman'svoiceagain.ThenPoiccartjoinedhim,andtheywaitedalittle.OutofthecornerofhiseyeManfredsawthemanwhohadvouchedforhimsauntertowardthem.Hecameabreast,then:'IfyouwouldcaretomeetmeatReggiori'satKing'sCrossIshallbethereinanhour,'he said,andManfrednoticedwithoutemotion that thisyoungmanalsospokeinArabic.Theypassedthroughthecrowdthathadgatheredaboutthehall—forthenewsofthepoliceraidhadspreadlikewildfirethroughtheEastEnd—andgainedAldgateStationbeforetheyspoke.'This is a curious beginning to our enterprise,' said Manfred. He seemedneither pleased nor sorry. 'I have always thought thatArabicwas the safestlanguage in theworld inwhich to talk secrets—one learnswisdomwith theyears,'headdedphilosophically.Poiccart examined his well-manicured finger-nails as though the problemcentredthere.'Thereisnoprecedent,'hesaid,speakingtohimself.'Andhemaybeanembarrassment,'addedGeorge; then, 'letuswaitandseewhatthehourbrings.'Thehourbrought themanwhohadbefriended themsostrangely. Itbroughtalsoa little inadvanceofhima fourthmanwho limpedslightlybutgreetedthetwowitharuefulsmile.'Hurt?'askedManfred.'Nothingworthspeakingabout,'saidtheothercarelessly,'andnowwhatisthemeaningofyourmysterioustelephonemessage?'Briefly Manfred sketched the events of the night, and the other listenedgravely.'It's a curious situation,' he began, when a warning glance from Poiccartarrestedhim.Thesubjectoftheirconversationhadarrived.Hesatdownat thetable,anddismissedtheflutteringwaiter thathungabouthim.Thefoursatinsilenceforawhileandthenewcomerwasthefirsttospeak.'I call myself Bernard Courtlander,' he said simply, 'and you are theorganizationknownastheFourJustMen.'Theydidnotreply.'Isawyoushoot,'hewentonevenly, 'becauseIhadbeenwatchingyoufrom

the moment when you entered the hall, and when the police adopted themethodofidentification,Iresolvedtoriskmylifeandspeakforyou.''Meaning,'interposedPoiccartcalmly,'youresolvedtorisk—ourkillingyou?''Exactly,' said theyoungman,nodding, 'apurelyoutsideviewwouldbe thatsuch a course would be a fiendish act of ingratitude, but I have a closerperceptionofprinciples,andIrecognizethatsuchasequeltomyinterferenceis perfectly logical.' He singled outManfred leaning back on the red plushcushions. 'Youhavesooftenshown thathuman life is the leastconsiderablefactor in your plan, and have given such evidence of your singleness ofpurpose,thatIamfullysatisfiedthatifmylife—orthelifeofanyoneofyou—stood before the fulfilment of your objects, that life would go—so!' Hesnappedhisfingers.'Well?'saidManfred.'Iknowofyourexploits,'thestrangeyoungmanwenton,'aswhodoesnot?'Hetookfromhispocketaleathercase,andfromthatheextractedanewspapercutting.Neitherofthethreemenevincedtheslightestinterestinthepaperheunfoldedonthewhitecloth.Theireyeswereonhisface.'Hereisalistofpeopleslain—forjustice'sake,'Courtlandersaid,smoothingthe creases from a cutting from theMegaphone, 'menwhom the law of thelandpassedby,sweatersanddebauchers, robbersofpublic funds,corruptersof youth—menwho bought 'justice' as you and I buy bread.'He folded thepaperagain.'IhaveprayedGodthatImightonedaymeetyou.''Well?'ItwasManfred'svoiceagain.'Iwanttobewithyou,tobeoneofyou,toshareyourcampaignandand—'hehesitated,thenaddedsoberly,'ifneedbe,thedeaththatawaitsyou.'Manfrednoddedslowly,thenlookedtowardthemanwiththelimp.'Whatdoyousay,Gonsalez?'heasked.ThisLeonGonsalezwasafamousreaderoffaces,—thatmuchtheyoungmanknew,—andheturnedforthetestandmettheother'sappraisingeyes.'Enthusiast,dreamer,andintellectual,ofcourse,'saidGonsalezslowly; 'thereisreliabilitywhichisgood,andbalancewhichisbetter—but—''But—?'askedCourtlandersteadily.'Thereispassion,whichisbad,'wastheverdict.'Itisamatteroftraining,'answeredtheotherquietly.'Mylothasbeenthrownwithpeoplewhothinkinafrenzyandactinmadness;itisthefaultofalltheorganizations that seek to rightwrongby indiscriminate crime,whose senseare senses, who have debased sentiment to sentimentality, andwhomuddlekingswithkingship.''YouareoftheRedHundred?'askedManfred.

'Yes,'saidtheother,'becausetheRedHundredcarriesmealittlewayalongtheroadIwishtotravel.''Inthedirection?''Whoknows?' replied theother. 'Therearenostraight roads,andyoucannotjudgewhereliesyourdestinationbythedirectionthefirstlineofpathtakes.''Idonottellyouhowgreatariskyoutakeuponyourself,'saidManfred,'nordo I labour the extent of the responsibility you ask to undertake.You are awealthyman?''Yes,'saidCourtlander,'aswealthgoes;IhavelargeestatesinHungary.''Idonotask thatquestionaimlessly,yet itwouldmakenodifference ifyouwerepoor,'saidManfred.'Areyoupreparedtosellyourestates—Buda-GratzIbelievetheyarecalled—Highness?'Forthefirsttimetheyoungmansmiled.'I didnotdoubtbut that youknewme,' he said; 'as tomyestates Iwill sellthemwithouthesitation.''Andplacethemoneyatmydisposal?''Yes,'hereplied,instantly.'Withoutreservation?''Withoutreservation.''And,'saidManfred,slowly,'ifwefeltdisposedtoemploythismoneyforwhatmightseemourownpersonalbenefit,wouldyoutakeexception?''None,'saidtheyoungman,calmly.'Andasaproof?'demandedPoiccart,leaningalittleforward.'ThewordofaHap—''Enough,' said Manfred; 'we do not want your money—yet money is thesupremetest.'Heponderedawhilebeforehespokeagain.'There is theWoman of Gratz,' he said abruptly; 'at the worst she must bekilled.''Itisapity,'saidCourtlander,alittlesadly.Hehadansweredthefinaltestdidhebutknowit.Atoowillingcompliance,anover-eagernesstoagreewiththesupreme sentence of the 'Four', any one thing thatmight have betrayed thelackof thatexactbalanceofmind,which theirworddemanded,wouldhaveirretrievablycondemnedhim.'Letusdrinkanarrogant toast,' saidManfred,beckoningawaiter.Thewinewasopenedandtheglassesfilled,andManfredmutteredthetoast.'TheFourwhowerethree,totheFourthwhodiedandtheFourthwhoisborn.'Once upon a time there was a fourth who fell riddled with bullets in a

Bordeaux café, and him they pledged. In Middlesex Street, in the almostemptiedhall,Falmouthstoodatbaybeforeanarmyofreporters.'WeretheytheFourJustMen,Mr.Falmouth?''Didyouseethem?''Haveyouanyclue?'Every second brought a fresh batch of newspapermen, taxi after taxi cameinto thedingystreet,and thestringofvehicles linedupoutside thehallwassuggestiveofafashionablegathering.TheTelephoneTragedywasstill freshin thepublicmind,and itneedednomore than theutteranceof themagicalwords'FourJustMen'tofanthesparkofinteresttoflameagain.Thedelegatesof theRedHundred formed a privileged throng in the littlewilderness of aforecourt,andthroughthesethejournalistscirculatedindustriously.SmithoftheMegaphoneandhisyouthfulassistant,Maynard,slippedthroughthecrowdandfoundtheirtaxi.Smithshoutedadirectiontothedriverandsankbackintheseatwithawhistleofweariness.'Didyouhear thosechaps talkingaboutpoliceprotection?'heasked; 'all theblessed anarchists from all over the world—and talking like a mothers'meeting! To hear 'em you would think they were the most respectablemembers of society that the world had ever seen. Our civilization is awonderfulthing,'headded,cryptically.'Oneman,'saidMaynard, 'askedmeinverybadFrenchiftheconductoftheFourJustMenwasactionable!'Atthatmoment,anotherquestionwasbeingputtoFalmouthbyaleaderoftheRedHundred,andFalmouth,alittleruffledinhistemper,repliedwithalltheurbanitythathecouldsummon.'Youmayhaveyourmeetings,'hesaidwithsomeasperity,'solongasyoudonot utter anything calculated to bring about a breachof the peace, youmaytalkseditionandanarchytillyou'reblueintheface.YourEnglishfriendswilltellyouhowfaryoucango—andImightsayyoucangoprettyfar—youcanadvocatetheassassinationofkings,solongasyoudon'tspecifywhichking;you canplot against governments anddenounce armies andgranddukes; infact,youcandoasyouplease—becausethat'sthelaw.''What is—abreachof thepeace?'askedhis interrogator,repeatingthewordswithdifficulty.Anotherdetectiveexplained.Francois and one Rudulph Starque escorted the Woman of Gratz to herBloomsburylodgingsthatnight,andtheydiscussedthedetective'sanswer.

This Starque was a big man, strongly built, with a fleshy face and littlepouchesunderhiseyes.Hewasreputedtobewelloff,andtohaveawaywithwomen.'Soitwouldappear,'hesaid,'thatwemaysay"Letthekingsbeslain",butnot"Letthekingbeslain";alsothatwemaypreachthedownfallofgovernments,butifwesay"Letusgointothiscafé"—howdoyoucallit?—"public-house,andberudetotheproprietaire"wecommita—er—breachofthepeace—nec'estpas?'Itisso,'saidFrancois,'thatistheEnglishway.''Itisamadway,'saidtheother.Theyreachedthedoorofthegirl'spension.Shehadbeenveryquietduringthewalk, answering questions that were put to her in monosyllables. She hadamplefoodforthoughtintheeventsofthenight.Francoisbadeheracurtgoodnightandwalkedalittledistance.Ithadcometobe regardedasStarque'sprivilege tostandnearest thegirl.Nowhe tookherslimhandsinhisandlookeddownather.SomeonehassaidtheEastbeginsatBukarest,butthereisatouchoftheEasternineveryHungarian,andthereisacrudeness in theirwhole attitude towomankind that shocks themore tendersusceptibilitiesoftheWestern.'Goodnight,littleMaria,'hesaidinalowvoice.'Somedayyouwillbekinder,andyouwillnotleavemeatthedoor.'Shelookedathimsteadfastly.'Thatwillneverbe,'shereplied,withoutatremor.

III. —JESSEN,ALIASLONG

THEfrontpageofeverybigLondondailywasagainblackwiththestoryoftheFourJustMen.'WhatIshouldlike,'saidtheeditorof theMegaphone,wistfully, 'isasortofofficialpropagandafromtheFour—asortofinspiredmanifestothatwecouldspreadintosixcolumns.'CharlesGarret,theMegaphone's'star'reporter,withhishatonthebackofhishead,andanapparentlyinattentiveeyefixedontheelectrolier,sniffed.Theeditorlookedathimreflectively.'Asmartmanmightgetintotouchwiththem.'Charlessaid,'Yes,'butwithoutenthusiasm.'Ifitwasn'tthatIknewyou,'musedtheeditor,'Ishouldsayyouwereafraid.'

'Iam,'saidCharlesshamelessly.'I don'twant to put a younger reporter on this job,' said the editor sadly, 'itwouldlookbadforyou;butI'mafraidImust.''Do,'saidCharleswithanimation, 'do,andputmedowntenshillings towardthewreath.'Helefttheofficeafewminuteslaterwiththeghostofasmileatthecornersofhismouth,andonefixeddeterminationinthedeepestandmostsecretrecessesof his heart. It was rather like Charles that, having by an uncompromisingfirmness established his right to refuse work of a dangerous character, heshouldofhisownwillundertakethe taskagainstwhichhehadofficiallysethis face. Perhaps his chief knew him as well as he knew himself, for asCharles,withalastdefiantsnort,stalkedfromtheoffice,thesmilethatcametohislipswasreflectedontheeditor'sface.WalkingthroughtheechoingcorridorsofMegaphoneHouse,Charleswhistledthatpopularandsatiricalsong,thechorusofwhichruns—BykindpermissionoftheMegaphone,BykindpermissionoftheMegaphone.SummercomeswhenSpringhasgone,Andtheworldgoesspinningon,BypermissionoftheDailyMegaphone.Presently, he found himself in Fleet Street, and, standing at the edge of thecurb,heansweredataxi-driver'sexpectantlookwithanod.'Whereto,sir?'askedthedriver.'37 Presley Street, Walworth—round by the "Blue Bob" and the secondturningtotheleft.'Crossing Waterloo Bridge it occurred to him that the taxi might attractattention, so half-way down theWaterlooRoad he gave another order, and,dismissingthevehicle,hewalkedtheremainderoftheway.Charlesknockedat37PresleyStreet,andafteralittlewaitafirmstepechoedin thepassage,and thedoorwashalfopened.Thepassagewasdark,buthecouldseedimlythethick-setfigureofthemanwhostoodwaitingsilently.'IsthatMr.Long?'heasked.'Yes,'saidthemancurtly.Charles laughed,andthemanseemedtorecognizethevoiceandopenedthedooralittlewider.'NotMr.Garrett?'heaskedinsurprise.'That'sme,'saidCharles,andwalkedintothehouse.

Hishost stopped to fasten thedoor, andCharlesheard the snapof thewell-oiledlockandthescrapingofachain.Thenwithanapologythemanpushedpast him and, opening the door, ushered him into a well-lighted room,motioned Charles to a deep-seated chair, seated himself near a small table,turneddownthepageofthebookfromwhichhehadevidentlybeenreading,andlookedinquiringlyathisvisitor.'I'vecometoconsultyou,'saidCharles.AlessermanthanMr.Longmighthavebeengrosslyflippant,butthisyoungman—hewasthirty-five,butlookedolder—didnotdescendtosuchalevel.'Iwantedtoconsultyou,'hesaidinreply.His languagewas the language of amanwho addresses an equal, but therewassomethinginhismannerwhichsuggesteddeference.'YouspoketomeaboutMilton,'hewenton,'butIfindIcan'treadhim.Ithinkit is because he is not sufficiently material.' He paused a little. "The onlypoetryIcanreadisthepoetryoftheBible,andthatisbecausematerialismandmysticismaresoingeniouslyblended—'Hemayhaveseentheshadowonthejournalist'sface,buthestoppedabruptly.'I can talk about books another time,' he said. Charles did not make theconventionaldisclaimer,butacceptedtheother'sinterpretationoftheurgencyofhisbusiness.'You know everybody,' said Charles, 'all the queer fish in the basket, and aproportionofthemgettoknowyou—intime.'Theothernoddedgravely.'Whenothersourcesofinformationfail,'continuedthejournalist,'Ihaveneverhesitatedtocometoyou—Jessen.'Itmaybeobservedthat 'Mr.Long'atthethresholdofthehousebecame'Mr.Jessen'intheintimacyoftheinnerroom.'Iowemoretoyouthaneveryoucanowetome,'hesaidearnestly; 'youputmeonthetrack,'hewavedhishandroundtheroomasthoughtherefinementoftheroomwasthesymbolofthattrackofwhichhespoke. 'Yourememberthatmorning?—ifyouhaveforgotten,Ihaven't—whenItoldyouthattoforget—Imustdrink?Andyousaid—''Ihaven't forgotten, Jessen,' said thecorrespondentquietly; 'and the fact thatyouhaveaccomplishedall thatyouhave isaproof that there'sgoodstuff inyou.'Theotheracceptedthepraisewithoutcomment.'Now,' Charles went on, 'I want to tell you what I started out to tell: I'mfollowingabigstory.It'stheFourJustMenstory;youknowallaboutit?Iseethatyoudo;well,I'vegottogetintotouchwiththemsomehow.Idonotfor

onemoment imagine thatyoucanhelpme,nordo Iexpect that thesechapshaveanyaccomplicesamongstthepeopleyouknow.''Theyhavenot,'saidJessen;'Ihaven'tthoughtitworthwhileinquiring.WouldyouliketogototheGuild?'Charlespursedhislipsinthought.'Yes,'hesaidslowly,'that'sanidea;yes,when?''Tonight—ifyouwish.''Tonightletitbe,'saidCharles.Hishostroseandlefttheroom.Hereappearedpresently,wearingadarkovercoatandabouthisthroatablacksilkmufflerthatemphasizedthepallorofhisstrongsquareface.'Wait a moment,' he said, and unlocked a drawer, from which he took arevolver.Heturnedthemagazinecarefully,andCharlessmiled.'Willthatbenecessary?'heasked.Jessenshookhishead.'No,'hesaidwithalittleembarrassment,'but—Ihavegivenupallmyfolliesandfancies,butthisonesticks.''Thefearofdiscovery?'Jessennodded.'It'stheonlyfollyleft—thisfear.It'stheflyintheointment.'He led the way through the narrow passage, first having extinguished thelamp.Theystoodtogetherinthedarkstreet,whilstJessenmadesurethefasteningofthehouse.'Now,'hesaid,andinafewminutestheyfoundthemselvesamidsttheraucousconfusionofaWalworthRoadmarket-night.Theywalkedoninsilence,thenturningintoEastStreet,theythreadedawaybetween loitering shoppers, dodged between stalls overhung by flaringnaphthalamps,andturnedsharplyintoanarrowstreet.Both men seemed sure of their ground, for they walked quickly andunhesitatingly, and striking off through a tiny court that connected onemalodorous thoroughfarewith theother, they stopped simultaneouslybeforethedoorofwhatappearedtobeadisusedfactory.Apeaky-facedyouthwhosatby thedoorandactedasdoorkeeper thrusthis

handforwardastheyentered,butrecognizingthemdrewbackwithoutaword.Theyascendedtheflightofill-lightedstairsthatconfrontedthem,andpushingopenadoorattheheadofthestairs,Jessenusheredhisfriendintoalargehall.Itwasacuriousscenethatmetthejournalist'seye.Wellacquaintedwith'TheGuild'ashewas,andwithitsextraordinarycomposition,hehadneveryetputhis foot inside its portals. Basing his conception upon his knowledge ofworking-men's clubs and philanthropic institutions for the regeneration ofdegraded youth, he missed the inevitable billiard-table; he missed, too, thetablestrewnwithmonth-oldliterature,butmostofallhemissedthesmelloffreecoffee.The floor was covered with sawdust, and about the fire that crackled andblazed at one endof the room therewas a semicircle of chairs occupiedbymen of varying ages. Old-looking young men and young-looking old men,men in rags, men well dressed, men flashily attired in loud clothing andresplendentwithshoddyjewellery.Andtheyweredrinking.Twoyouths atoneendof the crescent sharedaquartpewterpot; the flashymanwhosevoicedominated the conversationheld a glass ofwhisky in oneberingedhand,and thewhite-hairedmanwith thescarred facewhosatwithbowedheadlisteninghadaspiritglasshalffilledwithsomecolourlessfluid.Nobodyrosetogreetthenewcomers.Theflashymannoddedgenially,andoneofthecirclepushedhischairbacktogiveplacetoJessen.'Iwasjusta-saying—'saidtheflashyman,thenlookedatCharles.'Allright,'signalledJessen.'I was just a-sayin' to these lads,' continued the flashy one, 'that takin' onethingwiththeother,there'sworseplacesthan"stir".'Jessenmadenoreplytothispieceofdogmatism,andheoftheringswenton.'An'what'sthegoodofamantryin'togostraight.Thepolicewillpullyouallthesame:notreportin'changeofaddress,loiteringwithintent;itdon'tmatterwhatyoudoifyou'vebeenintroubleonce,you'resuretogetinagain.'Therewasamurmurofassent.'Lookatme,'saidthespeakerwithpride.'I'venevertriedtogostraight—beenintwicean'ittooksixpolicementotakemelasttime,andtheyhadtousethe"stick".'Jessenlookedathimwithmildcuriosity.'Whatdoesthatprove,exceptthatthepolicemenwereprettysoft?''Notabit!'Themanstoodup.

Under theveneerof tawdry foppery,Charlesdetected theanimalstrengthofthecriminal.'Why,whenI'mfit,asIamnow,'themanwenton,'thereain'ttwopolicemen,norfourneither,thatcouldhandleme.'Jessen'shandshotoutandcaughthimbytheforearm.'Getaway,'hesuggested,andthemanswungroundlikelightning,butJessenhadhisotherarminagripofiron.'Getaway,'hesaidagain;but themanwashelpless,andknewit,andafterapauseJessenreleasedhishold.'Howwasthat?'heasked.Theamusedsmilesofthemendidnotembarrasstheprisoner.'Theguv'nor'sdifferent,'heexplainedeasily;'he'sgotaknackofhisownthatthepolicehaven'tgot.'Jessen drew up a chair, and whatever there was in the action that hadsignificance,itwassufficienttoprocureanimmediatesilence.Helookedroundtheattentivefacesthatwereturnedtowardhim.Charles,aninterestedspectator,sawtheeagerfacesthatbentinhisfriend'sdirection,andmarvellednotalittleatthereproductivequalitiesoftheseedhehadsown.Jessenbegan to speak slowly, andCharles saw thatwhathe saidwas in thenatureofanaddress.ThattheseaddressesofJessenwerenothingunusual,andthattheywerewelcome,wasevidentfromtheattentionwithwhichtheywerereceived.'What Falk has been telling you,' said Jessen, indicating the man with therings,'istrue—sofarasitgoes.Thereareworseplacesthan"stir",andit'struethat thepolicedon'tgiveanold lagachance,but that'sbecausea lagwon'tchangehisjob.Andalagwon'tchangehisjob,becausehedoesn'tknowanyother trade where he gets money so quickly. Wally'—he jerked his headtowardaweedy-lookingyouth—'Wallytheregotastretchforwhat?Forstuffthatfetchedthirtypoundsfromafence.Twelvemonths'hardworkforthirtypounds! It works out at about 10s, 6d. a week. And his lawyer and themouthpiece cost him a fiver out of that.OldmanGarth'—hepointed to thewhite-headedmanwiththegin—'didafivestretchforlessthanthat,andhe'soutonbrief.Hiswageworksoutataboutashillingaweek.'HecheckedtheimpatientmotionthatFalkmade.'I know that Falkwould say,' hewent on smoothly, 'thatwhat I'm saying isoutside the bargain; when I fixed up the Guild, I gavemy 'davy that therewouldn't be any parson talk or Come All-ye-Faithful singing. Everybodyknows thatbeingon thecrook'samug'sgame,andIdon'twant to rub it in.

WhatI'vealwayssaidanddoneisinthedirectionofmakingyoufellowsearnbiggermoneyatyourowntrade.'There'samanwhowritesaboutthearmywho'sbeentryingtoinducesoldierstolearntrades,andhestartedrightbymakingtheTommiesdissatisfiedwiththeirowntrade;andthatiswhatIamtryingtodo.WhatdidIdowithyoungIsaacs?Ididn'tpreachathim,andIdidn'tprayoverhim.IkewasoneofthefinestsnidemerchantsinLondon.Heusedtoturnouthalf-crownsmadefrompewterpotsthatdefieddetection.Theyrangtrueandtheydidn'tbend.Ikegotthreeyears,andwhenhecameoutIfoundhimajob.DidItrytomakehimawood-chopper,oraSalvationArmyplough-boy?No.He'dhavebeenbackonthecrookinaweekifIhad.IgotafirmofmedalmakersinBirminghamtotake him, andwhen Ike found himself amongst plastermoulds and electricbaths,anddiscoveredhecouldworkathisowntradehonestly,hestucktoit.''Weain'tsnidemerchants,'growledFalkdiscontentedly.'It'sthesamewithallbranches,'Jessenwenton,'onlyyouchapsdon'tknowit.Taketale-pitching—'It would not be fair to follow Jessen through the elaborate disquisition bywhichheprovedto thesatisfactionofhisaudience that the 'confidence'manwasaborncommercial traveller.Manyofhisargumentswereasunsoundastheycouldwellbe;heignoredfirstprinciples,andglossedoverwhatseemedto such a clear-headed hearer as Charles to be insuperable obstacles in theschemeof regeneration.Buthisaudiencewasconvinced.The fringeofmenroundthefirewasreinforcedashecontinued.Mencameintotheroomsingly,and in twos and threes, and added themselves to the group at the fire. ThenewshadspreadthatJessenwastalking—theycalledhim'Mr.Long,'bytheway—andsomeofthenewcomersarrivedbreathlessly,asthoughtheyhadruninorderthatnopartoftheaddressshouldbemissed.Thattheadvocateofdiscontenthadsucceededininstallingintothemindsofhishearers thatunrest anddissatisfactionwhichheheld tobe thebasisof anewmoralcode,wascertain.Forevery facebore thestampof introspectivedoubt.Interestingasitallwas,CharlesGarretthadnotlostsightoftheobjectofhisvisit,andhefidgetedalittleasthespeakerproceeded.Immediately on entering the room he had grasped the exact relationship inwhichJessenstoodtohispupils.Jessenheknewcouldputnodirectquestionas to their knowledge of the Four Just Men without raising a feeling ofsuspicion which would have been fatal to the success of the mission, andindeedwouldhaveimperilledtheveryexistenceofthe'Guild'.It was when Jessen had finished speaking, and had answered a dozen

questions fired simultaneously fromadozenquarters, andhad answered thequestions thathadarisenoutof thesequeries, thatanopeningcamefromanunexpectedquarter.For,with theseriousbusinessof themeetingdisposedof, thequestions tooktheinevitablefacetiousturn.'What tradewould you give the Four JustMen?' asked Falk flippantly, andtherewasalittlerumbleoflaughter.Thejournalist'seyesmetthereformer'sforonesecond,andthroughthemindsof both men flashed the answer. Jessen's mouth twitched a little, and hisrestlesshandswereevenmoreagitatedasherepliedslowly:'IfanybodycantellmeexactlywhattheFourJustMen—whattheirparticularlineofbusinessis,Icouldreplytothat.'Itwastheoldmansippinghisgininsilencewhospokeforthefirsttime.'D'yerememberBillyMarks?'heasked.Hisvoicewasharsh,asisthatofamanwhouseshisvoiceatrareintervals.'BillyMarksisdead,'hecontinued,'deaderthanadoor-nail.HeknewtheFourJustMen;pinchedthewatchan'thenotebookofonean'nearlypinchedthem.'TherewasamanwhosatnexttoFalkwhohadbeenregardingCharleswithfurtiveattention.Nowhe turned to Jessenandspoke to thepoint. 'Don'tgetany idea inyourheadthatthelikesofuswilleverhaveanythingtodowiththeFour,'hesaid.'Why,Mr.Long,'hewenton,'theFourJustMenareaslikelytocometoyouastous;bein'asyouareagovernmentofficial,it'sverylikelyindeed.'Again Jessen andCharles exchanged a swift glance, and in the eyes of thejournalistwasastrangelight.Suppose they came to Jessen! Itwas not unlikely.Once before, in pursuingtheirvengeance inaSouthAmericanState, theyhadcometosuchamanasJessen.Itwasathought,andoneworthfollowing.Turning the possibilities over in hismind Charles stood deep in thought asJessen,stillspeaking,washelpedintohisovercoatbyoneofthemen.Then as they left the hall together, passing the custodian of the place at thefootofthestairs,thejournalistturnedtohiscompanion.'Shouldtheycometoyou—?'Jessenshookhishead.'Thatisunlikely,'hesaid;'theyhardlyrequireoutsidehelp.'

Theywalkedtherestofthewayinsilence.CharlesshookhandsatthedoorofJessen'shouse.'Ifbyanychancetheyshouldcome—'hesaid.Jessenlaughed.'Iwillletyouknow,'hesaidalittleironically.Thenheenteredhishouse,andCharlesheardagainthesnapofthelockasthestrangemanclosedthedoorbehindhim.Within twenty-four hours the newspapers recorded the mysteriousdisappearanceofaMr.J.Long,ofPresleyStreet.Suchadisappearancewouldhavebeenwithoutinterest,butforanotethatwasfoundonhistable.Itran:Mr.Longbeingnecessaryforourpurpose,wehavetakenhim.

THEFOURJUSTMENThat the affair had connection with the Four was sufficient to give it anextraordinarynewsvalue.Thatthepresswasconfoundedgoeswithoutsaying.ForMr.Longwas a fairlyunimportantmanwith some self-education and acraze for reforming the criminal classes.But theHomeOffice,which knewMr.Long as 'Mr. Jessen',was greatly perturbed, and the genius of ScotlandYardwasemployedtodiscoverhiswhereabouts.

IV. —THEREDBEAN

THE Inner Council sent out an urgent call to the men who administer theaffairsoftheRedHundred.Starque came, Francois, the Frenchman, came, Hollom, the Italian, PaulMirtisky, George Grabe, the American, and Lauder Bartholomew, the ex-captainofIrregularCavalry,camealso.Bartholomewwasthebestdressedofthemenwhogatheredabout thegreentable inGreekStreet, forhehadheldtheKing's commission, which is of itself a sartorial education. Peoplewhomethimvaguelyrememberedhisnameandfrowned.Theyhadadimideathattherewas'somethingagainsthim',butwerenotquitesurewhatitwas.IthadtodowiththeSouthAfricanWarandasurrender—notanordinarysurrender,but an arrangementwith the enemyon a cashbasis, and the transferenceofstores. There was a court martial, and a cashiering, and afterwardsBartholomewcametoEnglandandbombardedfirst theWarOfficeand thenthepresswithasheafoftype-writtengrievances.Afterwardshewentintothetheatrical line of business and appeared in music-hall sketches as 'Captain

LauderBartholomew—theHeroofDopfontein'.There were other chapters which made good reading, for he figured in adivorce case, ran a society newspaper, owned a few selling platers, andachieved the distinctionof appearing in theRacingCalendarm a paragraphwhichsolemnlyandofficiallyforbadehispresenceonNewmarketHeath.ThatheshouldfigureontheInnerCounciloftheRedHundredisremarkableonly in so far as it demonstrates how much out of touch with Britishsentiments and conditions is the average continental politician. ForBartholomew'ssecretapplicationtobeenrolledamemberoftheRedHundredhad been receivedwith acclamation and his promotion to the InnerCouncilhadbeenrapid.WashenotanEnglishofficer—anaristocrat?Amemberofthemost exclusive circle of English society? Thus argued theRedHundred, towhom a subaltern in a scallywag corps did not differ perceptibly from aCommanderoftheHouseholdCavalry.Bartholomewliedhiswaytothecircle,becausehefound,ashehadallalongsuspected,thattherewasastrongbusinessendtoterrorism.Thereweregrantsforsecretservicework,andwithhisfertileimaginationitwasnotdifficulttofind excuses and reasons for approaching the financial executiveof theRedHundredatfrequentintervals.Heclaimedintimacywithroyalpersonages.Henot only stated as a fact that he was in their confidence, but he suggestedfamilytieswhichreflectedlittlecredituponhisprogenitors.TheRedHundredwasapayingspeculation;membershipoftheInnerCouncilwas handsomely profitable. He had drawn a bow at a venture when underdistress—literally it was a distress warrant issued at the instance of animportunatelandlord—hehadinditedalettertoarevolutionaryofferingtoactasLondonagentforanorganizationwhichwasthenknownasTheFriendsofthePeople,butwhichhassincebeenabsorbedintothebodycorporateoftheRedHundred. It is necessary to deal fullywith the antecedents of thismanbecause he played a part in the events that are chronicled in theCouncil ofJustice thathadeffects further reaching thanBartholomew, themercenaryofanarchism,couldinhiswildestmomentshaveimagined.Hewasoneoftheseventhatgatheredinthedingydrawing-roomofaGreekStreet boarding-house, and it was worthy of note that five of his fellowsgreeted him with a deference amounting to humility. The exception wasStarque,who,arrivinglate,foundanadmiringcirclehanginguponthewordsofthisyoungmanwiththeshiftyeyes,andhefrownedhisdispleasure.BartholomewlookedupasStarqueenteredandnoddedcarelessly.Starquetookhisplaceattheheadofthetable,andmotionedimpatientlytotheotherstobeseated.One,whosedutyitwas,rosefromhischairandlockedthedoor. The windows were shuttered, but he inspected the fastenings; then,

taking fromhis pocket two packs of cards, he scattered them in a confusedheapupon the table.Everymanproducedahandfulofmoneyandplaced itbeforehim.StarquewasaningeniousmanandhadlearntmanythingsinRussia.Menwhogatherroundagreenbaize-coveredtablewithlockeddoorsareapttobedealtwithsummarily ifnoadequateexcuse for theirpresence isevident,and it ismore satisfactory to be fined a hundred roubles for gambling than to bedraggedoffatamoment'snoticetoanindefiniteperiodoflabourintheminesonsuspicionofbeingconcernedinarevolutionaryplot.Starque now initiated the business of the evening. If the truth be told, therewas little in the earlier proceedings that differed from the procedure of thetypicalcommittee.Thereweremonies to be voted. Bartholomew needed supplies for a trip toParis, where, as the guest of an Illustrious Personage, he hoped to secureinformationofvitalimportancetotheHundred.'Thisisthefourthvoteintwomonths,comrade,'saidStarquetestily,'lasttimeit was for information from your Foreign Office, which proved to beinaccurate.'Bartholomewshruggedhisshoulderswithanassumptionofcarelessness.'Ifyoudoubtthewisdomofvotingthemoney,letitpass,'hesaid;'mymenflyhigh—Iamnotbribingpolicemenorsous-officiersofdiplomacy.''Itisnotaquestionofmoney,'saidStarquesullenly,'itisaquestionofresults.Money we have in plenty, but the success of our glorious demonstrationdependsuponthereliabilityofourinformation.'The vote was passed, and with its passing came a grim element into thecouncil.Starqueleantforwardandloweredhisvoice.Therearemattersthatneedyourimmediateattention,'hesaid.Hetookapaperfromhispocket,andsmootheditopeninfrontofhim.'Wehavebeensolonginactive that the tyrants towhom thenameofRedHundred is fullof terror,havecometoregardthemselvesasimmunefromdanger.Yet,'hisvoicesanklower, 'yetwe are on the eve of the greatest of our achievements,when theoppressors of the people shall bemoved at one blow!Andwewill strike ablowatkingshipasshallberememberedinthehistoryoftheworldaye,whenthevictoriesofCaesarandAlexanderareforgottenandwhenthescenesofouractsareoverlaidwith thedustanddebrisofa thousandyears.But thatgreatday is not yet—firstwemust remove the lessermen that theblowmay fallsurer;firsttheservant,thenthemaster.'Hestabbedthelistbeforehimwithathickforefinger.

'FritzvonHedlitz,'heread,'ChancellortotheDuchyofHamburg-Altoona.'Helookedroundtheboardandsmiled.'Amanofsomeinitiative,comrades—hefoiledourattemptonhismasterwithsomecunning—doIinterpretyourdesirewhenIsay—death?''Death!'Itwasalowmurmuredchorus.Bartholomew,renegadeandadventurer,saiditmechanically.Itwasnothingtohimabravegentlemanshoulddiefornootherreasonthanthathehadservedhismasterfaithfully.'MarquisdeSanto-Strato,privatesecretarytothePrinceoftheEscorial,'readStarque.'Death!'Againthemurmuredsentence.One by one, Starque read the names, stopping now and again to emphasizesomeenormityofthemanunderreview.'HereisHendrikHoussmann,'hesaid,tappingthepaper,'oftheBerlinSecretPolice: an interferingman and a dangerousone.Hehas already secured thearrestandpunishmentofoneofourcomrades.''Death,'murmuredthecouncilmechanically.Thelisttookhalfanhourtodisposeof.'Thereisanothermatter,'saidStarque.The council moved uneasily, for that other matter was uppermost in everymind.'Bysomemeanswehavebeenbetrayed,'thechairmanwenton,andhisvoicelacked that confidence which characterized his earlier speech; 'there is anorganization—anorganizationof reaction—whichhas set itself to thwartus.Thatorganizationhasdiscoveredouridentity.'Hepausedalittle.'This morning I received a letter which named me president of the InnerCouncilandthreatenedme.'Againhehesitated.'Itwassigned"TheFourJustMen".'Hisstatementwasreceivedindeadsilence—asilencethatperplexedhim,forhiscompensation for theshockhehad receivedhadbeen theanticipationofthesensationhisannouncementwouldmake.Hewassoonenlightenedastothecauseofthesilence.'Ialsohavereceivedaletter,'saidFrancoisquietly.'AndI.'

'AndI.''AndI.'OnlyBartholomewdidnotspeak,andhefelt theunspokenaccusationoftheothers.'I have received no letter,' he said with an easy laugh—'only these.' Hefumbledinhiswaistcoatpocketandproducedtwobeans.Therewasnothingpeculiarinthesesaveonewasanaturalblackandtheotherhadbeendyedred.'Whatdotheymean?'demandedStarquesuspiciously.'Ihavenot the slightest idea,' saidBartholomewwithacontemptuoussmile;'they came in a little box, such as jewellery is sent in, and wereunaccompanied either by letter or anything of the kind. These mysteriousmessagesdonotgreatlyalarmme.''Butwhatdoesitmean?'persistedStarque,andeveryneckwascranedtowardtheseeds;'theymusthavesomesignificance—think.'Bartholomewyawned.'SofarasIknow,theyarebeyondexplanation,'hesaidcarelessly;'neitherrednorblackbeanshaveplayedanyconspicuouspartinmylife,sofarasI—'He stopped short and they saw awave of colour rush to his face, then dieaway,leavingitdeadlypale.'Well?'demandedStarque;therewasamenaceinthequestion.'Letmesee,' falteredBartholomew,andhetookuptheredbeanwithahandthatshook.Heturneditoverandoverinhishand,callinguphisreserveofstrength.Hecouldnotexplain,thatmuchherealized.Theexplanationmighthavebeenpossiblehadherealizedearlierthepurportof the message he had received, but nowwith six pairs of suspicious eyesturneduponhim,andwithhisconfusiondulynotedhishesitationwouldtellagainsthim.Hehadtoinventastorythatwouldpassmuster.'Years ago,' hebegan, holdinghisvoice steady, 'Iwas amemberof such anorganizationasthis:and—andtherewasatraitor.'Thestorywasplaintohimnow,andherecoveredhisbalance.'Thetraitorwasdiscoveredandweballotedfor his life. There was an equal number for death and immunity, and I aspresidenthadtogivethecastingvote.Aredbeanwasforlifeandablackfordeath—andIcastmyvotefortheman'sdeath.'

He saw the impression his invention had created and elaborated the story.Starque,holdingtheredbeaninhishand,examineditcarefully.'IhavereasontothinkthatbymyactionImademanyenemies,oneofwhomprobablysentthisreminder.'Hebreathedaninwardsighofreliefashesawthecloudsofdoubtliftingfromthefacesabouthim.Then—'Andthe£1,000?'askedStarquequietly.NobodysawBartholomewbitehislip,becausehishandwascaressinghissoftblack moustache. What they all observed was the well simulated surpriseexpressedintheliftofhiseyebrows.'Thethousandpounds?'hesaidpuzzled,thenhelaughed.'Oh,Iseeyou,too,haveheardthestory—wefoundthetraitorhadacceptedthatsumtobetrayus—andthisweconfiscatedfor thebenefitof theSociety—andrightlyso,'headded,indignantly.Themurmur of approbation relieved him of any fear as to the result of hisexplanation.EvenStarquesmiled.'Ididnotknowthestory,'hesaid,'butIdidseethe"£1,000"whichhadbeenscratched on the side of the red bean; but this brings us no nearer to thesolutionofthemystery.WhohasbetrayedustotheFourJustMen?'Therecame,ashespoke,agentletappingonthedooroftheroom.Francois,whosatatthepresident'srighthand,rosestealthilyandtiptoedtothedoor.'Whoisthere?'heaskedinalowvoice.SomebodyspokeinGerman,andthevoicecarriedsothateverymanknewthespeaker.'TheWomanofGratz,'saidBartholomew,andinhiseagernessherosetohisfeet.IfonesoughtforthecauseoffrictionbetweenStarqueandtheex-captainofIrregularCavalry,herewastheendofthesearch.Theflamethatcametotheeyesofthesetwomenassheenteredtheroomtoldthestory.Starque,heavilymade,animalmantohisfingertips,rosetogreether,hisfaceaglow.'Madonna,'hemurmured,andkissedherhand.Shewasdressedwellenough,witharichsablecoat that fitted tightly tohersinuousfigure,andafurtoqueuponherbeautifulhead.SheheldaglovedhandtowardBartholomewandsmiled.Bartholomew,likehisrival,hadawaywithwomen;butitwasagentleway,overladen withWestern conventions and hedged about with set proprieties.Thathewasacontemptiblevillainaccordingtoourconceptionsistrue,buthe

hadreceivedarudimentarytrainingintheworldofgentlemen.Hehadmovedamongstmenwhotooktheirhatsofftotheirwomenkind,andwhocontrolledtheir actions by a nebulous code.Yet he behavedwith greater extravagancethan did Starque, for he held her hand in his, looking into her eyes, whilstStarquefidgetedimpatiently.'Comrade,' at last he said testily, 'we will postpone our talk with our littleMaria.Itwouldbebadforhertothinkthatsheisholdingusfromourwork—andtherearetheFour—'Hesawhershiver.'TheFour?'sherepeated.'Thentheyhavewrittentoyou,also?'Starquebroughthisfistwithacrashdownonthetable.'You—you!Theyhavedaredthreatenyou?ByHeaven—''Yes,'shewenton,anditseemedthatherrichsweetvoicegrewalittlehusky;'theyhavethreatened—me.'Sheloosenedthefursatherthroatasthoughtheroomhadsuddenlybecomehotandtheatmosphereunbreathable.ThetorrentofwordsthatcametumblingtothelipsofStarquewasarrestedbythelookinherface.'Itisn'tdeaththatIfear,'shewentonslowly;'indeed,IscarcelyknowwhatIfear.'Bartholomew, superficial and untouched by the tragicmystery of her voice,brokeinupontheirsilence.Forsilencedtheywerebythegirl'sdistress.'Withsuchmenasweabout,whyneedyounoticethetheatricalplayoftheseFour JustMen?' he asked, with a laugh; then he remembered the two littlebeansandbecamesuddenlysilentwiththerest.So complete and inexplicablewas the chill that had come to themwith thepronouncementofthenameoftheirenemy,andsoabsolutelydidthespectacleoftheWomanofGratzonthevergeoftearsmovethem,thattheyheardthenwhatnonehadheardbefore-thetickingoftheclock.ItwasthehabitofmanyyearsthatcarriedBartholomew'shandtohispocket,mechanicallyhedrewouthiswatch,andautomaticallyhecasthiseyesabouttheroomfortheclockwherewithtocheckthetime.It was one of those incongruous pieces of commonplace that intrude upontragedy,butitloosenedthetonguesofthecouncil,andtheyallspoketogether.It was Starque who gathered the girl's trembling hands between his plumppalms.'Maria,Maria,'hechidedsoftly,'thisisfolly.What!theWomanofGratzwho

defiedallRussia—whostoodbeforeMirtowskyandbadehimdefiance—whatisit?'ThelastwordsweresharpandangryandweredirectedtoBartholomew.ForthesecondtimethatnighttheEnglishman'sfacewaswhite,andhestoodclutching the edge of the table with staring eyes and with his lower jawdrooping.'God,man!' criedStarque, seizinghimby thearm, 'what is it—speak—youarefrighteningher!''Theclock!'gaspedBartholomewinahollowvoice,'where—whereistheclock?'Hisstaringeyeswanderedhelplesslyfromsidetoside.'Listen,'hewhispered,andtheyheldtheirbreath.Veryplainlyindeeddidtheyhearthe'tick—tick—tick.''Itisunderthetable,'mutteredFrancois.Starqueseized theclothand lifted it.Underneath, in theshadow,hesaw theblack box and heard the ominous whir of clockwork. 'Out!' he roared andsprangtothedoor.Itwaslockedandfromtheoutside.Again and again he flung his huge bulk against the door, but themenwhopressed round him, whimpering and slobbering in their pitiable fright,crowdedabouthimandgavehimnoroom.Withhisstrongarmshethrewthemasideleftandright;thenleaptatthedoor,bringingallhisweightandstrengthtobear,andthedoorcrashedopen.AloneofthepartytheWomanofGratzpreservedhercalm.Shestoodbythetable, her foot almost touching the accursedmachine, and she felt the faintvibrationsofitsworking.ThenStarquecaughtherupinhisarmsandthroughthenarrowpassagehehalfled,halfcarriedher,tilltheyreachedthestreetinsafety.The passing pedestrians saw the dishevelled group, and, scenting trouble,gatheredaboutthem.'Whatwasit?Whatwasit?'whisperedFrancois,butStarquepushedhimasidewithasnarl.A taxi was passing and he called it, and lifting the girl inside, he shouteddirectionsandspranginafterher.As the taxi whirled away, the bewildered Council looked from one to theother.Theyhadleftthedoorofthehousewideopenandinthehallaflickeringgas-jetgyratedwildly.

'Getawayfromhere,'saidBartholomewbeneathhisbreath.'Butthepapers—therecords,'saidtheotherwringinghishands.Bartholomewthoughtquickly.Therecordsweresuchascouldnotbeleftlyingaboutwithimpunity.Forallheknewthesemadmenhadimplicatedhimintheirinfernalwritings.Hewasnotwithoutcourage,butitneededallhepossessedtore-entertheroomwherealittlemachineinablackboxtickedmysteriously.'Wherearethey?'hedemanded.'On the table,' almost whispered the other. 'MonDieux!what disaster!' TheEnglishmanmadeuphismind.Hesprangupthethreestepsintothehall.Twopacesbroughthimtothedoor,another stride to the table. He heard the 'tick' of themachine, he gave oneglance to the table and another to the floor, andwas out again in the streetbeforehehadtakentwolongbreaths.Francoisstoodwaiting,therestofthemenhaddisappeared.'Thepapers!thepapers!'criedtheFrenchman.'Gone!'repliedBartholomewbetweenhisteeth.Lessthanahundredyardsawayanotherconferencewasbeingheld.'Manfred,'saidPoiccartsuddenly—therehadbeenalullinthetalk—'shallweneedourfriend?'Manfredsmiled.'MeaningtheadmirableMr.Jessen?'Poiccartnodded.'Ithinkso,'saidManfredquietly;'Iamnotsosurethatthecheapalarm-clockweputinthebiscuitboxwillbeasufficientwarningtotheInnerCouncil—hereisLeon.'Gonsalezwalkedintotheroomandremovedhisovercoatdeliberately.Then they saw that the sleeve of his dress coat was torn, and Manfredremarkedthestainedhandkerchiefthatwaslightlyboundroundonehand.'Glass,'explainedGonsalezlaconically.'Ihadtoscaleawall.''Well?'askedManfred.'Verywell,'repliedtheother; 'theyboltedlikesheep,andIhadnothingtodobut towalk in and carry away the extremely interesting record of sentencestheyhavepassed.''WhatofBartholomew?'Gonsalezwasmildlyamused. 'Hewas lesspanickythantherest—hecamebacktolookforthepapers.''Willhe—?'

'Ithinkso,'saidLeon.'Inoticedhelefttheblackbeanbehindhiminhisflight—soIpresumeweshallseethered.''Itwillsimplifymatters,'saidManfredgravely.

V. —THECOUNCILOFJUSTICE

LAUDER BARTHOLOMEW knew a man who was farming in Uganda. Itwasnot remarkable thathe should suddenly rememberhis friend's existenceandcalltomindathreeyears'oldinvitationtospendawinterinthatpartofAfrica.Bartholomewhadaclub.Itwaseuphemisticallystyledinall thebestdirectories as 'Social, Literary andDramatic', but knowingmen about towncalled it by a shorter title.To them itwas a 'night club'.Poorly aswere theliterarymembers catered for, therewere certainweeklies,TheTimes, and acollection of complimentary timetables to be obtained for the asking, andBartholomewsoughtandfoundparticularsofsailings.HemightleaveLondonon the nextmorning and overtake (viaBrindisi and Suez) theGerman boatthatwouldlandhiminUgandainacoupleofweeks.Onthewholehethoughtthiscoursewouldbewise.To tell the truth, the Red Hundred was becoming too much of a seriousbusiness;hehadafeelingthathewassuspect,andwasmorecertainthattheend of his unlimited financing was in sight. That much he had long sincerecognized,andhadmadehisplansaccordingly.AstotheFourJustMen,theywould come in with Menshikoff; it would mean only a duplication oftreachery.TurningthepagesofaBradshaw,hementallyreviewedhisposition.He had in hand some seven hundred pounds, and his liabilities were of noaccount because the necessity for discharging them never occurred to him.Sevenhundredpounds—andtheredbean,andMenshikoff.'Iftheymeanbusiness,'hesaidtohimself,'Icancountonthreethousand.'The obvious difficulty was to get into touch with the Four. Time waseverythingandonecouldnotputanadvertisementinthepaper:'IftheFourJustMenwillcommunicatewithL—B—theywillhearofsomethingtotheiradvantage.'NorwasitexpedienttomakeintheagonycolumnsoftheLondonpresseventhe most guarded reference to Red Beans after what had occurred at theCouncilMeeting.ThematteroftheEmbassywassimple.UnderhisbreathhecursedtheFourJustMenfortheirunbusinesslikecommunication.Ifonlytheyhad mentioned or hinted at some rendezvous the thing might have beenarranged.

Amanineveningdressaskedhimifhehadfinishedwith theBradshaw.Heresigneditungraciously,andcallingaclubwaiter,orderedawhiskyandsodaandflunghimselfintoachairtothinkoutasolution.ThemanreturnedtheBradshawwithapoliteapology.'Sosorrytohaveinterrupted,butI'vebeencalledabroadatamoment'snotice,'hesaid.Bartholomewlookedupresentfully.Thisyoungman'sfaceseemedfamiliar.'Haven'tImetyousomewhere?'heasked.Thestrangershruggedhisshoulders.'Oneisalwaysmeetingandforgetting,'hesmiled.'IthoughtIknewyou,butIcannotquiteplaceyou.'Notonlythefacebutthevoicewasstrangelyfamiliar.'Not English,' was Bartholomew's mental analysis, 'possibly French, morelikelySlav—whothedickenscanitbe?'Inawayhewasgladofthediversion,andfoundhimselfengagedinapleasantdiscussiononflyfishing.Asthehandsoftheclockpointedtomidnight,thestrangeryawnedandgotupfromhischair.'Goingwest?'heaskedpleasantly.Bartholomewhadnodefiniteplansforspendingthenexthour,soheassentedandthetwomenlefttheclubtogether.TheystrolledacrossPiccadillyCircusandintoPiccadilly,chattingpleasantly.ThroughHalfMoonStreetintoBerkeleySquare,desertedandsilent,thetwomensauntered,thenthestrangerstopped.TmafraidI'vetakenyououtofyourway,' he said. 'Not a bit,' replied Bartholomew, and was conventionallyamiable.Thentheyparted,andtheex-captainwalkedbackbythewayhehadcome,pickingupagainthethreadsoftheproblemthathadfilledhismindintheearlierpartoftheevening.HalfwaydownHalfMoonStreetwasamotor-car,andashecameabreast,aman who stood by the curb—and whom he had mistaken for a waitingchauffeur—barred his further progress. 'Captain Bartholomew?' he askedrespectfully.'Thatismyname,'saidtheotherinsurprise.'Mymasterwishestoknowwhetheryouhavedecided.''What—?''If,'went onhis imperturbable examiner, 'if youhavedecidedon the red—hereisthecar,ifyouwillbepleasedtoenter.''AndifIhavedecidedontheblack?'heaskedwithalittle

hesitation.'Under the circumstances,' said the man without emotion, 'my master is ofopinionthatforhisgreatersafety,hemusttakestepstoensureyourneutrality.'Therewas nomenace in the tone, but an icymatter-of-fact confidence thatshockedthishardenedadventurer.Inthedimlighthesawsomethingintheman'shand—athinbrightsomethingthatglittered.'Itshallbered!'hesaidhoarsely.Themanbowedandopenedthedoorofthecar.Bartholomewhadregaineda littleofhisself-assuranceby the timehestoodbeforethemen.Hewas not unused tomasked tribunals. There had been one such since hiselevationtotheInnerCouncil.But these four men were in evening dress, and the stagey setting that hadcharacterized theRedHundred'sCourt of Justicewas absent. Therewas noweirdadjustmentoflights,orrollingsofbells,orpartingsofsombredraperies.NoneofthecheaptrickeryoftheInnerCouncil.The room was evidently a drawing-room, very much like a hundred otherdrawing-roomshehadseen.Thefourmenwhosatatequaldistancebeforehimweresufficientlyordinaryinappearancesavefortheirmasks.Hethoughtoneofthemworeabeard,buthewasnotsure.Thismandidmostofthespeaking.'Iunderstand,'hesaidsmoothly,'youhavechosenthered.''Youseemtoknowagreatdealaboutmyprivateaffairs,'repliedBartholomew.'Youhavechosenthered—again?'saidtheman.'Why—again?'demandedtheprisoner.Themaskedman'seyesshonesteadilythroughtheholesinthemask.'Yearsago,'hesaidquietly,'therewasanofficerwhobetrayedhiscountryandhiscomrades.''Thatisanoldlie.''Hewasinchargeofapostatwhichwasstoredagreatsupplyoffoodstuffsandammunition,'themaskwenton. 'Therewasacommandantoftheenemywhowantedthosestores,buthadnotsufficientmentorushthegarrison.''Anoldlie,'repeatedBartholomewsullenly.'Sothecommandanthitupontheingeniousplanofofferingabribe.Itwasarisky thing, and in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, it

wouldhavebeenafutilebusiness.Indeed,IamsurethatIamunderstatingtheproportion—butthewilyoldcommandantknewhisman.'Thereisnonecessitytocontinue,'saidBartholomew.'Nocorrespondencepassed,'Manfredwenton;'ourofficerwastoocunningforthat,butitwasarrangedthattheofficer'sanswershouldbeconveyedthus.'HeopenedhishandandBartholomewsawtwobeans,oneredand theotherblack,reposinginthepalm.'The blackwas to be a refusal, the red an acceptance, the termswere to bescratchedonthesideoftheredbeanwithaneedle—andthesumagreedwas£1,000.'Bartholomewmadenoanswer.'Exactlythatsumweofferyoutoplaceusfromtimetotimeinpossessionofsuch information as we require concerning the movements of the RedHundred.''IfIrefuse?''Youwillnotrefuse,'repliedthemaskcalmly; 'youneedthemoney,andyouhaveevennowunderconsiderationaplanforcuttingyourselfadriftfromyourfriends.''Youknowsomuch—'begantheotherwithashrug.'I know a great deal. For instance, I know that you contemplate immediateflight—by theway, are you aware that the LucusWoerhmann is in dock atNapleswithaleakingboiler?'Bartholomewstarted,aswellhemight,fornobodybuthimselfknewthattheLucusWoerhmannwastheshiphehadhopedtoovertakeatSuez.Manfredsawhisbewildermentandsmiled.'Idonotaskcreditforsupernaturalpowers,'hesaid;'frankly,itwasthemerestguesswork,butyoumustabandonyourtrip.Itisnecessaryforourgreatersuccessthatyoushouldremain.'Bartholomew bit his lips. This scheme did not completely fall in with hisplans.Heaffectedasuddengeniality.'Well,ifImust,Imust,'hesaidheartily,'andsinceIagree,mayIaskwhomIhavethehonourofaddressing,andfurther,sinceIamnowyourconfidentialagent,thatImayseethefacesofmyemployers?'HerecognizedthecontemptinManfred'slaugh.'Youneednointroductiontous,'saidManfredcoldly,'andyouwillunderstandwe do not intend taking you into our confidence.Our agreement is thatweshareyourconfidence,notthatyoushallshareours.''I must know something,' said Bartholomew doggedly. 'What am I to do?WhereamItoreport!HowshallIbepaid?'

'Youwillbepaidwhenyourworkiscompleted.'Manfredreachedouthishandtowardalittletablethatstoodwithinhisreach.Instantlytheroomwasplungedintodarkness.Thetraitorsprangback,fearingheknewnotwhat.'Come—donotbeafraid,'saidavoice.'Whatdoesthismean?'criedBartholomew,andsteppedforward.Hefeltthefloorbeneathhimyieldandtriedtospringbackwards,butalreadyhe had lost his balance, andwith a scream of terror he felt himself falling,falling...'Here,wakeup!'Somebodywasshakinghisarmandhewasconsciousofanicycoldnessandagustyrawwindthatbuffetedhisface.Heshiveredandopenedhiseyes.Firstofallhesawanironcamelwithaloadonitsback;thenherealizeddimlythat itwas theornamental supportof agarden seat; thenhe sawadullgreyparapetofgrimystone.HewassittingonaseatontheThamesEmbankment,andapolicemanwasshakinghim,notungently,towakefulness.'Comealong,sir—thiswon'tdo,yeknow.'Hestaggeredtohisfeetunsteadily.Hewaswearingafurcoatthatwasnothis.'HowdidIcomehere?'heaskedinadullvoice.Thepolicemanlaughedgoodhumouredly.'Ah,that'smorethanIcantellyou—youweren'theretenminutesago,thatI'llswear.'Bartholomewputhishandinhispocketandfoundsomemoney.'Callmeataxi,'hesaidshakilyandonewasfound.Heleftthepolicemanperfectlysatisfiedwiththeresultofhismorning'sworkanddrovehometohislodgings.Bywhatextraordinarymeanshadhereachedthe Embankment? He remembered the Four, he remembered the suddenlydarkenedroom,herememberedfalling—Perhapshelostconsciousness,yethecould not have been injured by his fall. He had a faint recollection ofsomebodytellinghimtobreatheandofinhalingasweetsicklyvapour—andthatwasall.Thecoatwasnothis.Hethrusthishandsintobothpocketsandfoundaletter.Didhebutknowitwasofthepeculiartexturethathadmadethegreenish-greypaperoftheFourJustMenfamousthroughoutEurope.Theletterwasbriefandtothepoint:

Forfaithfulservice,youwillberewarded;fortreachery,therewillbenonettobreakyourfall.Heshiveredagain.Thenhisimpotence,hishelplessness,enragedhim,andhesworesoftlyandweakly.Hewasignorantofthelocalityinwhichtheinterviewhadtakenplace.Onhiswaythitherhehadtriedinvaintofollowthedirectiontheshutteredmotor-carhadtaken.BywhatmethodtheFourwouldconveytheirinstructionshehadnoidea.Hewasquitesatisfiedthattheywouldfindaway.HereachedhisflatwithhisheadswimmingfromtheeffectsoftheIdrugtheyhadgivenhim,andflunghimself,dressedashewas,uponhisbedandslept.He slept well into the afternoon, then rose stiff and irritable. A bath and achangerefreshedhim,andhewalkedouttokeepanappointmenthehadmade.OnhiswayherememberedimpatientlythattherewasacalltotheCouncilatfive o'clock. It reminded him of his old rehearsal days. Then he recollectedthatnoplacehadbeenfixedforthecouncilmeeting.HewouldfindthequietFrancoisinLeicesterSquare,soheturnedhisstepsinthatdirection.Francois,patient,smiling,andasdeferentialasever,awaitedhim.'Thecouncilwasheldattwoo'clock,'hesaid,'andIamtotellyouthatwehavedecidedontwoprojects.'Helookedleftandright,withelaboratedcaution.'There is atGravesend'—he pronounced it 'Gwayvse-end'—'a battleship thathasputinforstores.It istheGrondovitch.ItwillbefreshinyourmindthatthecaptainisthenoblemanSvardo—wehavenoreasontolovehim.''Andthesecond?'askedBartholomew.Again Francois went through the pantomime that had so annoyed hiscompanionbefore.'ItisnolessthantheBank,'hesaidtriumphantly.Bartholomewwasaghast.'TheBank—theBankofEngland!Why,you'remad—youhavetakenleaveofyoursenses!'Francoisshruggedhisshoulderstolerantly.'It is the order,' he said; then, abruptly, 'Au revoir,' he said, and, with hisextravagantlittlebow,wasgone.IfBartholomew'sneedforcuttinghimselfadriftfromtheRedHundredexistedbefore, the necessity was multiplied now a thousand times. Any lingeringdoubthemighthavehad,anyremotetwingeofconscienceattheparthewasplaying,thesevanished.

Heglancedathiswatch,andhurriedtohisdestination.ItwastheRedRoomoftheHotelLarbounethathesought.Hefoundatableandorderedadrink.Thewaiterwasunusuallytalkative.He stood by the solitary table at which Bartholomew sat, and chattedpleasantlyandrespectfully.Thismuchtheotherpatronsof theestablishmentnoticed idly, andwonderedwhether itwas racingorhouseproperty that thetwohadincommon.Thewaiterwastalking.'...IaminclinedtodisbelievethestoryoftheGrondovitch,buttheEmbassyandthecommandershallknow—whendoyouleave?''JustassoonasIcan,'saidBartholomew.The waiter nodded and flicked some cigarette ash from the table with hisnapkin.'AndtheWomanofGratz?'heasked.Bartholomewmadeagestureofdoubt.'Whynot,' said thewaiter, looking thoughtfullyoutof thewindow, 'whynottakeherwithyou?'TherehadbeenthegermofsuchathoughtinBartholomew'smind,buthehadnevergivenformtoit—eventohimself.'Sheisverybeautiful,and,itoccurredtome,notaltogetherindifferenttoyourattractions—thatkindofwomanhasapenchantforyourtype,andfranklywewouldgladlyseeheroutoftheway—ordead.'M.Menshikoffwasbynomeansvindictive,buttherewasobvioussincerityinhis voicewhenhepronounced the last twowords.M.Menshikoff hadbeenright-handmanoftheGrandMasteroftheSecretPolicefortoomanyyearstofeelanyqualmsattheprojectofremovinganenemytothesystem.'Ithoughtwehadheronce,'hesaidmeditatively;'theywouldhavefloggedherin the fortress of St Peter and Paul, but I stopped them. Shewas grateful Ithink,andalmosthuman...butitpassedoff.'Bartholomewpaidforhisdrink,andostentatiouslytippedtheobsequiousmanbefore him. He remembered as he did so that Menshikoff was reputedly amillionaire.'Your change, m'sieur,' saidMenshikoff gravely, and he handed back a fewjinglingcoppersand two tightly foldedbanknotes forahundredpounds.Hewasabeliever in theprincipleof 'payasyougo'Bartholomewpocketed themoneycarelessly.

'Goodday,'hesaidloudly.'Aurevoir,m'sieur,etbanvoyage',saidthewaiter.

VI. —PRINCESSREVOLUTIONARY

THEWoman ofGratzwas very human.But toBartholomew she seemed athingofice,passionless, justabeautifulwomanwhosatstifflyinastraight-backedchair,regardinghimwithcalm,questioningeyes.Theywereinherflatin Bloomsbury on the evening of the day following his interview withMenshikoff.Her coolness chilledhim, and strangled theverypassionof hisspeech,andwhathesaidcamehaltingly,andsoundedlameandunconvincing.'Butwhy?' thatwasall sheasked.Thricehehadpausedappealingly,hopingforencouragement,butheranswerhadbeenthesame.Hespoke incoherently,wildly.Thefearof theFouron theonehandand thedreadoftheRedsontheother,weregettingonhisnerves.Hesawachanceofescapefromboth,freedomfromthefour-walledcontrolofthese organizations, and before him the wide expanse of a tracklesswilderness,wherethevengeanceofneithercouldfollow.Edeninsight—hepleadedforanEve.Theverythoughtofthefreedomaheadovercamethedepressionhercoldnesslaiduponhim.'Maria—don'tyousee?Youarewastingyourlifedoingthisman'swork—thisassassin'swork.Youweremadeforloveandforme!'Hecaughtherhandandshe did notwithdraw it, but the palm he pressedwas unresponsive and thecurioussearchingeyesdidnotleavehisface.'Butwhy?'sheaskedagain. 'Andhow?Idonot loveyou, Ishallnever loveanyman—and there is thework for you and thework forme.There is thecauseandyouroath.Yourcomrades—'He started up and flung away her hand. For a moment he stood over her,gloweringdownatherupturnedface.'Work!—Comrades!'hegratedwithalaugh. 'D'yethinkI'mgoingtoriskmypreciousneckanyfurther?'He did not hear the door open softly, nor the footfall of the twomenwhoentered.'Areyoublind aswell asmad?' hewent onbrutally. 'Don't you see that thethingisfinished?TheFourJustMenhaveusallinthehollowoftheirhands!They'vegotuslikethat!'Hesnappedhisfingerscontemptuously.'Theyknow

everything—even to the attempt that is to be made on the Prince of theEscorials!Ha!thatstartlesyou—yetitistrue,everywordIsay—theyknow.''Ifitistrue,'shesaidslowly,'therehasbeenatraitor.'Hewavedhishandcarelessly,admittinganddismissingthepossibility.'Therearetraitorsalways—whenthepayfortreacheryisgood,'hesaideasily;'buttraitorornotraitor,Londonistoohotforyouandme.''Foryou,'correctedthegirl.'Andforyou,'hesaidsavagely;hesnatchedupherhandagain.'You'vegottocome—doyouhear—youbeautifulsnowwoman—you'vegot tocomewithme!'Hedrewhertohim,butahandgraspedhisarm,andheturnedtomeetthefaceofStarque,lividandpuckered,andcreasedwithsilentanger.Starquewaspreparedfortheknifeorforthepistol,butnotfortheblowthatcaughthimfullinthefaceandsenthimstaggeringbacktothewall.He recovered himself quickly, and motioned to Francois, who turned andlockedthedoor.'Standawayfromthatdoor!''Wait!'Starque,breathingquickly,wipedthebloodfromhisfacewiththebackofhishand.Wait,hesaidinhisgutturaltone;'beforeyougothereisamattertobesettled.'Atanytime,inanyplace,'saidtheEnglishman.'It is not the blow,' breathedStarque, 'that is nothing; it is thematter of theInnerCouncil—traitor!'Hethrustouthischinashehissedthelastword.Bartholomewhadverylittletimetodecideuponhiscourseofaction.Hewasunarmed;butheknewinstinctivelythattherewouldbenoshooting.Itwastheknifehehadtofearandhegraspedthebackofachair.Ifhecouldkeepthematadistancehemightreachthedoorandgetsafelyaway.Hecursedhisfollythat he had delayed making the coup that would have so effectively laidStarquebytheheels.'Youhavebetrayedus to theFour JustMen—but thatwemight never haveknown,fortheFourhavenoservantstotalk.ButyousoldustotheEmbassy—andthatwasyourundoing.'Hehadrecoveredhiscalm.'We sent you amessage telling you of our intention to destroy theBank ofEngland.TheBankwaswarned—bytheFour.Wetoldyouoftheattemptto

bemadeontheGrondovitch—thecaptainwaswarnedbytheEmbassy—youaredoubly convicted.No suchattemptswere ever contemplated.Theywereinventedforyourparticularbenefit,andyoufellintothetrap.'Bartholomewtooka freshgripof thechair.Herealizedvaguely thathewasfacetofacewithdeath,andforonesecondhewasseizedwithawildpanic.'Lastnight,'Starquewentondeliberately, 'theCouncilmetsecretly,andyournamewasreadfromthelist.'TheEnglishman'smouthwentdry.'AndtheCouncilsaidwithonevoice...'StarquepausedtolookattheWomanofGratz. Imperturbable she stoodwith folded hands, neither approving nordissenting.MomentarilyBartholomew'seyestoosoughtherface—buthesawneither pity nor condemnation. It was the face of Fate, inexorable,unreasoning,inevitable.'Deathwas thesentence,' saidStarque insosoftavoice that theman facinghimcouldscarcelyhearhim.'Death...'Withalightningmotionheraisedhishandandthrewtheknife...'Damnyou...'whimperedthestrickenman,andhishelplesshandsgropedathischest...thenheslidtohiskneesandFrancoisstruckprecisely...AgainStarquelookedatthewoman.'Itisthelaw,'hestammered,butshemadenoreply.Onlyhereyessoughtthehuddledfigureonthefloorandherlipstwitched.'Wemustgetawayfromhere,'whisperedStarque.Hewasshakingalittle,forthiswasnewworkforhim.Theforcesofjealousyandfearforhispersonalsafetyhadcausedhimtotakeuponhimselftheofficethatonotheroccasionshelefttolessermen.'Wholivesintheoppositeflat?'Hehadpeepedthroughthedoor.'Astudent—achemist,'sherepliedinhercalm,leveltone.Starque flushed, for her voice sounded almost strident coming after thewhisperedconferencebetweenhiscompanionandhimself.'Softly,softly,'heurged.Hesteppedgingerlybacktowherethebodywaslying,madeacircuitaboutit,andpulleddowntheblind.Hecouldnothaveexplainedtheinstinctthatmadehim do this. Then he came back to the door and gently turned the handle,beckoning the others. It seemed to him that the handle turned itself, or thatsomebodyontheothersidewasturningatthesametime.That thiswas so he discovered, for the door suddenly jerked open, sendinghimstaggeringbackward,andamanstoodonthethreshold.

With the drawn blind, the room was in semi-darkness, and the intruder,standing motionless in the door-way, could see nothing but the shadowyfiguresoftheinmates.Ashewaitedhewasjoinedbythreeothers,andhespokerapidlyinalanguagethat Starque, himself no mean linguist, could not understand. One of hiscompanionsopenedthedoorofthestudent'sroomandbroughtoutsomethingthathehandedtothewatcheronthethreshold.Then theman entered the room alone and closed the door behind him, notquiteclose, forhehad trailedwhat looked likea thickcordbehindhimandthispreventedtheshuttingofthedoor.Starquefoundhisvoice.'Whatdoyouwant?'heasked,quietly.'IwantBartholomew,whocameintothisroomhalfanhourago,'repliedtheintruder.'Hehasleft,'saidStarque,andinthedarknesshefeltathisfeetforthedeadman—heneededtheknife.'That isa lie,'said thestrangercoolly; 'neitherhenoryou,RudolphStarque,northeWomanofGratz,northemurdererFrancoishasleft.''Monsieur knows too much,' said Starque evenly, and lurched forward,swinginghisknife.'Keepyourdistance,'warnedthestranger,andatthatmomentStarqueandthesilentFrancoissprangforwardandstruck...The exquisite agony of the shock that met them paralysed them for themoment.Thesprayedthreadsofthe'live'wirethemanheldbeforehimlikeashieldjerkedtheknifefromStarque'shands,andheheardFrancoisgroanashefell.'Youarefoolish,'saidthevoiceagain,'andyou,madame,donotmove,Ibeg—tellmewhathasbecomeofBartholomew.'Asilence,then:'Heisdead,'saidtheWomanofGratz.Sheheardthemanmove.'Hewasatraitor—sowekilledhim,'shecontinuedcalmlyenough.'Whatwillyoudo—you,whostandasaself-constitutedjudge?'Hemadenoreply,andsheheardthesoftrustleofhisfingersonthewall.'You are seeking the light—as we all seek it,' she said, unmoved, and sheswitchedonthelight.

He saw her standing near the body of the man she had lured to his death,scornful, defiant, and strangely aloof from the sordidnessof the tragedy shehadallbutinstigated.Shesawatannedmanofthirty-five,withdeep,graveeyes,abroadforehead,andatrim,pointedbeard.Amanofinches,withstrengthineverylineofhisfinefigure,andstrengthineveryfeatureofhisface.Shestaredathiminsolently,uncaring,butbeforethemasteryofhiseyes,sheloweredherlids.It seemed the other actors in the drama were so inconsiderate as to beunworthyofnotice.Thedeadman inhisgrotesqueposture, theunconsciousmurdererathisfeet,andStarque,dazedandstunned,crouchingbythewall.'Here is the light you want,' she went on, 'not so easily do we of the RedHundredilluminatethegloomofdespairandoppression—''Spare me your speech-making,' said Manfred coldly, and the scorn in hisvoicestruckherlikethelashofawhip.Forthefirsttimethecolourcametoherfaceandhereyeslitwithanger.'Youhavebadcounsellors,'Manfredwenton,'you,whotalkofautocratsandcorrupt kingship—what are you but a puppet living on flattery? It is yourwhimthatyoushouldberegardedasaconspirator—aCorday.AndwhenyouareacclaimedPrincessRevolutionary, it issatisfactory toyourvanity—moresatisfactorythanyourtitletobehailedPrincessBeautiful.'Hechosehiswordsnicely.'Yetmen—suchmenasthese,'heindicatedStarque,'thinkonlyofthePrincessBeautiful—nottheladyoftheInspiringPlatitudes;notthefrail,heroicPatriotof the FlamingWords, but the warm flesh and blood woman, lovable andadorable.'He spoke inGerman, and therewere finer shades ofmeaning in his speechthancanbeexactlyorliterallytranslated.Hespokeofapurpose,evenlyandwithoutemotion.Heintendedtowound,andwounddeeply,andheknewhehadsucceeded.Hesawtherapidriseandfallofherbosomasshestrovetoregaincontrolofherself,andhesaw,too,thebloodonherlipswherehersharpwhiteteethbit.'I shallknowyouagain,' shesaidwithan intensityofpassion thatmadehervoice tremble. 'I shall look for you and find you, and be it the PrincessRevolutionaryorthePrincessBeautifulwhobringsaboutyourpunishment,besureIshallstrikehard.'Hebowed.'Thatisasitmaybe,'hesaidcalmly;'forthemomentyouarepowerless,ifI

willedityouwouldbepowerlessforever—forthemomentitismywishthatyoushouldgo.'Hesteppedasideandopenedthedoor.Themagnetisminhiseyesdrewherforward.'There is your road,' he said when she hesitated. She was helpless; thehumiliationwasmaddening.'Myfriends—'shebegan,asshehesitatedonthethreshold.'Yourfriendswillmeetthefatethatonedayawaitsyou,'hesaidcalmly.Whitewithpassion,sheturnedonhim.'You!—threatenme!abravemanindeedtothreatenawoman!'Shecouldhavebittenher tongueat the slip shemade.Sheasawomanhadappealedtohimasaman!Thiswasthegreatesthumiliationofall.Thereisyourroad,'hesaidagain,courteouslybutuncompromisingly.She was scarcely a foot from him, and she turned and faced him, her lipspartedandtheblackdevilofhateinhereyes.'Oneday—oneday,' shegasped, 'Iwill repayyou!'Then she turnedquicklyanddisappearedthroughthedoor,andManfredwaiteduntilherfootstepshaddiedawaybeforehestoopedtothehalf-consciousStarqueandjerkedhimtohisfeet.

VII. —THEGOVERNMENTANDMR.JESSEN

INrecordingtheeventsthatfollowedthereappearanceoftheFourJustMen,IhaveconfinedmyselftothosewhichIknowtohavebeenthedirectoutcomeoftheRedHundredpropagandaandthecounter-activityoftheFourJustMen.Thus Imakeno reference to theexplosionatWoolwichArsenal,whichwascredited to theRedHundred,knowing,as Ido, that thecalamitywasdue tothecarelessnessofaworkman.NortotheblowingupofthemaininOxfordStreet,whichwasamuchmoresimpleexplanationthanthefantastictheoriesoftheMegaphonewouldhaveyouimagine.Thiswasnotthefirsttimethatafused wire and a leaking gas main brought about the upheaval of a publicthoroughfare, and the elaborate plot with which organized anarchy wascreditedwaswithoutexistence.I think the most conscientiously accurate history of the Red Hundredmovement is that set forth in the series of ten articles contributed to theMorningLeaderbyHaroldAshtonunderthetitleof'FortyDaysofTerrorism',

and,whilst I think theauthor frequently fails from lackof sympathy for theFour Just Men to thoroughly appreciate the single-mindedness of thisextraordinarybandofmen,yetIshallalwaysregard'FortyDaysofTerrorism'asbeingthestandardhistoryofthemovement,anditsfailure.Ononepoint in thehistoryaloneI findmyself inopposition toMr.Ashton,andthatistheexactconnectionbetweenthediscoveryoftheCarlbyMansionTragedy,andtheextraordinaryreturnofMr.Jessenof37PresleyStreet.It is perhaps indiscreet of me to refer at so early a stage to this return ofJessen's,becausewhilsttakingexceptiontothetheoriesputforwardin'FortyDaysofTerrorism',IamnotpreparedtogointotheevidenceonwhichIbasemytheories.ThepopularstoryisthatonemorningMr.Jessenwalkedoutofhishouseanddemanded from the astonished milkman why he had omitted to leave hismorning supply. Remembering that the disappearance of 'Long'—perhaps itwould be less confusing to call him the name by which he was known inPresley Street—had created an extraordinary sensation; that pictures of hishouseandtheinteriorofhishousehadappearedinallthenewspapers;thatthenewspapercrimeexpertshadpublishedcolumnsuponcolumnsofspeculativetheories,andthat37PresleyStreet,hadforsomeweeksbeentheMeccaofthemorbidminded,who,standingoutside,staredtheunpretentiousfacadeoutofcountenanceforhoursonend;youmayimaginethatthemilkmanlegendhadthe exact journalistic touch thatwould appeal to a publicwhoseminds hadbeentrainedbygenerationsofmagazine-storywriterstojustsuchdenouementasthis.The truth is that Mr. Long, upon coming to life, went immediately to theHomeOfficeandtoldhisstorytotheUnderSecretary.Hedidnotdriveupinataxi, nor was he lifted out in a state of exhaustion as one newspaper haderroneouslyhadit,buthearrivedonthetopofamotoromnibuswhichpassedthedoor,andwasusheredinto thePresencealmostatonce.WhenMr.LonghadtoldhisstoryhewastakentotheHomeSecretaryhimself,andthechiefcommissioner was sent for, and came hurriedly from Scotland Yard,accompanied by Superintendent Falmouth. All this is made clear in Mr.Ashton'sbook.'Forsomeextraordinaryreason,'Iquotethesameauthority, 'Long,orJessen,seems by means of documents in his possession to have explained to thesatisfactionoftheHomeSecretaryandthePoliceAuthoritieshisownpositionin thematter, andmoreover to have inspired the right hon. gentlemanwiththese mysterious documents, that Mr. Ridgeway, so far from accepting theresignationthatJessenplacedinhishands,reinstatedhiminhisposition.'AstohowtwoofthesedocumentscametoJessenortotheFourJustMen,Mr.

Ashtonisverywiselysilent,notattemptingtosolveamysterywhichpuzzledboththeQuaid'OrsayandPetrograd.For these twoofficial forms, signed in theonecaseby theFrenchPresidentandintheotherwiththesprawlingsignatureofCzarNicholas,weresupposedto be incorporated with other official memoranda in well-guarded nationalarchives.ItwassubsequenttoMr.Jessen'svisittotheHomeOfficethatthediscoveryoftheGarlbyMansions Tragedywasmade, and I cannot do better than quoteTheTimes,sincethatjournal,jealousoftheappearanceinitscolumnsofanynewsofasensationalcharacter,reducedtheintelligencetoitsmostconstrictedlimits. Perhaps theMegaphone account might make better reading, but thespaceatmydisposalwillnotallowoftheinclusioninthisbookofthethirty-three columns of reading matter, headlines, portraits, and diagrammaticillustrationswithwhich that enterprising journal servedupparticularsof thegrislyhorrortoitsreaders.Thus,TheTimes:—Shortly after one o'clock yesterday afternoon and in consequence ofinformationreceived,SuperintendentFalmouth,oftheCriminalInvestigationDepartment,accompaniedbyDetective-SergeantsBoyleandLawley,effectedan entrance into No. 69, Carlby Mansions, occupied by the CountessSlienvitch, a youngRussian lady of independentmeans. Lying on the floorwerethebodiesofthreemenwhohavesincebeenidentifiedas—LauderBartholomew,aged33,lateoftheKoondorpMountedRifles;Rudolph Starque, aged 40, believed to be an Austrian and a prominentrevolutionarypropagandist;Henri Delaye Francois, aged 36, a Frenchman, also believed to have beenengagedinpropagandawork.ThecauseofdeathinthecaseofBartholomewseemstobeevident,butwiththeothertwomensomedoubtexists,andthepolice,whopreserveanattitudeof rigid reticence, will await the medical examination before making anystatement.Oneunusualfeatureofthecaseisunderstoodtobecontainedinaletterfoundin the roomaccepting, onbehalf of anorganizationknownas theFour JustMen, full responsibility for the killing of the two foreigners, and another,writes a correspondent, is the extraordinary structural damage to the roomitself.Thetenant,theCountessSlienvitch,hadnot,uptoalatehourlastnight,beentraced.SuperintendentFalmouth,standinginthecentreoftheroom,fromwhichmosttraces of the tragedy had been removed, was mainly concerned with the'structuraldamage'thatTheTimessolightlypassedover.

Athisfeetyawnedagreatsquarehole,andbeneath,intheemptyflatbelow,wasaheapofplasterandlaths,andthedebrisofdestruction.'Thecuriousthingis,anditshowshowthoroughthesemenare,'explainedthesuperintendent tohis companion, 'that the first thingwe foundwhenwegottherewasa twenty-poundnotepinnedto thewallwithabriefnote inpencilsayingthatthiswastopaytheownerofthepropertyforthedamage.'Itmay be added that by the express desire of the youngman at his side hedispensedwithallceremonyofspeech.Once or twice in speaking, he found himself on the verge of saying, 'YourHighness',buttheyoungmanwassokindly,andsoquicklyputthedetectiveathisease, thatheovercame thefeelingofannoyance that thearrivalof thedistinguished visitorwith the letter from the commissioner had caused him,andbecameamiable.'Of course, I have an interest in all this,' said the youngman quietly; 'thesepeople,forsomereason,havedecidedIamnotfittoencumbertheearth—''WhathaveyoudonetotheRedHundred,sir?'Theyoungmanlaughed.'Nothing.On the contrary,' he addedwith awhimsical smile, 'I have helpedthem.'The detective remembered that this hereditary Prince of theEscorial bore areputationforeccentricity.Withasuddennesswhichwasconfusing,thePrinceturnedwithasmileonhislips.'Youarethinkingofmydreadfulreputation?''No,no!'disclaimedtheembarrassedMr.Falmouth.'I—''Oh,yes—I'vedonelotsofthings,'saidtheotherwithalittlelaugh;'it'sintheblood—myillustriouscousin—''IassureyourHighness,'saidFalmouthimpressively,'myreflectionswerenot—er—reflections on yourself—there is a story that you have dabbled insocialism—butthat,ofcourse—''Isperfectlytrue,'concludedthePrincecalmly.Heturnedhisattentiontotheholeinthefloor.'Haveyouanytheory?'heasked.Thedetectivenodded.It'smore thana theory—it'sknowledge—youseewe'veseenJessen,and thethreadsofthestoryareallinhand.'

'Whatwillyoudo?''Nothing,'saidthedetectivestolidly;'hushuptheinquestuntilwecanlaytheFourJustMenbytheheels.''Andthemannerofkilling?''Thatmust be kept quiet,' replied Falmouth emphatically. This conversationmay furnish a clue as to the unprecedented conduct of the police at thesubsequentinquest.Inthelittlecoroner'scourt therewasaccommodationforthreepressmenandsomefiftyofthegeneralpublic.Withoutdesiringinanywaytocastsuspicionuponthecleanestpoliceforceintheworld,Icanonlystatethatthejurywereremarkably well disciplined, that the general public found the body of thecourtsodenselypackedwithbroad-shoulderedmenthattheywereunabletoobtainadmission.Astothepress,theconfidentialcircularhaddoneitswork,and the three shining lights of journalism that occupied the reporters' deskwerecarefultocarryoutinstructions.Theproceedingslastedaveryshorttime,averdict,'...somepersonorpersonsunknown,' was recorded, and another London mystery was added (I quotefrom the Evening News) to the already alarming and formidable list ofunpunishedcrimes.CharlesGarrettwasoneof the three journalists admitted to the inquest, andafteritwasalloverheconfrontedFalmouth.'Look here, Falmouth,' he said pugnaciously, 'what's the racket?' Falmouth,having reason to know, and to an extent stand in awe of, the little man,waggledhisheaddarkly.'Oh,rot!'saidCharlesrudely,'don'tbesodisgustinglymysterious—whyaren'tweallowedtosaythesechapsdied—?''HaveyouseenJessen?'askedthedetective.'Ihave,'saidCharlesbitterly,'andafterwhatI'vedoneforthatman;afterI'veputhisbigfeetontherungsofculture—''Wouldn'thespeak?'askedFalmouthinnocently.'Hewasasclose,'saidCharlessadly,'astheinsidewasherofavacuumpump.''H'm!' the detective was considering. Sooner or later the connection mustoccur toCharles, andhewas theonlymanwhowouldbe likely to surpriseJessen'ssecret.Betterthatthejournalistshouldknownow.'If I were you,' said Falmouth quietly, 'I shouldn't worry Jessen; you knowwhatheis,andinwhatcapacityheservestheGovernment.Comealongwith

me.'HedidnotspeakawordinreplytothequestionsCharlesputuntiltheypassedthroughtheshowyportalsofCarlbyMansionsandalifthaddepositedthematthedooroftheflat.Falmouth opened the doorwith a key, andCharleswent into the flat at hisheels.Hesawtheholeinthefloor.'This wasn't mentioned at the inquest,' he said; 'but what's this to do withJessen?'Helookedupatthedetectiveinperplexity,thenalightbrokeuponhimandhewhistled.'Well, I'm—'he said, thenheadded softly—'Butwhatdoes theGovernmentsaytothis?''TheGovernment,' said Falmouth in his best officialmanner, smoothing thenap of his hat the while—'the Government regard the circumstances asunusual,buttheyhaveacceptedthesituationwithgreatphilosophy.'That nightMr. Long (or Jessen) reappeared at theGuild as though nothingwhatever had happened, and addressed his audience for half an hour on thesubjectof'Doburglarsmakegoodcaretakers?'

VIII. —ANINCIDENTINTHEFIGHT

FROMwhat secretplace in themetropolis theWomanofGratz reorganizedherforcesweshallneverknow;whencecameherstrengthofpurposeandherunbounded energywe can guess.With Starque's death she became virtuallyandactuallytheleaderoftheRedHundred,andfromeverycornerofEuropecame reinforcements of men and money to strengthen her hand and to re-establishtheshakingprestigeofthemostpowerfulassociationthatAnarchismhadeverknown.Great Britain had ever been immune from the active operations of theanarchist. It had been the sanctuary of the revolutionary for centuries, andAnarchismhadhesitatedtojeopardizethesecurityofrefugeesbycarryingonitspropagandaonBritishsoil.Thattheextremistsofthemovementhadchafedunder the restriction is well known, and when theWoman of Gratz openlydeclaredwaronEngland,shewasacclaimedenthusiastically.Then followedperhaps themost extraordinaryduels that theworldhadeverseen.Twopowerful bodies, bothoutside thepaleof the law, fought rapidly,

mercilessly,askingnoquarterandgivingnone.Andtheeeriethingaboutitallwas,thatnomansawtheagentsofeitherofthecombatants.Itwasasthoughtwospiritforceswereengagedinsometitaniccombat.Thepolicewerealmosthelpless. The fight against the RedHundred was carried on, almost single-handedly, by the Four JustMen, or, to give them the title withwhich theysignedtheirfamousproclamation,'TheCouncilofJustice'..Since thedaysof theFenian scare,Londonhadnever livedunder the terrorthattheRedHundredinspired.Neveradaypassedbutpreparationsforsomeoutragewerediscovered,themostappallingofwhichwastheattemptontheTubeRailway.IfIrefertothemas'attempts',andiftherepetitionofthatwordwearies the reader, it isbecause, thanks to theextraordinaryvigilanceof theCouncilofJustice,theywerenomore.'This sort of thing cannot go on,' said the Home Secretary petulantly at ameetingoftheheadsofthepolice.'Herewehaveadmittedlythefinestpoliceforceintheworld,andwemustneedsbeunderobligationtomenforwhomwarrantsexistonachargeofmurder!'Thechiefcommissionerwassufficientlyharassed,andwasinclinedtoresentthecriticismintheminister'svoice.'We'vedoneeverythingthatcanbedone,sir,'hesaidshortly;'ifyouthinkmyresignationwouldhelpyououtofthedifficulty—''Now forheaven's sake,don't be a fool,' pleaded theHomeSecretary, inhisbestunparliamentarymanner.'Cannotyousee—''Icanseethatnoharmhasbeendonesofar,'saidthecommissionerdoggedly;thenheburstforth:'Lookhere,sir!ourpeoplehaveveryoftentoemploycharactersajollysightworse than the Four JustMenâ€"ifwe don't employ themwe exploit them.Meanlittlesneak-thieves,"narks"theycall'em,oldlags,burglarsâ€"andonceor twice somethingworse.Weare here to protect thepublic; so long as thepublicisbeingprotected,nobodycankick—-''Butitisnotyouwhoareprotectingthepublic—yougetyourinformation—'From the Council of Justice, that is so; but where it comes from doesn'tmatter.Now,listentome,sir.'Hewasveryearnestandemphasizedhisremarkswithlittlerapsonthedesk.'Get thePrinceof theEscorialoutof thecountry,'hesaidseriously. 'I'vegotinformationthattheRedsareafterhisblood.No,Ihaven'tbeenwarnedbytheJustMen, that's thequeerpartabout it. I'vegot itstraightfromamanwho'ssellingmeinformation.Ishallseehimtonightiftheyhaven'tbutcheredhim.''ButthePrinceisourguest.'

'He'sbeenheretoolong,'saidthepracticalandunsentimentalcommissioner;'lethimgobacktoSpain—he'stobemarriedinamonth;lethimgohomeandbuyhistrousseauorwhateverhebuys.''Isthataconfessionthatyoucannotsafeguardhim?'Thecommissionerlookedvexed.'Icouldsafeguardachildofsixorastaidgentlemanofsixty,butIcannotberesponsible forayoungmanwho insistson seeingLondonwithoutaguide,who takes solitarymotor-car drives, and refuses to give us any informationbeforehandastohisplansfortheday—orifhedoes,breaksthem!'Theministerwaspacingtheapartmentwithhisheadbentinthought.'As to thePrinceof theEscorial,'hesaidpresently, 'advicehasalreadybeenconveyedtohisHighness—fromthehighestquarter—tomakehisdepartureatanearlydate.Tonight,indeed,ishislastnightinLondon.'TheCommissionerofPolicemadeanextravagantdemonstrationofrelief.'He's going to the Auditorium tonight,' he said, rising. He spoke a littlepityingly,and,indeed,theAuditorium,althoughaveryfirst-classmusichall,hadaslightreputation.'Ishallhaveadozenmeninthehouseandwe'llhavehismotor-caratthestagedoorattheendoftheshow.'ThatnighthisHighnessarrivedpromptlyateighto'clockandstoodchattingpleasantlywiththebare-headedmanagerinthevestibule.Thenhewentalonetohisboxandsatdownintheshadowoftheredvelvetcurtain.Punctuallyateight therearrived twoothergentlemen,also ineveningdress.AntonioSelleniwas one andKarlOllmannswas the other.Theywere bothyoung men, and before they left the motor-car they completed theirarrangement.'Youwilloccupytheboxontheoppositeside,butIwillendeavourtoenterthebox.IfIsucceed—itwillbefinished.Theknifeisbest,'therewasprideintheItalian'stone.'IfIcannotreachhimthehonourwillbeyours.'HehadthestiltedmanneroftheyoungLatin.Theothermangrunted.HerepliedinhaltingFrench.'OnceIshotaneggfrombetweenfingers—so,'hesaid.Theymadetheirentryseparately.In the manager's office, Superintendent Falmouth relieved the tedium ofwaitingbyreadingtheadvertisementsinaneveningnewspaper.TohimcamethemanagerwithamessagethatundernocircumstanceswashisHighnessinBoxAtobedisturbeduntiltheconclusionoftheperformance.InthemeantimeSignorSellenimadeacautiouswaytoBoxA.Hefoundthe

roadclear,turnedthehandlesoftly,andsteppedquicklyintothedarkinteriorofthebox.Twentyminutes later Falmouth stood at the back of the dress circle issuinginstructionstoasubordinate.'Haveacoupleofmenatthestagedoor—myGod!'Over thesoftmusic,above thehumofvoices,ashot rangoutandawomanscreamed.FromtheboxoppositethePrince'sathinswirlofsmokefloated.KarlOllmanns,tiredofwaiting,hadfiredatthemotionlessfiguresittingintheshadowofthecurtain.Thenhewalkedcalmlyoutoftheboxintothearmsoftwobreathlessdetectives.'Adoctor!'shoutedFalmouthasheran.ThedooroftheBoxAwaslocked,buthebrokeitopen.Amanlayontheflooroftheboxverystillandstrangelystiff.'Why, what—!' began the detective, for the deadmanwas bound hand andfoot.There was already a crowed at the door of the box, and he heard anauthoritativevoicedemandadmittance.Helookedoverhisshouldertomeettheeyeofthecommissioner.'They'vekilledhim,sir,'hesaidbitterly.'Whom?'askedthecommissionerinperplexity.'HisHighness.''His Highness!' the commissioner's eyebrows rose in genuine astonishment.'Why,thePrinceleftCharingCrossfortheContinenthalfanhourago!'Thedetectivegasped.'ThenwhointhenameofFateisthis?'It was M. Menshikoff, who had come in with the commissioner, whoanswered.'AntonioSelleni,ananarchistofMilan,'hereported.CarlosFerdinandBourbon,Princeof theEscorial,DukeofBuda-Gratz, andheir to three thrones, was married, and his many august cousins scatteredthroughoutEuropehadasenseofheartfeltrelief.Aprincewithadmittedlyadvancedviews,an idealist,withUtopianschemesfortheregenerationofmankind,and,comingdowntothemundanepracticalsideoflife,arecklessmotor-cardriver,anoutrageouslydaringhorseman,andpossessedoftheindifferencetopublicopinionwhichisequallytheequipmentofyourfoolandyourtrulygreatman,hismarriagehadbeenlookedforward

tothroughoutthecourtsofEuropeinthelightofaninternationalachievement.SaidhisImperialMajestyofCentralEuropetothegrizzledchancellor:'TeDeums—youunderstand,vonHedlitz?Ineverychurch.''Itisagreatrelief,'saidthechancellor,wagginghisheadthoughtfully.'Relief!'theEmperorstretchedhimselfasthoughthereliefwerephysical,'thatyoungmanowesmetwoyearsoflife.YouheardoftheLondonessay?'Thechancellorhadheard—indeed,hehadheardthreeorfourtimes—buthewasapolitechancellorandlistenedattentively.HisMajestyhadthetruestory-tellingfaculty,andelaboratedtheintroduction.'...ifIamtobelievehisHighness,hewassittingquietlyinhisboxwhentheItalianentered.Hesawtheknifeinhishandandhalfrosetograpplewiththeintruder.Suddenly,fromnowhereinparticular,sprangthreemen,whohadtheassassinonthefloorboundandgagged.YouwouldhavethoughtourCarlosFerdinandwouldhavemadeanoutcry!Butnothe!Hesatstockstill,dividinghis attention between the stage and the prostrateman and the leader of thismysteriousbandofrescuers.''TheFourJustMen!'putinthechancellor.'Three, so far as I can gather,' corrected the imperial story-teller. 'Well, itwould appear that this leader, in quite a logical calm, matter-of- fact way,suggested that theprince should leavequietly; that hismotor-carwas at thestagedoor,thatasaloonhadbeenreservedatCharingCross,acabinatDover,andaspecialtrainatCalais.'HisMajestyhadatrickofrubbinghiskneewhenanythingamusedhim,andthishedidnow.'Carlobeyedlikeachild—whichseemstheremarkablystrangepointaboutthewholeproceedings—thecapturedanarchistwastrussedandboundandsatonthechair,andlefttohisownunpleasantthoughts.''Andkilled,'saidthechancellor.'No,notkilled,'correctedtheEmperor. 'PartofthestoryItellyouishis—hetoldittothepoliceatthehospital—no,no,notkilled—hisfriendwasnotthemarksmanhethought.'

IX. —THEFOURVERSUSTHEHUNDRED

SOMEworkmen,returninghomeofaneveningandtakingashortcutthroughafieldtwomilesfromCatford,sawamanhangingfromatree.

They ran across and found a fashionably dressed gentleman of foreignappearance.Oneofthelabourerscuttheropewithhisknife,butthemanwasdeadwhen they cut him down.Beneath the treewas a black bag, towhichsomebody had affixed a label bearing thewarning, 'Do not touch—this bagcontainsexplosives:informthepolice.'Moreremarkablestillwastheluggagelabeltiedtothelapelofthedeadman'scoat.Itran: 'ThisisFranzKitsinger,convictedatPraguein1904,forthrowingabomb:escapedfromprisonMarch17,1905,wasoneofthethreemenresponsiblefortheattemptontheTowerBridgetoday.ExecutedbyorderofTheCouncilofJustice.''It'sahumiliatingconfession,'saidthechiefcommissionerwhentheybroughtthenewstohim,'butthepresenceofthesementakesaloadoffmymind.'ButtheRedHundredweregrimlypersistent.Thatnight aman, smokinga cigar, strolledaimlesslypast thepolicemanonpointdutyatthecornerofKensingtonParkGardens,andwalkedcasuallyintoLadbroke Square. He strolled on, turned a corner and, crossing a road, hecame to where one great garden served for a double row of middle-classhouses.Thebacksofthesehousesopenedontothesquare.Helookedroundand, seeing the coast clear, he clamberedover the iron railings anddroppedinto thebigpleasureground,holdingverycarefullyanobject thatbulged inhispocket.Hetooka leisurelyviewof thehousesbeforehedecidedon thevictim.TheblindsofthisparticularhousewereupandtheFrenchwindowsofthedining-roomwereopen,andhecouldseethelaughinggroupofyoungpeopleaboutthetable.Therewasabirthdaypartyorsomethingofthesortinprogress,fortherewasagreatparadeofParthiancapsandpapersunbonnets.Themanwasevidentlysatisfiedwiththepossibilitiesfortragedy,andhetookapacenearer...Twostrongarmswereabouthim,armswithmuscleslikecordsofsteel.'Notthatway,myfriend,'whisperedavoiceinhisear...Themanshowedhisteethinadreadfulgrin.ThesergeantondutyatNottingHillGateStationreceivedanoteatthehandsofagrimyurchin,whofordaysafterwardsmaintainedapositionofenviablenotoriety.'Agentlemantoldmetobringthis,'hesaid.Thesergeantlookedatthesmallboysternlyandaskedhimifheeverwashedhisface.Thenhereadtheletter:'ThesecondmanofthethreeconcernedintheattempttoblowuptheTowerBridge will be found in the garden ofMaidham Crescent, under the laurel

bushes,oppositeNo.72.'Itwassigned'TheCouncilofJustice'.Thecommissionerwassittingoverhiscoffeeat theRitz,whentheybroughthimthenews.Falmouthwasadeferentialguest,andthechiefpassedhimthenotewithoutcomment.'This is going to settle the RedHundred,' said Falmouth. 'These people arefighting them with their own weapons—assassination with assassination,terrorwithterror.Wheredowecomein?''Wecomeinattheend,'saidthecommissioner,choosinghiswordswithgreatniceness,'tocleanupthemess,andtakeanyscrapsofcreditthataregoing'—hepausedandshookhishead.'Ihope—Ishouldbesorry—'hebegan.'So should I,' said the detective sincerely, for he knew that his chief wasconcerned for theultimate safetyof themenwhosearrest itwashisduty toeffect.Thecommissioner'sbrowswerewrinkledthoughtfully.'Two,'hesaidmusingly; 'now,howonearthdo theFourJustMenknowthenumberinthis—andhowdidtheytrackthemdown—andwhoisthethird?—heavens!onecouldgoonaskingquestionsthewholeofthenight!'On one point the Commissioner might have been informed earlier in theevening—hewasnottolduntilthreeo'clockthenextmorning.ThethirdmanwasVonDunop.Ignorantofthefateofhisfellow-Terrorists,hesalliedforthtocompletethedaynotably.The crowd at a theatre door started a train of thought, but he rejected thatoutlettoambition.Itwastoopublic,andthechanceofescapewasnil.TheseBritish audiences did not lose their heads so quickly; they refused to beconfounded by noise and smoke, and awrithing figure here and there.VonDunop was no exponent of the Glory of Death school. He greatly desiredglory,butthesmallertherisk,thegreatertheglory.Thiswashiscode.HestoodforamomentoutsidetheHotelRitz.Apartyofdinerswereleaving,andmotor-carswerebeingsteereduptocarrytheseaccursedplutocratstothetheatre.Onesoldierly-lookinggentleman,withagreymoustache,andattendedby aquiet, observant, cleanshavenman, interested the anarchist.He and thesoldierexchangedglances.'Who the dickenswas that?' asked the commissioner as he stepped into thetaxi.'Iseemtoknowhisface.''Ihaveseenhimbefore,'saidFalmouth.'Iwon'tgowithyou,sir—I'vealittlebusinesstodointhispartoftheworld.'ThereafterVonDunopwas not permitted to enjoy hiswalk in solitude, for,unknown to him, a man 'picked him up' and followed him throughout the

evening. And as the hour grew later, that one man became two, at eleveno'clockhebecamethree,andatquartertotwelve,whenVonDunophadfinallyfixeduponthesceneandscopeofhisexploit,heturnedfromParkLaneintoBrookStreet todiscover, tohisannoyance,quiteanumberofpeoplewithincall. Yet he suspected nothing. He did not suspect the night wanderermoochingalongthecurbwithdowncasteyes,seekingthegutterforthestraycigar end; nor the two loudly talking men in suits of violet check whowrangledas theywalkedconcerning the relativemeritsof the favourites fortheDerby;northecommissionairetrudginghomewithhisbaginhishandandapipeinhismouth,northeclean-shavenmanineveningdress.TheHomeSecretaryhad ahouse inBerkeleySquare.VonDunopknew thenumber verywell.He slackened pace to allow theman in evening dress topass.Theslow-movingtaxithatwasfiftyyardsawayhemustrisk.Thistaxihadbeenhisconstantattendantduringthelasthour,buthedidnotknowit.Hedippedhis hand into his overcoat pocket anddrew forth themachine. ItwasoneofCulveri'smasterpiecesand,toanextent,experimental—thatmuchthemasterhadwarnedhim ina letter thatbore thedate-mark 'Riga'.Hefeltwithhisthumbforthetinykeythat'set'themachineandpushedit.Then he slipped into the doorway ofNo. 196 and placed the bomb. It wasdoneinasecond,andsofarashecould tellnomanhadseenhimleavethepathway and he was back again on the sidewalk very quickly. But as hesteppedback,hehearda shoutandamandartedacross the road,callingonhimtosurrender.Fromthelefttwomenwererunning,andhesawthemanineveningdressblowingawhistle.Hewascaught;heknewit.Therewasachanceofescape—theotherendofthe street was clear—he turned and ran like the wind. He could hear hispursuerspatteringalongbehindhim.Hisear,alerttoeveryphaseofthechase,heardonepairoffeetcheckandspringupthestepsof196.Heglancedround.They were gaining on him, and he turned suddenly and fired three times.Somebody fell;he saw thatmuch.Then rightaheadofhima tallpolicemansprangfromtheshadowsandclaspedhimroundthewaist.'Holdthatman!'shoutedFalmouth,runningup.Blowinghardcamethenightwanderer,araggedobjectbutskilful,andhehadVonDunophandcuffedinatrice.Itwashewhonoticedthelimpnessoftheprisoner.'Hullo!'hesaid,thenheldouthishand.'Showalighthere.'Therewerehalf adozenpolicemenand the inevitable crowdon the spotbynow,andtheraysofthebull's-eyefocusedonthedetective'shand.Itwasredwithblood.Falmouthseizedalanternandflasheditontheman'sface.

Therewas no need to look farther.Hewas dead,—deadwith the inevitablelabelaffixedtothehandleoftheknifethatkilledhim.Falmouthrappedoutanoath.'Itisincredible;itisimpossible!hewasrunningtilltheconstablecaughthim,andhehasnotbeenoutofourhands!Whereistheofficerwhoheldhim?'Nobodyanswered,certainlynot the tallpoliceman,whowasat thatmomentbeingdriveneastward,makinga rapidchange into theconventionaleveningcostumeofanEnglishgentleman.

X. —THETRIAL

TOfathomthemindoftheWomanofGratzisnoeasytask,andonenottobelightlyundertaken.Rememberingherobscurebeginning,thebare-leggedchilddrinking in revolutionary talk in the Transylvanian kitchen, and thedevelopmentofherintellectalongunconventionallines—remembering,also,thatearlyinlifeshemadeacquaintancewiththeextremeproblemsoflifeanddeathintheirleastattractiveforms,andthattheproportionofthingshadbeengrossly distorted by her teachers, you may arrive at a point where yourvacillatingjudgementhesitatesbetweenblameandpity.Iwouldbelievethatthepowerofintrospectionhadnorealplaceinhermentalequipment,elsehowcanweexplainherattitudetowardsthemanwhomshehadoncedefiedand reconcile thoseoutburstsofherswhereinshecalled forhis death, for his terrible punishment, wherein, too, she allowed herself therareluxuryofunrestrainedspeech,howcanwereconcilethesetantrumswiththefactthatthisman'svoicefilledherthoughtsdayandnight,therecollectionof this man's eyes through his mask followed her everymovement, till theimageofhimbecameanobsession?Itmay be that I have no knowledge of women and their ways (there is nosubtlesmugnessinthedoubtIexpress)andthatherinconsistencywasgeneraltohersex.Itmustnotbeimaginedthatshehadsparedeithertroubleormoneyto secure the extermination of her enemies, and the enemies of the RedHundred.Shehaddescribedthem,aswellasshecould,afterherfirstmeeting,andthesketchesmadeunderherinstructionhadbeencirculatedbytheofficersoftheReds.Sittingnearthewindowofherhouse,shemused,lulledbytheceaselesshumoftrafficinthestreetbelow,andhalfdozing.Theturningofthedoor-handlewokeherfromherdreams.ItwasSchmidt,theunspeakableSchmidt,allperspirationandexcitement.His

roundcoarsefaceglowedwithit,andhecouldscarcelybringhisvoicetotellthenews.'Wehavehim!wehavehim!'hecriedinglee,andsnappedhisfingers.'Oh,thegoodnews!—Iamthefirst!Nobodyhasbeen,LittleFriend?Ihaverunandhavetakentaxis—''Youhave—whom?'sheasked.'Theman—oneofthemen'hesaid,'whokilledStarqueandFrancois,and—''Which—whichman?'shesaidharshly.Hefumbledinhispocketandpulledoutadiscolouredsketch.'Oh!'shesaid,itcouldnotbethemanwhomshehaddefied,'Why,why?'sheaskedstormily,'Whyonlythisman?Whynottheothers—whynottheleader?—havetheycaughthimandlosthim?'Chagrin and astonishment sat on Schmidt's round face. His disappointmentwasalmostcomic.'But,LittleMother!'hesaid,crestfallenandbewildered,'thisisone—wedidnothopeevenforoneand—'Thestormpassedover.'Yes,yes,'shesaidwearily, 'one—evenoneisgood.TheyshalllearnthattheRedHundredcanstillstrike—thisleadershallknow—Thismanshallhaveadeath,'shesaid,lookingatSchmidt'worthyofhisimportance.Tellmehowhewascaptured.''Itwasthepicture,'saidtheeagerSchmidt,'thepictureyouhaddrawn.Oneofourcomradesthoughtherecognizedhimandfollowedhimtohishouse.''Heshallbetried—tonight,'andshespentthedayanticipatinghertriumph.Conspirators do not always choose dark arches for their plottings. TheRedHundredespeciallywerenotoriousforthelikelinessoftheirrendezvous.Theywenttonatureforaprecedent,andassheendowsthetigerwithstripesthatareundistinguishablefromthejunglegrass,sotheRedHundredwouldchoosefortheirmeetingssuchaplacewheremeetingswereusuallyheld.Itwas in theLodgeRoomof thePride ofMillwall,AOSA—whichmaybeamplified as theAssociatedOrder of the Sons ofAbstinence—that the trialtookplace.ThefinancialpositionofthePrideofMillwallwasnotstrong.AnunusualepidemicoftemperateseafaringmenhadcalledtheLodgeintobeing,theinfluxofcapitalfromeccentricbequestshadbuiltthetinyhall,andsincethe fiasco attending the firstmeeting of theLeague ofLondon,much of itspublicbusinesshadbeenskilfullyconductedintheseriversidepremises.Ithadbeen raided by the police during the days of terror, but nothing of anincriminating character had been discovered. Because of the success with

whichtheopenpolicyhadbeenpursuedtheWomanofGratzpreferredtotaketheriskofanopentrialinahallliabletopoliceraid.Themanmustbesoguardedthatescapewasimpossible.Messengersspedineverydirectiontocarryoutherinstruction.Therewasarapidsummoningofleadersofthemovement,thechoiceoftheplaceoftrial,thepreparationforaceremony which was governed by well-established precedent, and thearrangementofthepropertieswhichplayedsoeffectiveapartinthetrialsoftheHundred.In the black-draped chamber of trial the Woman of Gratz found a fullcompany.Maliscrivona,Tchezki,Vellantini,DeRomans,tonameafewwhoweretheresittingaltogethersidebysideonthelowforms,andtheybuzzedawelcomeas shewalked into the roomand tookher seat at thehigherplace.Sheglancedroundthefaces,bestowinganodhereandaglanceofrecognitionthere.She remembered the last timeshehadmadeanappearancebefore therankandfileofthemovement.Shemissedmanyfacesthathadturnedtoherinthosedays:Starque,Francois,Kitsinger—deadatthehandsoftheFourJustMen. It fittedhermood to remember that tonight shewould judgeonewhohadatleasthelpedintheslayingofStarque.Abruptlysherose.Latelyshehadhadfewopportunitiesforthedisplayofthatoratorywhichwasonceher sole title to consideration in the councilsof theRedHundred.Herpowersoforganizationhadcometoberespectedlater.Shefelt thewantofpracticeas shebeganspeaking.She foundherselfhesitatingfor words, and once she felt her illustrations were crude. But she gatheredconfidenceassheproceededandshefelt theresponsivethrillofafascinatedaudience.Itwasthestoryofthecampaignthatshetold.Muchofitweknow;thestoryfromthepointofviewoftheRedsmaybeguessed.Shefinishedherspeechbyrecountingthecaptureoftheenemy.'Tonight we aim a blow at these enemies of progress; if they have beenmerciless, let us show them that the Red Hundred is not to be outdone inferocity.Astheystruck,soletusstrike—and,instriking,readalessontothemenwhokilledourcomrades,thatthey,northeworld,willeverforget.'Therewasnocheeringasshefinished—thathadbeentheorder—butahumofwordsastheyflungtheirtributesofwordsatherfeet—aruckofincoherentphrasesofpraiseandadoration.Thentwomenledintheprisoner.Hewascalmandinterested,throwingouthissquarechinresolutelywhenthefirstwordsof thechargewerecalledand twiddling the fingersofhisboundhandsabsently.

Hemetthescowlingfacesturnedtohimserenely,butastheyproceededwiththeindictment,hegrewattentive,bendinghisheadtocatchthewords.Onceheinterrupted.'I cannotquiteunderstand that,' he said in fluentRussian, 'myknowledgeofGermanislimited.''Whatisyournationality?'demandedthewoman.'English,'hereplied.'DoyouspeakFrench?'sheasked.'Iamlearning,'hesaidnaively,andsmiled.'YouspeakRussian,'shesaid.Herconversationwascarriedoninthattongue.'Yes,'hesaidsimply;'Iwasthereformanyyears.'After this, the sum of his transgressionswere pronounced in a language heunderstood. Once or twice as the reader proceeded—it was Ivan Oranvitchwhoread—themansmiled.TheWomanofGratzrecognizedhiminstantlyasthefourthofthepartythatgathered about her door the day Bartholomewwasmurdered. Formally sheaskedhimwhathehadtosaybeforehewascondemned.Hesmiledagain.'IamnotoneoftheFourJustMen,'hesaid;'whoeversaysIam—lies.''Andisthatallyouhavetosay?'sheaskedscornfully.'Thatisall,'washiscalmreply.'DoyoudenythatyouhelpedslayourcomradeStarque?''Idonotdenyit,'hesaideasily,'Ididnothelp—Ikilledhim.''Ah!'theexclamationcamesimultaneouslyfromeverythroat.'DoyoudenythatyouhavekilledmanyoftheRedHundred?'Hepausedbeforeheanswered.'Asto theRedHundred—Idonotknow;butIhavekilledmanypeople.'Hespokewith the grave air of aman filledwith a sense of responsibility, andagaintheexclamatoryhumranthroughthehall.Yet,theWomanofGratzhadagrowingsenseofunrestinspiteofthesuccessoftheexamination.'YouhavesaidyouwereinRussia—didmenfalltoyourhandthere?'Henodded.'AndinEngland?''AlsoinEngland,'hesaid.

'Whatisyourname?'sheasked.Byanoversightitwasaquestion—shehadnotputbefore.Themanshruggedhisshoulders.'Does it matter?' he asked. A thought struck her. In the hall she had seenMagnustheJew.HehadlivedformanyyearsinEngland,andshebeckonedhim.'Ofwhatclassisthisman?'sheaskedinawhisper.'Ofthelowerorders,'hereplied;'itisastounding—didyounotnoticewhen—no, you did not see his capture. But he spoke like a man of the streets,droppinghisaspirates.'Hesawshelookedpuzzledandexplained.'It is a trick of the order—just as the Moujik says... ' he treated her to aspecimenofcolloquialRussian.'Whatisyourname?'sheaskedagain.Helookedatherslyly.'InRussiatheycalledmeFatherKopab...'Themajorityof thosewhowerepresentwereRussian,andat theword theysprang to their feet, shrinking backwith ashen faces, as though they fearedcontactwiththemanwhostoodboundandhelplessinthemiddleoftheroom.TheWomanofGratzhadrisenwiththerest.Herlipsquiveredandherwideopeneyesspokehermomentaryterror.'I killed Starque,' he went on, 'by authority. Francois also. Some day'—helookedleisurelyabouttheroom—'Ishallalso—''Stop!'shecried,andthen:'Releasehim,' she said, and,wonderingly,Schmidt cut thebonds thatboundhim.Hestretchedhimself.'Whenyoutookme,'hesaid, 'Ihadabook;youwillunderstandthathere inEngland I find—forgetfulness in books—and I, who have seen so muchsufferingandwantcausedthroughdeparturefromthelaw,amstrivingashardfortheregenerationofmankindasyou—butdifferently.'Somebodyhandedhimabook.Helookedatit,nodded,andslippeditintohispocket.'Farewell,'hesaidasheturnedtotheopendoor.'In God's name!' said the Woman of Gratz, trembling, 'go in peace, LittleFather.'AndthemanJessen,sometimeheadsmantotheSupremeCouncil,andlatterly

publicexecutionerofEngland,walkedout,nomanbarringhisexit.Thepowerof theRedHundredwasbroken.ThismuchFalmouthknew.Hekeptanever-vigilantbandofmenondutyatthegreatterminiofLondon,andtothesewereattachedthemembersofadozensecretpoliceforcesofEurope.Daybyday,therewasthesamereporttomake.Suchandsuchaman,whoseverypresenceinLondonhadbeenunsuspected,hadleftviaHarwich.So-and-so, surprisingly sprung from nowhere, had gone by the eleven o'clock trainfromVictoria;bytheHullandStockholmroutetwentyhadgoneinoneday,andtherewereotherswhomadeLiverpool,Glasgow,andNewcastletheirportofembarkation.I think that itwas only then that ScotlandYard realized the strength of theforce thathad lain inert in themetropolis,orappreciated thepossibilitiesfordestructionthathadbeentohandinthedaysoftheTerror.Certainly every batch of names that appeared on the commissioner's deskmadehimmorethoughtfulthanever.'Arrestthem!'hesaidinhorrorwhenthesuggestionwasmade. 'Arrestthem!Lookhere,haveyoueverseendriverantsattackahouseinAfrica?Marchingin, in endlessbattalions atmidnight and clearingout everything living fromchickenstobeetles?Haveyoueverseenthemre-forminthemorningandgomarchinghomeagain?Youwouldn't thinkofarresting 'em,wouldyou?No,you'djustsitdownquietlyoutoftheirreachandbehappywhenthelastlittleredleghasdisappearedroundthecorner!'Those who knew the Red Hundred best were heartily in accord with hisphilosophy.'TheycaughtJessen,'reportedFalmouth.'Oh!'saidthecommissioner.'Whenhedisclosedhisidentity,theygotridofhimquick.''I'veoftenwonderedwhytheFourJustMendidn'tdothebusinessofStarquethemselves,'musedtheCommissioner.'Itwasratherrum,'admittedFalmouth,'butStarquewasamanundersentence,asalsowasFrancois.Bysomemeanstheygotholdof theoriginalwarrants,anditwasonthesethatJessen—didwhathedid.'Thecommissionernodded.'Andnow,'heasked,'whataboutthem?'Falmouthhad expected this question sooner or later. 'Do you suggest that we shouldcatchthem,sir?'-heaskedwiththinlyveiledsarcasm;'becauseifyoudo,sir,Ihaveonlytoremindyouthatwe'vebeentryingtodothatforsomeyears.'Thechiefcommissionerfrowned.'It'saremarkablething,'hesaid,'thatassoonaswegetasituationsuchas—the Red Hundred scare and the Four Just Men scare, for instance, we'recompletely at sea, and that's what the papers will say. It doesn't sound

creditable,butit'sso."Iplacethesuperintendent'sdefenceofScotlandYardonrecordinextenso.'What the papers say,' said Falmouth, 'never keeps me awake at night.Nobody'squitegotthehangofthepoliceforceinthiscountry—certainlythewritingpeoplehaven't.'Therearetwowaysofwritingaboutthepolice,sir.Onewayistodealwiththeminthenewspaperfashionwiththeheadline"AnotherPoliceBlunder"or"ThePolice andThePublic", and the otherway is to dealwith them in themagazinestyle,whichistoshowthemassoftiesonthewrongscent,whilstanornamental civilian is showing them their business, or asmysterious peoplewithfalsebeardswhopopupatthepsychologicalmoment,andsayinaloudvoice,"InthenameoftheLaw,Iarrestyou!"'Well, I don't mind admitting that I know neither kind. I've been a policeofficerfortwenty-threeyears,andtheonlyassistanceI'vehadfromacivilianwasfromamannamedBlackie,whohelpedmetofindthebodyofawomanthat had disappeared. I was rather prejudiced against him, but I don't mindadmitting that he was pretty smart and followed his clues with remarkableingenuity.'ThedaywefoundthebodyIsaidtohim:'"Mr. Blackie, you have given me a great deal of information about thiswoman'smovements—infact,youknowagreatdealmorethanyououghttoknow—soIshalltakeyouintocustodyonthesuspicionofhavingcausedherdeath."'Beforehediedhemadeafullconfession,andeversincethenIhavealwaysbeenpleasedtotakeasmuchadviceandhelpfromoutsideasIcouldget.'WhenpeoplesometimesaskmeabouttheclevernessofScotlandYard,Ican'ttell'emtalessuchasyoureadabout.I'vehadmurderers,anarchists,burglars,andaverage low-downpeople todealwith, but theyhavemostlydone theirwork in a commonplaceway and bolted.And as soon as they have bolted,we'veemployedfairlycommonplacemethodsandbrought'emback.'IfyouaskmewhetherI'vebeenindreadfuldanger,whenarrestingdesperatemurderersandcriminals,Isay"No".'Whenyouraveragecriminal findshimselfcornered,hesays,"All right,Mr.Falmouth;it'sacop",andgoesquietly.'Crime and criminals run in grooves. They're hardy annuals with perennialmethods. Extraordinary circumstances baffle the police as they baffle otherfolks.Youcan'trunabusinessonbusinesslinesandbeabsolutelypreparedforanythingthatturnsup.Whiteley'swillsupplyyouwithafleaoranelephant,but if awoman asked a shopgirl to hold her babywhilst shewent into the

tinnedmeatdepartment,thegirlandthemanagerandthewholesystemwouldbe floored, because there is no provision for holding babies. And if aManchestergoodsmerchant,unrollinghisstuff,cameuponasnake lyingallsnuginthebale,he'dbeflooredtoo,becausenaturalhistoryisn'tpartoftheirbusinesstraining,andtheywouldn'tbequitesurewhetheritwasabigwormoraboaconstrictor.'TheCommissionerwasamused.'You'veanaltogetherunexpectedsenseofhumour,'hesaid, 'andthemoralis—''That the unexpected always floors you,whether it's humour or crime,' saidFalmouth,andwentawayfairlypleasedwithhimself.Inhisroomhefoundawaitingmessenger.'Aladytoseeyou,sir.''Whoisit?'heaskedinsurprise.Themessengerhandedhimaslipofpaperandwhenhereadithewhistled.'Theunexpected,by—!Showherup.'Onthepaperwaswritten—'TheWomanofGratz...'

XI. —MANFRED

MANFREDsataloneinhisLewishamhouse,—hewasknowntotheoldladywhowashiscaretakeras'aforeigngentlemaninthemusicline'—andinthesubduedlightoftheshadedlamp,helookedtired.Abooklayonthetablenearathand,andasilvercoffee-serviceandanemptycoffee-cupstoodonthestoolbyhisside.Reactionhefelt.Thisstrangemanhadsethimself toa task thatwasneverending.Thedestructionoftheforcesof theRedHundredwastheendofafightthatclearedthegroundforthecommencementofanother—butphysicallyhewasweary.GonsalezhadleftthatmorningforParis,Poiccartwentbytheafternoontrain,andhewastojointhemtomorrow.Thestrainofthefighthadtoldonthem,allthree.Financially,thecostofthewarhadbeenheavy,butthatstraintheycouldstandbetterthananyother,forhadtheynotthefortuneof—Courtlander;incaseofneedtheyknewtheirman.All the world had been searched before they—the first Four— had cometogether—Manfred,Gonsalez,Poiccart,andthemanwhoslepteternallyintheflower-growngraveatBordeaux.Asmentakingtheoathsofpriesthoodtheyliveddownthepassionsandfretsoflife.Eachmanwasanopenbooktothe

other, speaking his most secret thought in the faith of sympathy, onedominatingthoughtcontrollingthemall.TheyhadmadethenameoftheFourJustMenfamousorinfamous(accordingto your point of reckoning) throughout the civilizedworld. They came as anewforce intopublicandprivate life.Thereweremen,freeof the law,whoworked misery on their fellows; dreadful human ghouls fattening on thebodiesandsoulsoftheinnocentandhelpless;greatmagnatescallingthelawtotheiraid,orpushingitasideascircumstancesdemanded.Allthesebecameamenable toanewlaw,anewtribunal.Therehadgrownintobeingsystemswhich defied correction; corporations beyond chastisement; individualsprotectedbycunninglydrawnlegislation,andotherswhoknewtoaninchthescope of toleration. In the name of justice, these men struck swiftly,dispassionately,mercilessly.Thegreatswindler,theprocureur,thesubornerofwitnesses,thebriberofjuries—theydied.Therewasnogradationofpunishment:awarning,a secondwarning—thendeath.Thus their name became a symbol, at which the evildoer went tremblinglyabouthiswork,dreadingthewarningandreadyinmostcasestoheedit.Lifebecameasweeter,amorewholesomethingformanymenwhofoundthethingreenish-grey envelope on their breakfast-table in the morning; but otherspersistedontheirway,loudlyinvokingthelaw,whichinspirit,ifnotinletter,theyhadoutraged.Theendwasverysure,andIdonotknowofonemanwhoescapedtheconsequence.Speculating on their identity, the police of the world decided unanimouslyupon two points. The first was that these men were enormously rich—asindeed they were, and the second that one or two of them were no meanscientists—that also was true. Of the fourth man who had joined themrecently,speculationtookawiderturn.Manfredsmiledashethoughtofthisfourthmember, of his honesty, his splendid qualities of heart and brain, hisenthusiasm, and his proneness to 'lapse from the balance'—Gonsalez coinedthephrase.Itwasanaffectionatesmile.Thefourthmanwasnolongerofthebrotherhood; he had gone, the work being completed, and there were otherreasons.SoManfredwasmusing, till the little clock on themantelpiece chimed ten,thenhelitthespirit-kettleandbrewedanothercupofcoffee.Thusengaged,heheardthefar-awaytinkleofabellandtheopeningofadoor.Thenamurmurofvoicesand twostepson thestairs.Hedidnotexpectvisitors,buthewasalwayspreparedforthematanyhour.'Comein,'hesaid,inanswertotheknock;herecognizedtheapologeticrapofhishousekeeper.

'Alady—aforeignladytoseeyou.'—''Showherin,please,'hesaidcourteously.Hewasbusywiththekettlewhenshecamein.Hedidnotlookup,nordidheaskwhoitwas.Hishousekeeperstoodamomentuncertainonthethreshold,thenwentout,leavingthemtogether.'Youwillexcusemeamoment,'hesaid.'Pleasesitdown.'He poured out the coffee with a steady hand, walked to his desk, sorted anumberofletters,tossedthemintothegrate,andstoodforamomentwatchingthemburn,thenlookedather.Takingnonoticeofhisinvitation,thegirlstoodwaitingatease,onehandonherhip,theotherhangingloosely.'Won'tyousitdown?'heaskedagain.'Iprefertostand,'shesaidshortly.'ThenyouarenotsotiredasIam,'hesaid,andsankbackintothedepthsofhischair.Shedidnotreply,andforafewsecondsneitherspoke.'HastheWomanofGratzforgottenthatsheisanorator?'hesaidbanteringly.Itseemed tohim that therewas in thoseeyesofhersagreatyearning, andhechangedhistone.'Sitdown,Maria,'hesaidgently.Hesawtheflushthatrosetohercheek,andmistookitssignificance.'No, no!' he hastened to rectify an impression. 'I am serious now, I am notgibing—whyhaveyounotgonewiththeothers?''Ihaveworktodo,'shesaid.Hestretchedouthishandsinagestureofweariness.'Work,work,work!'hesaidwithabittersmile, 'isn't theworkfinished?Isn'tthereanendtothisworkofyours?''Theendisathand,'shesaid,andlookedathimstrangely.'Sitdown,'hecommanded,andshetookthenearestchairandwatchedhim.Thenshebrokethesilence.'Whatareyou?'sheasked,withanoteofirritation.'Whogave'authority?'Helaughed.'WhatamI—justaman,Maria.Authority?Asyouunderstandit-none.'Shewasthoughtfulforamoment.'YouhavenotaskedmewhyIhavecome,'shesaid.

'I have not asked myself—yet it seems natural that you and I should meetagain—topart.''Whatdotheycallyou—yourfriends?'sheaskedsuddenly.'Dotheysay"themanwith thebeard",or"the tallman"—didanywomanevernurseyouandcallyoubyname?'Ashadowpassedoverhisfaceforasecond.'Yes,'hesaidquietly;'IhavetoldyouIamhuman;neitherdevilnordemi-god,noproductofsea-foamorwitches'cauldron,'hesmiled, 'butasonofearthlyparents—andmencallmeGeorgeManfred.''George,' she repeated as though learning a lesson. 'George Manfred.' Shelookedathimlongandearnestly,andfrowned.'Whatisityouseethatdispleasesyou?'heasked.'Nothing,' she said quickly, 'only I am—I cannot understand —you aredifferent—''From what you expected.' She bent her head. 'You expected me to air atriumph.Toplacemyselfindefence?'Shenoddedagain.'No,no,'hewenton,'thatisfinished.Idonotpursueavictory—Iamsatisfiedthat the power of your friends is shattered. I dissociate you from thehumiliationoftheirdefeat.''Iamnobetternorworsethanthey,'shesaiddefiantly.'You will be better when the madness passes,' he said gravely, 'when yourealize that your young life was not meant for the dreadful sacrifice ofanarchy.'Heleantoverandtookherlistlesshandandhelditbetweenhispalms.'Child,youmustleavethiswork,'hesaidsoftly,'forgetthenightmareofyourpast—put itoutofyourmind,so thatyouwillcome tobelieve that theRedHundredneverexisted.'Shedidnotdrawawayherhand,nordidsheattempt tocheck the tears thatcame to her eyes. Something had entered her soul—an influence that wasbeyondalldescriptionordefinition.Awonderfulelement thathaddissolvedthethingofgraniteandsteel, thatshehadfondlythoughtwasherheart,andleftherweakandshakingintheprocess.'Maria,ifyoueverknewamother'slove'—howsofthisvoicewas—'thinkofthat:haveyoueverrealizedwhatyourtinylifewastoher—howsheplannedandthoughtandsufferedforyou—andtowhatend?Thatthehandsshekissedshouldbesetagainstmen'slives!DidshepraytoGodthatHemightkeepyoustronginhealthandpureinsoul—onlythatHisgiftsshouldproveacursetoHisbeautifulworld?'

Withthetendernessofafatherhedrewhertohim,tillshewasonherkneesbeforehimandherweepingfacewaspressedcloselyagainsthim.Hisstrongarmswereabouther,andhishandsmoothedherhair.'Iamawickedwoman,'shesobbed,'awicked,wickedwoman.''Hush,' he said sadly; 'donot let us takeour conceptionofwickedness fromour deeds, but from our intentions, however mistaken, however much theytraversethewrittenlaw.'Buthersobbinggrewwilder,andsheclutchedhimas thoughinfear thathewouldleaveher.Hetalkedtoherasthoughshewereafrightenedchild,chidingher,laughingatheringentleraillery,andshegrewcalmerandpresentlyliftedherstainedfacetohis.'Listen,'shesaid;'I—I—oh,Icannot,Icannotsayit.'Andsheburiedherfaceonherbreast.Thenwithaneffortsheraisedherheadagain.'IfIaskedyou—ifIbeggedyoutodosomethingforme—wouldyou?'Helookedintohereyes,smiling.'You have donemany things—you have killed—yes—yes, letme say it—IknowIamhurtingyou,butletmefinish.''Yes,'hesaidsimply;'Ihavekilled.''Haveyou—pitiedasyoukilled?'Heshookhishead.'Yetyouwould,'shewenton,andherdistressmovedhim,'youwouldifyouthoughtthatyoucouldkillabodyandsaveasoul.'Heshookhisheadagain.'Yes,yes,'shewhispered,andtriedtospeak.Twicesheattemptedtoframethewords,andtwiceshefailed.Thenshepushedherselfslowlybackwardswithherhandsathischest,andcrouchedbeforehimwithpartedlipsandheavingbosom.'Killme,'shebreathed,'forIhavebetrayedyoutothepolice.'Stillhemadenosign,sittingthereallhuddledinthebigchair,asthougheverymuscleofhisbodyhadrelaxed.'Do you hear?' she cried fiercely. 'I have betrayed you because—I think—Iloveyou—butI—Ididnotknowit—Ididnotknowit!IhatedyousothatIpitiedyou—andalwaysIthoughtofyou!'Sheknewbythelookofpaininhiseyeswhatherwordshadcosthim.

Somehowshedivinedthatthebetrayalhurtleast.'Ihaveneversaidittomyself,'shewhispered;'Ihaveneverthoughtitinmymost secret thoughts—yet it was there, there all the time, waiting forexpression—andIamhappier,thoughyoudie,andthougheveryhourofmylife be a lifetime of pain, I am happier that I have said it, happier than IthoughtIcouldeverbe.'IhavewonderedwhyIrememberedyou,andwhyIthoughtofyou,andwhyyoucameintomyeverydream.IthoughtitwasbecauseIhatedyou,becauseIwanted tokill you, and toholdyouatmymercy—but I knownow, I knownow.'She rocked from side to side, clasping her hands in the intensity of herpassion.'Youdonotspeak?'shecried.'Doyounotunderstand,beloved?Ihavehandedyouovertothepolice,because—OGod!becauseIloveyou!ItmustbethatIdo!'Heleantforwardandheldouthishandsandshecametohimhalfswooning.'Marie,child,'hemurmured,andshesawhowpalehewas, 'wearestrangelyplaced,youandItotalkoflove.Youmustforgetthis,littlegirl;letthisbethewakingpointofyourbaddream;goforthintothenewlife—intoalifewhereflowersare,andbirdssing,andwhererestandpeaceis.'Shehadnothoughtnowsaveforhisdanger.'Theyarebelow,'shemoaned.'Ibroughtthemhere—Iguidedthem.'Hesmiledintoherface.'Iknew,'hesaid.Shelookedathimincredulously.'Youknew,'shesaid,slowly.'Yes—whenyoucame'—hepointedtotheheapofburntpapersinthegrate—'Iknew.'Hewalkedtothewindowandlookedout.Whathesawsatisfiedhim.He cameback towhere she still crouchedon the floor and lifted her to herfeet.Shestoodunsteadily,buthisarmsupportedher.Hewaslistening,heheardthedooropenbelow.'Youmustnotthinkofme,'hesaidagain.Sheshookherheadhelplessly,andherlipsquivered.'Godblessyouandhelpyou,'hesaidreverently,andkissedher.

ThenheturnedtomeetFalmouth.'GeorgeManfred,'saidtheofficer,andlookedatthegirlinperplexity.'Thatismyname,'saidManfredquietly.'YouareInspectorFalmouth.''Superintendent,'correctedtheother.'I'msorry,'saidManfred.'Ishalltakeyouintocustody,'saidFalmouth,'onsuspicionofbeingamemberofanorganizationknownastheFourJustMen,andaccordinglyconcernedinthefollowingcrimes—''Iwillexcuseyoutherecital,'saidManfredpleasantly,andheldouthishands.Forthefirsttimeinhislifehefeltthecoldcontactofsteelathiswrists.The man who snapped the handcuffs on was nervous and bungled, andManfred,afteraninterestedglanceatthegyves,liftedhishands.'Thisisnotquitefastened,'hesaid.Thenastheyclosedroundhim,hehalfturnedtowardthegirlandsmiled.'Whoknowshowbrightarethedaysinstoreforusboth?'hesaidsoftly.Thentheytookhimaway.

XII. —INWANDSWORTHGAOL

CHARLES GARRETT, admirable journalist, had written the last line of ahumorousdescriptionofalocalconcertatwhichacabinetministerhadsungpathetic ballads. Charleswrotewith difficulty, for the situation had been ofitselfsofunny,thatextractingitshiddenhumourswasamorethanordinarilyheartbreakingthing.Buthehadfinishedandthethickbatchofcopylayonthechiefsub-editor'sdesk—Charleswroteonanaveragesixwordstoafolio,andahalfacolumnstoryfromhispenbulkedlikeathree-volumenovel.Charlesstoppedtothreatenanoffice-boywhohadmisdirectedaletter,strolledintovariousquietoffices to 'seewhowas there'andwithhis raincoatonhisarm,andhisstickinhishand,stoppedattheendofhiswanderingsbeforethechattering tapemachine. He looked through the glass box that shielded themechanism, andwas interested in amessage fromTeheran in the course oftransmission.'...atearlydate.GrandVizierhasinformedExchangeCorrespondentthattheconstructionoflinewillbepushedforward...'Thetapestoppeditsstutteringandbuzzedexcitedly,thencameasuccessionofquickjerksthatclearedawaytheuncompletedmessage.

Then'...theleaderoftheFourJustMenwasarrestedinLondontonight,'saidthetape,andCharlesbrokefortheeditor'sroom.He flung open the door without ceremony, and repeated the story the littlemachinehadtold.Thegreychief received thenewsquietly,and theordershegave in thenextfiveminutesinconveniencedsometwentyorthirtyunoffendingpeople.Theconstructionofthe'story'oftheFourJustMen,beganatthelowerrungoftheintellectualladder.'Youboy!gethalfadozentaxicabsherequick...Poynter,'phonethereportersin...gettheLambsClubonthe'phoneandseeifO'Mahonyoranyotherofourbright youths are there... There are five columns about the Four Just Menstandinginthegallery,getitpulledup,Mr.Short...pictures—h'm...yetwireMassonnitogetdowntothepolicestationandseeifhecanfindapolicemanwho'llgivehimmaterialforasketch...Offyougo,Charles,andgetthestory.'There was no flurry, no rush; it was for all the world like the scene on amodernbattleshipwhen'clearlowerdeckforaction'hadsounded.Twohourstogetthestoryintothepaperwasample,andtherewasnoneedforthewhip.Later,withtheremorselesshandsoftheclockmovingon,taxiaftertaxiflewup to the great newspaper office, discharging alert youngmenwho literallyleaptintothebuilding.Later,withwaitingoperatorssittingtenselybeforethekeyboardsofthelinotypes,cameCharlesGarrettdoingnotablethingswithastumpofpencilandareamofthincopypaper.It was theMegaphone that shone splendidly amidst its journalistic fellows,withpages—IquotetheenvenomedopinionofthenewseditoroftheMercury—that'shoutedlikethechecksonabookmaker'swaistcoat'.It was theMegaphone that fed the fires of public interest, and wasmainlyresponsibleforthehugecrowdsthatgatheredoutsideGreenwichPoliceCourt,andoverflowedindensemassestothefootofBlackheathHill,whilstManfredunderwenthispreliminaryinquiries.'GeorgeManfred,aged39,ofnooccupation,residingatHillCrestLodge,StJohn's.'Inthisprosaicmannerhewasintroducedtotheworld.Hemadeastrikingfigureinthesteel-raileddock.Achairwasplacedforhim,and hewas guarded as few prisoners had been guarded. A special cell hadbeenpreparedforhisreception,anddepartingfromestablishedcustom,extrawardersweredetailedtowatchhim.Falmouthtooknorisks.Thecharge thathadbeen framedhad todowithnowell-knowncase.Manyyears before, one Samuel Lipski, a notorious East End sweater, had beenfounddeadwiththestereotypedannouncementthathehadfallentothejusticeof theFour.Upon this theTreasury founded itscase for theprosecution—a

casewhichhadbeenverythoroughlyandconvincinglyprepared,andpigeon-holedagainstsuchtimeasarrestshouldovertakeoneortheotheroftheFourJustMen.Reading over the thousands of newspaper cuttings dealing with thepreliminaryexaminationandtrialofManfred,Iamstruckwiththeabsenceofanystartlingfeature,suchasonemightexpecttofindinagreatstatetrialofthisdescription.Summarizingtheevidencethatwasgivenatthepolicecourt,onemightarrangethe'parts'ofthedozenorsocommonplacewitnessessothattheyread:Apoliceman:'Ifoundthebody.'Aninspector:'Ireadthelabel.'Adoctor:'Ipronouncedhimdead.'An only man with a slight squint and broken English: 'This man Lipski, Iknown him, he were a goot man andmake the business wit the head, ker-vick.'Andthelike.Manfredrefusedtoplead'guilty'or'notguilty'.Hespokeonlyonceduringthepolicecourtproceedings,andthenonlywhentheformalquestionhadbeenputtohim.'Iampreparedtoabidebytheresultofmytrial,'hesaidclearly,'anditcannotmattermuchonewayortheotherwhetherIplead"guilty"or"notguilty".''Iwillenteryourpleaas"notguilty",'saidthemagistrate.Manfredbowed.'Thatisatyourworship'sdiscretion,'hesaid.On the seventhof Junehewas formallycommitted for trial.Hehada shortinterviewwithFalmouthbeforehewasremovedfromthepolice-courtcells.Falmouth would have found it difficult to analyse his feelings towards thisman.He scarcely knew himself whether hewas glad or sorry that fate hadthrowntheredoubtableleaderintohishands.His attitude to Manfred was that of a subordinate to a superior, and thatattitudehewouldhavefoundhardesttoexplain.Whenthecelldoorwasopenedtoadmitthedetective,Manfredwasreading.Herosewithacheerysmiletogreethisvisitor.'Well, Mr. Falmouth,' he said lightly, 'we enter upon the second and moreseriousactofthedrama.''Idon'tknowwhetherI'mgladorsorry,'saidFalmouthbluntly.

'You ought to be glad,' said Manfred with his quizzical smile. 'For you'vevindicated—''Yes,Iknowallaboutthat,'saidFalmouthdryly,'butit'stheotherpanIhate.''Youmean—?'Manfreddidnotcompletethequestion.'Ido—it'sahangingjob,Mr.Manfred,andthatisthehatefulbusinessafterthewonderfulworkyou'vedoneforthecountry.'Manfredthrewbackhishead,andlaughedinunrestrainedamusement.'Oh, it's nothing to laugh about,' said the plain-spoken detective, 'you areagainstabadproposition—theHomeSecretaryisacousinofRamon's,andhehatestheverynameoftheFourJustMen.''YetImaylaugh,'saidManfredcalmly,'forIshallescape.'Therewas no boastfulness in the speech, but a quiet assurance that had theeffectofnettlingtheother.'Oh,youwill,willyou?'hesaidgrimly.'Well,weshallsee.'Therewasno escape forManfred in thedozenyardsor sobetweenhis celldoorandtheprisonvan.Hewasmanacledtotwowarders,andadoublelineofpolicemenformedanavenuethroughwhichhewasmarched.Notfromthevanitselfthatmovedinasolidphalanxofmountedmenwithdrawnswords.Nor from the gloomy portals ofWandsworth Gaol where silent, uniformedmenclosedroundhimandtookhimtothetriple-lockedcell.Onceinthenight,asheslept,hewasawakenedbythesoundofthechangingguard,andthisamusedhim.If one had the space towrite, one could compile awhole book' concerningManfred's life during the weeks he lay in gaol awaiting trial. He had hisvisitors.Unusual laxitywas allowed in this respect.Falmouthhoped to findtheothertwomen.HegenerouslyconfessedhishopetoManfred.'Youmaymake yourmind easy on that point,' saidManfred; 'theywill notcome.'Falmouthbelievedhim.'Ifyouwereanordinarycriminal,Mr.Manfred,' he said smilingly, 'I shouldhintthepossibilitiesofKing'sevidence,butIwon'tinsultyou.'Manfred'sreplystaggeredhim.'Ofcoursenot,'hesaidwithanairofinnocence;'iftheywerearrested,whoonearthwouldarrangemyescape?'TheWomanofGratzdidnotcometoseehim,andhewasglad.

He had his daily visits from the governor, and found him charminglyagreeable.Theytalkedofcountriesknowntoboth,ofpeoplewhomeachknewequallywell,andtacitlyavoidedforbiddensubjects.Only—'I hear you are going to escape?' said the governor, as he concluded one ofthesevisits.Hewasalargelybuiltman,sometimeMajorofMarineArtillery,andhetooklifeseriously.ThereforehedidnotshareFalmouth'sviewoftheprojectedescapeasbeinganill-timedjest.'Yes,'repliedManfred.'Fromhere?'Manfredshookhisheadsolemnly.'Thedetailshavenotyetbeenarranged,'hesaidwithadmirablegravity.Thegovernorfrowned.'Idon'tbelieveyou'retryingtopullmyleg—it'stoodevilishlyseriousamattertojokeabout—butitwouldbeanawkwardthingformeifyougotaway.'Hewasof theprisoner'sowncasteandhehadsupremefaith in thewordof themanwhodiscussedprison-breakingsolightheartedly.'That I realize,' said Manfred with a little show of deference, 'and I shallaccordinglyarrangemyplans,sothattheblameshallbeequallydistributed.'Thegovernor,stillfrowningthoughtfully,leftthecell.Hecamebackinafewminutes.'Bytheway,Manfred,'hesaid,'Iforgottotellyouthatyou'llgetavisitfromthechaplain.He'saverydecentyoungfellow,andIknowIneedn'taskyoutolethimdownlightly.'Withthissubtleassumptionofmutualpaganism,heleftfinally.'Thatisaworthygentleman,'thoughtManfred.Thechaplainwasnervouslyanxioustosecureanopening,andsoughtamidstthetrivialitiesthatledoutoftheconventionalexchangeofgreetingsafissurefortheinsertionofatactfulinquiry.Manfred, seeing his embarrassment, gave him the chance, and listenedrespectfullywhiletheyoungmantalked,earnestly,sincerely,manfully.'N-no,' said theprisoner after awhile, 'I don't think,Mr.Summers, that youand I hold very different opinions, if theywere all reduced to questions offaithandappreciationofGod'sgoodness—but Ihavegot toa stagewhere Ishrink from labelling my inmost beliefs with this or that creed, orcircumscribingtheboundlesslimitsofmyfaithwithwords.IknowyouwillforgivemeandbelievethatIdonotsaythisfromanydesiretohurtyou,butIhave reached, too, a phase of conviction where I am adamant to outsideinfluence.Forgoodorill,ImuststandbytheconceptionsthatIhavebuiltout

ofmyownlifeanditsteachings.'Thereisanother,andamorepracticalreason,'headded,'whyIshouldnotdoyouoranyotherchaplain thedisserviceof takingupyour time—Ihavenointentionofdying.'With this, the young minister was forced to be content. He met Manfredfrequently,talkingofbooksandpeopleandofstrangereligions.To the warders and those about him, Manfred was a source of constantwonder.Heneverweariedthemwiththerecitalofhiscomingattempt.Yetallthathesaidanddidseemedfoundedonthatonebasicarticleoffaith:Ishallescape.The governor took every precaution to guard against rescue.He applied forandsecuredreinforcementsofwarders,andManfred,onemorningatexerciseseeingstrangefacesamongsthisguards,banteredhimwithover-nervousness.'Yes,'saidtheMajor,'I'vedoubledthestaff.I'mtakingyouatyourword,thatis all—one must cling tight to the last lingering shreds of faith one has inmankind.Yousaythatyou'regoingtoescape,andIbelieveyou.'Hethoughtamoment,'I'vestudiedyou,'headded.'Indeed?''Nothere,'saidthegovernor,comprehendingtheprisoninasweepofhishand,'but outside—read about you and thought about you and a little dimlyunderstoodyou—thatmakesmecertainthatyou'vegotsomethingatthebackofyourmindwhenyoutalksoeasilyofescape.'Manfrednodded.Henoddedmanytimesthoughtfully,andfeltanewinterestinthebluff,brusqueman.'AndwhilstI'mdoublingtheguardandthatsortofthing,Iknowinmyheartthat that "something" of yours isn't "something" with dynamite in it, or"something"with brute force behind it, but it's "something" that's devilishlydeep—that'showIreadit.'He jerked his head in farewell, and the cell door closed behind himwith agreatjanglingandsnappingofkeys.He might have been tried at the sessions following his committal, but theCrownappliedforapostponement,andbeinginformedandaskedwhetherhewould care to raise anyobjection to that course, he replied that so far fromobjecting,hewasgrateful,becausehisarrangementswerenotyetcompleted,andwhentheyaskedhim,knowingthathehadrefusedsolicitorandcounsel,whatarrangementshereferred to,hesmiledenigmaticallyandtheyknewhewasthinkingofthiswonderfulplanofescape.Thatsuchpersistentassurancesof delivery should eventually reach the public through the public presswasonly to be expected, and although 'Manfred says he will escape from

Wandsworth' in the Megaphone headline, became 'A prisoner's strangestatement'inTheTimes,thesubstanceofthestorywasthesame,andyoumaybe sure that it lost nothing in the telling. A Sunday journal, with a waningcirculation, rallied on the discovery thatManfredwasmad, andpublished acolumn-longaccountofthis'poorlunaticgibberingoffreedom.'Being allowed to read the newspapers, Manfred saw this, and it kept himamusedforawholeday.Thewardersinpersonalattendanceonhimwerechangeddaily,heneverhadthe same custodian twice till the governor saw a flaw in the method thatallowedawarderwithwhomhewasonlyslightlyacquainted,andofwhoseintegrity he was ignorant, to come into close contact with his prisoner.Particularly did this danger threaten from the new officers who had beendrafted toWandsworth to reinforce the staff, and the governor went to theotherextreme,andtwotrustedmen,whohadgrownoldintheservice,werechosenforpermanentwatch-dogs.'You won't be able to have any more newspapers,' said the governor onemorning. 'I've had orders from headquarters—there have been somesuspicious-looking"agonies"intheMegaphonethislastdayorso.''Ididnotinsertthem,'saidManfred,smiling.'No—butyoumayhavereadthem,'saidthegovernordrily.'SoImighthave,'saidthethoughtfulManfred.'Didyou?'Manfredmadenoreply.'Isupposethatisn'tafairquestion,'saidthegovernorcheerfully;'anyhow,nomorepapers.Youcanhavebooks—anybooksyouwishwithinlimits.'So Manfred was denied the pleasure of reading the little paragraphs thatdescribedthemovementsanddoingsofthefashionableworld.Justthentheseinterestedhimmorethantherestofthenewspaperputtogether.Suchnewsashesecuredwasofanegativekindandthroughthegovernor.'AmIstillmad?'heasked.'No.''WasIborninBrittany—thesonofhumbleparents?''No—there'sanothertheorynow.''IsmyrealnamestillsupposedtobeIsadoresomething-or-other?''Youarenowamemberofanoblefamily,disappointedatanearlyagebyareigningprincess,'saidthegovernorimpressively.'Howromantic!'saidManfredinhushedtones.Thegravityofhisyears, thatwasbeyondhisyears,fellawayfromhiminthattimeofwaiting.Hebecame

almostboyishagain.Hehadanever-endingfundofhumourthatturnedeventhetremendousissuesofhistrialintosubject-matterofamusement.Armed with the authority of the Home Secretary came Luigi Fressini, theyouthfuldirectoroftheAnthropologicalInstituteofRome.Manfred agreed to see him andmade him aswelcome as the circumstancespermitted.Fressiniwas a little impressedwith his own importance, andhadtheprofessionalmannerstronglydeveloped.Hehadaperkywayofdroppinghisheadononesidewhenhemadeobservations,andremindedManfredofahorse-dealer blessed with a little knowledge, but anxious to discover at allhazardsthe'points'thatfittedinwithhispreconceivedtheories. 'Iwouldliketomeasureyourhead,'hesaid.'I'mafraidIcannotobligeyou,'saidManfredcoolly;'partlybecauseIobjecttotheannoyanceofit,andpartlybecausehead-measuringinanthropologyisasmuchoutofdateasbloodlettinginsurgery.'Thedirectorwasonhisdignity.'I'mafraidIcannottakelessonsinthescience—'hebegan.'Oh,yes,youcan,'saidManfred,'andyou'dbeagreatermanifyoudid.AsitisAntonio deCosta and FelixHedeman are both beating you on your ownground—that monograph of yours on 'Cerebral Dynamics' was awfulnonsense.'WhereuponFressiniwentveryredandsplutteredandleftthecell,afterwardsin his indiscretion granting an interview to an evening newspaper, in thecourse of which he described Manfred as a typical homicide with thosepeculiaritiesofparietaldevelopment,thatareinvariablyassociatedwithcold-bloodedmurderers.Forpublishingwhatconstitutedagrosscontemptofcourt,the newspaper was heavily fined, and at the instance of the BritishGovernment, Fressini was reprimanded, and eventually superseded by thatveryDeCostaofwhomManfredspoke.All these happenings formed the comedy of the long wait, and as to thetragedy,therewasnone.Aweekbefore the trialManfred, in the course of conversation, expressed adesireforafurthersupplyofbooks.'Whatdoyouwant?'askedthegovernor,andpreparedtotakeanote.'Oh, anything,' said Manfred lazily—'travel, biography, science, sport—anythingnewthat'sgoing.''I'll get you a list,' said the governor,whowas not a bookyman. 'The onlytravelbooksIknowarethosetwonewthings,ThreeMonthsinMoroccoandThrough the IturiForest.Oneof them'sbyanewman,TheodoreMax—do

youknowhim?'Manfredshookhishead.'ButI'lltrythem,'hesaid.'Isn't it about timeyou started to prepare your defence?' the governor askedgruffly.'Ihavehodefencetooffer,'saidManfred,'thereforenodefencetoprepare.'Thegovernorseemedvexed.'Isn'tlifesufficientlysweettoyou—tourgeyoutomakeanefforttosaveit?'heaskedroughly,'orareyougoingtogiveitupwithoutastruggle?''I shall escape,' saidManfred again; 'aren't you tired of hearingme tell youwhyImakenoefforttosavemyself?''When the newspapers start the "mad" theory again,' said the exasperatedprisonofficial, 'Ishallfeelmostinclinedtobreaktheregulationsandwritealetterinsupportofthespeculation.''Do,' saidManfred cheerfully, 'and tell them that I run roundmy cell on allfoursbitingvisitors'legs.'The next day the books arrived. Themysteries of the Ituri Forest remainedmysteries,butThreeMonthsinMorocco(bigprint,widemargins,12s.6d.)heread with avidity from cover to cover, notwithstanding the fact that thereviewers to a man condemned it as being the dullest book of the season.Whichwasanunkindlyreflectionupontheliterarymeritsofitsauthor,LeonGonsalez,whohadworked early and late toprepare thebook for thepress,writingfarintothenight,whilstPoiccart,sittingattheothersideofthetable,correctedthedampproofsastheycamefromtheprinter.

XIII. —THE'RATIONALFAITHERS'

INthehandsomelyfurnishedsitting-roomofaWestKensingtonflat,Gonsalezand Poiccart sat over their post-prandial cigars, each busy with his ownthoughts. Poiccart tossed his cigar into the fireplace and pulled out hispolishedbriarandslowlychargeditfromagiganticpouch.Leonwatchedhimunder half-closed lids, piecing together the scraps of information he hadcollectedfromhispersistentobservation.'Youaregettingsentimental,myfriend,'hesaid.Poiccartlookedupinquiringly.'You were smoking one of George's cigars without realizing it. Halfway

throughthesmokeyounoticedthebandhadnotbeenremoved,soyougototear itoff.By thebandyouare informed that it isoneofGeorge's favouritecigars,andthatstartsatrainofthoughtthatmakesthecigardistastefultoyou,andyoutossitaway.'Poiccartlithispipebeforereplying.'Spokenlikeacheaplittlemagazinedetective,'hesaidfrankly. 'IfyouwouldknowIwasawarethatitwasGeorge's,andfromexcessofloyaltyIwastryingto smoke it; halfway through I reluctantly concluded that friendship had itslimits;itisyouwhoaresentimental.'Gonsalezclosedhiseyesandsmiled.'There'sanotherreviewofyourbookintheEveningMirrortonight,'Poiccartwentonmaliciously;'haveyouseenit?'Therecumbentfigureshookitshead.'It says,' the merciless Poiccart continued, 'that an author who can makeMoroccoasdullasyouhavedone,wouldmake—''Spareme,'murmuredGonsalezhalfasleep.Theysatfortenminutes,thetick-tickofthelittleclockonthemantelpieceandtheregularpuffsfromPoiccart'spipebreakingthesilence.'Itwouldseemtome,'saidGonsalez,speakingwithclosedeyes,'thatGeorgeisinthepositionofamasterwhohassethistwopupilsadifficultproblemtosolve, quite confident that, difficult as it is, theywill surmount all obstaclesandsupplythesolution.''Ithoughtyouwereasleep,'saidPoiccart.'I was never more awake,' said Gonsalez calmly. 'I am only marshallingdetails.DoyouknowMr.PeterSweeney?''No,'saidPoiccart.'He's amemberof theBoroughCouncil ofChelmsford.Agreat and agoodman.'Poiccartmadenoresponse.'Heisalsotheheadandfrontofthe'RationalFaith'movement,ofwhichyoumayhaveheard.''Ihaven't,'admittedPoiccart,stolidbutinterested.'The"RationalFaithers",'Gonsalezexplainedsleepily,'areanoffshootoftheNew Unitarians, and the New Unitarians are a hotch-potch people withgrievances.'Poiccartyawned.'The"RationalFaithers",'Gonsalezwenton,'haveamissioninlife,theyhave

alsoabrassband,andacollectionofdrivellingsongs,composed,printedandgratuitouslydistributedbyMr.PeterSweeney,whoisamanofsubstance.'Hewassilentafterthisforquiteaminute.'Amission in life, and a nice loud brassy band—themembers ofwhich arepaidmonthlysalaries—byPeter.'Poiccartturnedhisheadandregardedhisfriendcuriously.'Whatisallthisabout?'heasked.'The"RationalFaithers",'themonotonousGonsalezcontinued,'arethesortofpeoplewho for all time have been in the eternalminority.They are againstthings, against public-houses, against music-halls, against meat eating, andvaccination—andcapitalpunishment,'herepeatedsoftly.Poiccartwaited.Yearsagotheywereregardedasanuisance—rowdiesbrokeuptheirmeetings;the police prosecuted them for obstruction, and some of themwere sent toprison and came out again, being presentedwith newly furbished haloes atmeatbreakfasts—Peterpresiding.'Now they have lived down their persecutions—martyrdom is not to be socheaply bought—they are an institution like the mechanical spinning jennyandfashionablesocialism—whichprovesthatifyougoondoingthingsoftenenoughandpersistently,sayingwithaloudvoice,"'probonopublico'",peoplewilltakeyouatyourownvaluation,andwilltolerateyou.'Poiccartwaslisteningintentlynow.'These people demonstrate—Peter is really well off, with heaps of slumproperty, and he has lured other wealthy ladies and gentlemen into themovement.Theydemonstrateonalloccasions.Theyhavechants—Petercallsthem"chants",and it isanicedistinction,stamping themas itdoeswith thestampofsemi-secularity—forthesefestivemoments,chantsfortheconfusionof vaccinators, and eaters of beasts, and such. But of all their "Services ofProtest"noneismorethorough,morebeautifullycomplete,thanthatwhichisspecially arranged to express their horror and abhorrence of capitalpunishment.'HispausewassolongthatPoiccartinterjectedanimpatient—'Well?''Iwastryingtothinkofthechant,'saidLeonthoughtfully.'IfIrememberrightoneversegoes—Comefightthegallantfight,Thishorrortoundo;

Twoblackswillnevermakeawhite,Norlegalmurdertoo.'Thelast line,'saidGonsaleztolerantly, 'isa triflevague,but itconveyswithdelicatesuggestiontheunderlyingmoralofthepoem.Thereisanotherversewhichhasforthemomenteludedme,butperhapsIshallthinkofitlater.'Hesatupsuddenlyandleantover,droppinghishandonPoiccart'sarm.'Whenweweretalkingof—ourplantheotherdayyouspokeofourgreatestdanger, the one thingwe could not avoid.Does it not seem to you that the"Rational Faithers" offer a solution with their querulous campaigns, theirdemonstrations,theirbrassybrassband,andtheirpreposterouschants?'Poiccartpulledsteadilyathispipe.'You'reawonderfulman,Leon,'hesaid.Leonwalkedover to thecupboard,unlockedit,anddrewoutabigportfoliosuchasartistsusetocarrytheirdrawingsin.Heuntiedthestringsandturnedovertheloosepages.ItwasacollectionthathadcosttheFourJustMenmuchtimeandagreatdealofmoney.'Whatareyougoingtodo?'askedPoiccart,astheother,slippingoffhiscoatandfixinghispince-nez,satdownbeforeabigplanhehadextractedfromtheportfolio.Leon tookupa finedrawing-penfromthe table,examined thenibwith the eye of a skilled craftsman, and carefully uncorked a bottle ofarchitect'sink.'Have you ever felt a desire to draw imaginary islands?' he asked, 'namingyourownbays,christeningyourcapes,creatingtownswithascratchofyourpen, and raisingupgreatmountainswithherringbone"strokes?Because I'mgoing to do something like that—I feel in thatmoodwhich in little boys iseloquentlydescribedas"trying",andIhavetheinclinationtoannoyScotlandYard.'ItwasthedaybeforethetrialthatFalmouthmadethediscovery.Tobeexactitwasmadeforhim.ThekeeperofaGowerStreetboardinghousereportedthattwomysteriousmen had engaged rooms. They came late at nightwith oneportmanteaubearingdiversforeign labels; theystudiouslykept their faces inthe shadow, and the beard of onewas obviously false. In addition towhichthey paid for their lodgings in advance, and that was the most damningcircumstance of all. Imagine mine host, showing them to their rooms,palpitatingwithhistremendoussuspicion,callingtothefulluponhispowersofsimulation,ostentatiouslynonchalant,andimpatienttoconveythenewstothe police-station round the corner. For one called the otherLeon, and theyspokedespairinglyinstagewhispersof'poorManfred'.They went out together, saying they would return soon after midnight,

orderingafirefortheirbedroom,forthenightwaswetandchilly.HalfanhourlaterthefullstorywasbeingtoldtoFalmouthoverthetelephone.'It'stoogoodtobetrue,'washiscomment,butgaveorders.Thehotelwaswellsurroundedbymidnight,butsoskilfullythatthecasualpasser-bywouldneverhavesuspectedit.Atthreeinthemorning,Falmouthdecidedthatthemenhadbeen warned, and broke open their doors to search the rooms. Theportmanteauwastheirsolefind.Afewarticlesofclothing,bearingthe'tab'ofaParisiantailor,wasalltheyfoundtillFalmouth,examiningthebottomoftheportmanteau,foundthatitwasfalse.'Hullo!'hesaid,andinthelightofhisdiscoverytheexclamationwasmodestin its strength, for, neatly folded, and cunningly hidden, he came upon theplans.Hegavethemarapidsurveyandwhistled.Thenhefoldedthemupandputthemcarefullyinhispocket.'Keep thehouseunderobservation,'heordered. 'Idon't expect they'll return,butiftheydo,take'em.'Thenhe flew through thedeserted streets as fast as amotor-car could carryhim,andwokethechiefcommissionerfromasoundsleep.'Whatisit?'heaskedasheledthedetectivetohisstudy.Falmouthshowedhimtheplans.Thecommissionerraisedhiseyebrows,andwhistled.'That'swhatIsaid,'confessedFalmouth.Thechiefspreadtheplansuponthebigtable.'Wandsworth, Pentonville and Reading,' said the commissioner, 'Plans, andremarkablygoodplans,ofallthreeprisons.'Falmouth indicated thewriting in the cramped hand and the carefully ruledlinesthathadbeendrawninredink.'Yes, I see them,' said the commissioner, and read ' "Wall 3 feet thick —dynamite here, warder on duty here—can be shot from wall, distance toentrancetoprisonhall25feet;condemnedcellhere,walls3feet,onewindow,barred10feet3inchesfromground".''They'vegotthethingdownveryfine—whatisthis—Wandsworth?''It's the same with the others, sir,' said Falmouth. 'They've got distances,heights and posts worked out; they must have taken years to get thisinformation.''Onethingisevident,'saidthecommissioner;'they'lldonothinguntilafterthetrial—alltheseplanshavebeendrawnwiththecondemnedcellasthepointofobjective.'

NextmorningManfredreceivedavisitfromFalmouth.'Ihavetotellyou,Mr.Manfred,'hesaid,'thatwehaveinourpossessionfulldetailsofyourcontemplatedrescue.'Manfredlookedpuzzled.'Lastnightyourtwofriendsescapedbytheskinoftheirteeth,leavingbehindthemelaborateplans—''Inwriting?'askedManfred,withhisquicksmile.'In writing,' said Falmouth solemnly. 'I think it is my duty to tell you this,because it seems thatyouarebuilding toomuchuponwhat ispracticallyanimpossibility,anescapefromgaol.''Yes,'answeredManfredabsently,'perhapsso—inwritingIthinkyousaid.''Yes,thewholethingwasworkedout'—hethoughthehadsaidquiteenough,and turned thesubject. 'Don'tyou thinkyouought tochangeyourmindandretainalawyer?''Ithinkyou'reright,'saidManfredslowly. 'Willyouarrangeforamemberofsomerespectablefirmofsolicitorstoseeme?''Certainly,'saidFalmouth,'thoughyou'veleftyourdefence—''Oh,itisn'tmydefence,'saidManfredcheerfully;'onlyIthinkIoughttomakeawill.'

XIV. —ATTHEOLDBAILEY

THEYwereprivilegedpeoplewhogainedadmissiontotheOldBailey,peoplewithticketsfromsheriffs,reporters,greatactors,andverysuccessfulauthors.Theearlyeditionsof theeveningnewspapersannounced thearrivalof theselatter spectators. The crowd outside the court contented themselves withdiscussingthepastandtheprobablefutureoftheprisoner.The Megaphone had scored heavily again, for it published in extenso theparticulars of the prisoner's will. It referred to this in its editorial columnsvariously as 'AnAstoundingDocument' and 'AnExtraordinaryFragment'. Itwasremarkablealikefortheamountbequeathed,andforthegenerosityofitslegacies.Nearlyhalfamillionwasthesumdisposedof,andofthistheastonishingsumof£60,000wasbequeathedto'thesectknownasthe"RationalFaithers"forthe furtherance of their campaign against capital punishment', a staggeringlegacyrememberingthattheFourJustMenknewonlyonepunishmentforthepeoplewhocameunderitsban.

'Youwantthiskeptquiet,ofcourse,'saidthelawyerwhenthewillhadbeenattested.'Not a bit,' saidManfred; 'in fact I think you had better hand a copy to theMegaphone.''Areyouserious?'askedthedumbfoundedlawyer.'Perfectlyso,'saidtheother.'Whoknows,'hesmiled,'itmightinfluencepublicopinionin—er—myfavour.'Sothefamouswillbecamepublicproperty,andwhenManfred,climbingthenarrowwoodenstairsthatledtothedockoftheOldBailey,camebeforethecrowdedcourt,itwasthislatestfreakofhisthatthehummingcourtdiscussed.'Silence!'He looked round thebigdockcuriously, andwhenawarderpointedout theseat,henodded,andsatdown.Hegotupwhentheindictmentwasread.'Areyouguiltyornotguilty?'hewasasked,andrepliedbriefly:'Ienternoplea.'Hewasinterestedintheprocedure.Thescarlet-robedjudgewithhisold,wiseface and his quaint, detached air interested him mostly. The businesslikesheriffs in furs, the clergymanwho sat with crossed legs, the triple row ofwiggedbarristers,theslavingbenchofreporterswiththeirfiercewhispersofinstructionsastheypassedtheircopytothewaitingboys,andthestrongforceofpolicethatheldthecourt:theyhadallaspecialinterestforhim.The leader for the Crown was a little man with a keen, strong face and aconvincingdramaticdelivery.Heseemedtobepossessedall the timewithadesire to deal fairly with the issues, fairly to the Crown and fairly to theprisoner.Hewasnotprepared,hesaid,tolabourcertainpointswhichhadbeenbroughtforwardatthepolice-courtinquiry,ortourgethejurythattheaccusedmanwaswhollywithoutredeemingqualities.Hewould not even say that themanwho had been killed, andwithwhosekilling Manfred was charged, was a worthy or a desirable citizen of thecountry.Witnesses who had come forward to attest their knowledge of thedeceased,wereominouslysilenton thepointofhismoralcharacter.Hewasquitepreparedtoacceptthestatementhewasabadman,anevilinfluenceonhis associates, a corrupting influence on the young women whom heemployed,abreakeroflaws,ablackguard,adebauchee.'But, gentlemen of the jury,' said the counsel impressively, 'a civilizedcommunity such as ours has accepted a system—intricate and imperfectthough itmay be—bywhich thewicked and the evil-minded are punished.Generationupongenerationofwiselaw-givershavemouldedandamendeda

scaleofpunishment tomeet everyknowndelinquency. Ithasestablished itssystem laboriously, making great national sacrifices for the principles thatsystem involved. It has wrested with its life-blood the charters of a greatliberty—thelibertyofalawadministeredbyitschosenofficersandappliedinthespiritofuntaintedequity.'SohewentontospeakoftheFourJustMenwhohadfoundedamachineryforpunishment, who had gone outside and had overridden the law; who hadcondemned and executed their judgment independent and in defiance of theestablishedcode.'AgainIsay,thatIwillnotcommitmyselftothestatementthattheypunishedunreasonably: that with the evidence against their victims, such as theypossessed, the lawofficersof theCrownwouldhavehesitatedat initiatingaprosecution. If ithadpleased them tohave takenanabstractviewof thisorthat offence, and theyhad said this or thatman is deservingof punishment,we, the representativesof theestablished law,couldnothavequestioned foronemomentthejusticeoftheirreasoning.Butwehavecomeintoconflictonthe question of the adequacy of punishment, and upon the more seriousquestionoftherightoftheindividualtoinflictthatpunishment,whichresultsintheappearanceofthismaninthedockonachargeofmurder.'Throughout the opening speech, Manfred leant forward, following thecounsel'swords.Onceor twicehenodded,as thoughhewere inagreementwith thespeaker,andneveroncedidheshowsignofdissent.Thewitnesses came in procession.The constable again, and the doctor, andthevolublemanwiththesquint.Ashefinishedwitheach,thecounselaskedwhetherhehadanyquestiontoput,butManfredshookhishead.'Haveyoueverseentheaccusedbefore?'thejudgeaskedthelastwitness.'No,sar,Ihafnot,'saidthewitnessemphatically, 'Ihafnot'ingtosayagainsthim.'Asheleftthewitness-box,hesaidaudibly:'There are anoder three yet—Ihaf nodesire to die,' and amidst the laughterthatfollowedthisexhibitionofcaution,Manfredrecalledhimsharply.'Ifyouhavenoobjection,mylord?'hesaid.'Nonewhatever,'repliedthejudgecourteously.'Youhavementionedsomethingaboutanotherthree,'hesaid.'Doyousuggestthattheyhavethreatenedyou?''No,sar—no!'saidtheeagerlittleman.'I cannot examine counsel,' saidManfred, smiling; 'but I put it to him, that

therehasbeennosuggestionofintimidationofwitnessesinthiscase.''None whatever,' counsel hastened to say; 'it is due to you to make thatstatement.''Against this man'—the prisoner pointed to the witness-box— 'we havenothing that would justify our action. He is a saccharine smuggler, and adealerinstolenproperty—butthelawwilltakecareofhim.''It'salie,'saidthelittlemaninthebox,whiteandshaking;'itislibellous!'Manfredsmiledagainanddismissedhimwithawaveofhishand.Thejudgemighthavereprovedtheprisonerforhisirrelevantaccusation,butallowedtheincidenttopass.Thecase for theprosecutionwasdrawing toaclosewhenanofficialof thecourt came to the judge's side and, bending down, began a whisperedconversationwithhim.As the finalwitnesswithdrew, the judgeannouncedanadjournmentand theprosecutingcounselwassummonedtohislordship'sprivateroom.Inthecellsbeneaththecourt,Manfredreceivedahintatwhatwascomingandlookedgrave.Aftertheinterval,thejudge,ontakinghisseat,addressedthejury:'Inacasepresentingtheunusualfeaturesthatcharacterizethis,'hesaid,'itistobeexpectedthattherewilloccurincidentsofanalmostunprecedentednature.Thecircumstancesunderwhichevidencewillbegivennow,are,however,notentirelywithoutprecedent.'Heopenedathicklawbookbeforehimataplacemarkedbyaslipofpaper.'HereintheQueenagainstForsythe,andearlier,theQueen againstBerander, and earlier still and quoted in all these rulings, theKing against Sir Thomas Mandory, we have parallel cases.' He closed thebook.'Althoughtheaccusedhasgivenno intimationofhisdesire tocallwitnessesonhisbehalf, agentlemanhasvolunteeredhis evidence.Hedesires that hisnameshallbewithheld,andtherearepeculiarcircumstancesthatcompelmeto grant his request. Youmay be assured, gentlemen of the jury, that I amsatisfied both as to the identity of thewitness, and that he is in everywayworthyofcredence.'Henoddedasignaltoanofficer,andthroughthejudge'sdoortothewitnessboxtherewalkedayoungman.Hewasdressedinatightlyfittingfrockcoat,andacrosstheupperpartofhisfacewasahalfmask.He leant lightly over the rail, looking atManfredwith a little smile on hisclean-cutmouth,andManfred'seyeschallengedhim.'Youcometospeakonbehalfoftheaccused?'askedthejudge.

'Yes,mylord.'Itwasthenextquestionthatsentagaspofsurprisethroughthecrowdedcourt.'Youclaimequalresponsibilityforhisactions?''Yes,mylord!''Youare,infact,amemberoftheorganizationknownastheFourJustMen?''Iam.'He spoke calmly, and the thrill that the confession produced, left himunmoved.'You claim, too,' said the judge, consulting a paper before him, 'to haveparticipatedintheircouncils?''Iclaimthat.'Therewerelongpausesbetweenthequestions,forthejudgewascheckingtherepliesandcounselwaswritingbusily.'Andyousayyouareinaccordbothwiththeirobjectsandtheirmethods?''Absolutely.''Youhavehelpedcarryouttheirjudgment?''Ihave.''Andhavegivenitthesealofyourapproval?''Yes.''Andyoustatethat their judgmentswereanimatedwithahighsenseof theirdutyandresponsibilitytomankind?''Thoseweremywords.''Andthatthementheykilledwereworthyofdeath?''OfthatIamsatisfied.''Youstatethisasaresultofyourpersonalknowledgeandinvestigation?''I state this from personal knowledge in two instances, and from theinvestigations of myself and the independent testimony of high legalauthority.''Whichbringsmetomynextquestion,'saidthejudge.'DidyoueverappointacommissiontoinvestigateallthecircumstancesoftheknowncasesinwhichtheFourJustMenhavebeenimplicated?''Idid.''Was it composed of a Chief Justice of a certain European State, and foureminentcriminallawyers?'

'Itwas.''AndwhatyouhavesaidisthesubstanceofthefindingofthatCommission?''Yes.'The Judge nodded gravely and the public prosecutor rose to cross-examination.'BeforeIaskyouanyquestion,'hesaid,'Icanonlyexpressmyselfasbeingincompleteagreementwithhislordshiponthepolicyofallowingyouridentitytoremainhidden.'Theyoungmanbowed.'Now,' said the counsel, 'let me ask you this. How long have you been inassociationwiththeFourJustMen?''Sixmonths,'saidtheother.'Sothatreallyyouarenotinapositiontogiveevidenceregardingthemeritsofthiscase—whichisfiveyearsold,remember.''SavefromtheevidenceoftheCommission.''Letmeaskyouthis—butImusttellyouthatyouneednotanswerunlessyouwish—are you satisfied that the Four Just Men were responsible for thattragedy?''I donot doubt it,' said theyoungman instantly. 'Would anythingmakeyoudoubtit?''Yes,'saidthewitnesssmiling,'ifManfreddeniedit,Ishouldnotonlydoubtit,butbefirmlyassuredofhisinnocence.''Yousayyouapprovebothoftheirmethodsandtheirobjects?''Yes.''Let us suppose you were the head of a great business firm controlling athousandworkmen,withrulesandregulationsfortheirguidanceandascaleoffines and punishments for the preservation of discipline. And suppose youfoundoneofthoseworkmenhadsethimselfupasanarbiterofconduct,andhadsuperimposeduponyourrulesacodeofhisown.''Well?''Well,whatwouldbeyourattitudetowardthatman?''IftherulesheinitiatedwerewiseandneedfulIwouldincorporatetheminmycode.''Letmeputanothercase.Supposeyougovernedaterritory,administeringthelaws—''Iknowwhatyouaregoingtosay,'interruptedthewitness,'andmyansweristhat the lawsof a countryareas somanyclosely-setpalingserected for the

benefitof thecommunity.Yet tryasyouwill, the intersticesexist,andsomemen will go and come at their pleasure, squeezing through this fissure, orwalkingboldlythroughthatgap.''Andyouwouldwelcomeanunofficialformofjusticethatactedasakindofmoralstop-gap?''Iwouldwelcomecleanjustice.''Ifitwereputtoyouasanabstractproposition,wouldyouacceptit?'Theyoungmanpausedbeforehereplied.'It isdifficult toaccommodateone'smind to theabstract,with such tangibleevidenceoftheefficacyoftheFourJustMen'ssystembeforeone'seyes,'hesaid.'Perhapsitis,'saidthecounsel,andsignifiedthathehadfinished.The witness hesitated before leaving the box, looking at the prisoner, butManfred shookhishead smilingly, and the straight slim figureof theyoungmanpassedoutofcourtbythewayhehadcome.Theunrestrainedbuzzofconversationthatfollowedhisdeparturewasallowedtogouncheckedasjudgeandcounselconsultedearnestlyacrossthebench.Garrett,downamongst the journalists,put intowords thevague thought thathadbeenpresentineverymindincourt.'Doyounotice,Jimmy,'hesaidtoJamesSinclairoftheReview,'howblessedunreal this trial is? Don't you miss the very essence of a murder trial, themournfulnessofitandthehorrorofit?Here'safellerbeenkilledandnotoncehastheprosecutiontalkedabout"thispoormanstruckdownin theprimeoflife"orsaidanythingthatmadeyoulookattheprisonertoseehowhetakesit.It'saphilosophicaldiscussionwithahangingattheendofit.''Sure,'saidJimmy.'Because,'saidGarrett,'iftheyfindhimguilty,he'sgottodie.There'snodoubtabout that; if they don't hang him, crack! goes the British Constitution, theMagnaCharta,theDietofWorms,andafewotherthingsthatBillSeddonwasgassingabout.'His irreverent reference was to the prosecutor's opening speech. Now SirWilliamSeddonwas on his feet again, beginning his closing address to thejury.Heappliedhimselftotheevidencethathadbeengiven,totheprisoner'srefusal tocall thatevidence intoquestion,andconventionally tracedstepbystep the points that told against the man in the dock. He touched on theappearanceofthemaskedfigureinthewitness-box.Forwhatitwasworthitdeserved their consideration, but it did not affect the issue before the court.The jurywere there to formulate a verdict in accordancewith the law as it

existed,notasifitdidnotexistatall,toapplythelaw,nottocreateit—thatwas theirduty.Theprisonerwouldbeofferedanopportunity tospeak inhisowndefence.Counsel for theCrownhadwaivedhis right tomake the finaladdress.Theywould,ifhespoke,listenattentivelytotheprisoner,givinghimthebenefitofanydoubtthatmightbepresentintheirminds.Buthecouldnotsee,hecouldnotconceivablyimagine,howthejurycouldreturnanybutoneverdict.It seemed for a while that Manfred did not intend availing himself of theopportunity, for he made no sign, then he rose to his feet, and, resting hishandsontheinkstandledgebeforehim:'Mylord,'hesaid,andturnedapologeticallytothejury,'andgentlemen.'Thecourtwassostillthathecouldhearthescratchingsofthereporters'pens,andunexpectednoisescamefromthestreetoutside.'Idoubteitherthewisdomorthevalueofspeaking,'hesaid,'notthatIsuggestthat you have settled in your minds the question of my guilt without veryexcellentandconvincingreasons.'I am under an obligation to Counsel for the Treasury,' he bowed to thewatchfulprosecutor,'becausehesparedmethosebanalitiesofspeechwhichIfeared would mar this trial. He did not attempt to whitewash the man wekilled,ortoexoneratehimfromhisgrossandsordidcrimes.Rather,hemadeplaintheexactpositionofthelawinrelationtomyself,andwithallhesaidIam in complete agreement. The inequalities of the law are notorious, and Irecognizetheimpossibility,associetyisconstituted,ofamendingthelawsothatcrimessuchaswehavedealtwithshallbepunishedastheydeserve.Idonot rail against the fate that sentme here.When I undertookmymission, Iundertookitwithmyeyesopen,forI,too,'hesmiledattheupturnedfacesatthecounsels'bench,'Itooamlearnedinthelaw—andotherthings.''There are thosewho imagine that I am consumedwith a burning desire toalter the laws of this country; that is not so. Set canons, inflexible in theirconstruction, cannot be adapted according to the merits of a case, andparticularlyisthissowhentheveryquestionof"merit"isacontentiouspoint.ThelawsofEnglandaregoodlaws,wiseandjustandequitable.Whatothercommendationisnecessarythanthisonefact,thatIrecognizethatmylifeisforfeitbythoselaws,andassenttothejusticewhichcondemnsme'?'None the less,when Iamfreeagain,'hewentoneasily, 'I shallcontinue tomerit your judgment because there is that within me, which shows clearlywhichwaymypathlies,andhowbestImayservehumanity.Ifyousaythattochooseavictimhereandavictimthereforcondemnation, touchingonlytheveriestfringeoftheworldofrascaldom,Iammyselfunjust—sinceIleavethemanyandpunish the few—Ianswer that for everymanwe slew, a hundred

turnedattheterrorofournameandwalkedstraightly;thattheexampleofonedeath saved thousands. And if you should seriously ask: Have you helpedreformmankind,Ianswerasseriously—Yes.'Hetalkedallthistimetothejudge.'Itwouldbemadnesstoexpectacivilizedcountrytoreverttothebarbarismofanage inwhichdeathwas thepenalty for everyother crime, and Iwill notinsultyourintelligencebydenyingthatsuchareturntothebaddayswaseversuggested by me. But there has come into existence a spurious form ofhumanitarianism, the exponents of which have, it would appear, lost theirsense of proportion, and have promoted the Fear of Pain to a religion;whohaveforgottenthattheAgeofReasonisnotyet,andthatmenwhoareanimalin all but human semblance share the animal's obedience to correctivediscipline,sharetoohisblindfearofdeath—andareamenabletomethodsthatthreatenhiscomfortorhislife.'Heflungouthishandtowardthejudge.'You,my lord,'hecried, 'canyouorder the floggingofabrutewhohashalfkilled one of his fellows, without incurring the bleating wrath of men andwomen,whoputeverythingbeforephysicalpain—honour,patriotism,justice?Can you sentence a man to death for a cruel murder without a thousandshriekingproductsofourtimerushinghitherandthitherlikeants,strivingtosecure his release? Without a chorus of pity— that was unexcited by themangledvictimofhisferocity?"Killing,deliberate,wolfishkillingbyman",say they in effect, "is the act ofGod; but the legal punishment of death, ismurder."ThatiswhyIexpectnosympathyforthemethodstheFourJustMenadopted.Werepresentedalaw—weexecutedexpeditiously.Wemurderedifyoulike.InthespiritandtheletterofthelawsofEngland,wedidmurder.Iacknowledgethejusticeofmycondemnation.Idonotdesiretoextenuatethecircumstancesofmycrime.YetnonethelesstheactIcannotjustifytoyoursatisfactionIjustifytomyown.'Hesatdown.Abarrister,leaningoverthepublicprosecutor'sback,asked:'Whatdoyouthinkofthat?'SirWilliamshookhishead.'Bewildering,'hesaidindespair.Thejudge'ssummingupwasoneofthebriefestonrecord.Thejuryhadtosatisfytheirmindsthattheprisonercommittedthecrimewithwhichhewascharged,andmustnottroublethemselveswithanyotheraspectof the case but that part plainly before them. Was the man in the dockresponsibleforthekillingofLipski?

Withoutleavingthebox,thejuryreturneditsverdict.'Guilty!'Thoseusedtosuchscenesnoticedthatthejudgeinpassingsentenceofdeathomitted the striking and sombre words that usually accompany the lastsentenceofthelaw,andthathespoke,too,withoutemotion.'Eitherhe'sgoingtogetareprieveorelsethejudgeiscertainhe'llescape,'saidGarrett,'andthelastexplanationseemsridiculous.''Bytheway,'saidhiscompanionastheypassedslowlywiththecrowdintotheroadway,'whowasthatswellthatcamelateandsatonthebench?''That was his Highness the Prince of the Escorial,' said Charles, 'he's inLondonjustnowonhishoneymoon.''Iknowallaboutthat,"saidJimmy,'butIheardhimspeakingtothesheriffjustbeforewecameout,anditstruckmethatI'dheardhisvoicebefore.''It seemed so to me,' said the discreet Charles—so discreet indeed that henever even suggested to his editor that the mysterious mask who gaveevidence on behalf of George Manfred was none other than his RoyalHighness.

XV. —CHELMSFORD

THEYtookManfredbacktoWandsworthGaolonthenightofthetrial.Thegovernor, standing in the gloomy courtyard as the van drove in with itsclankingescort,receivedhimgravely.'Isthereanythingyouwant?'heaskedwhenhevisitedthecellthatnight.'A cigar,' said Manfred, and the governor handed him the case. Manfredselectedwithcare,theprison-masterwatchinghimwonderingly.'You'reanextraordinaryman,'hesaid.'AndIneedtobe,'wasthereply,'forIhavebeforemeanordealwhichisonlyrelievedofitsgruesomenessbyitsuniqueness.''Therewillbeapetitionforreprieve,ofcourse,'saidthegovernor.'Oh, I've killed that,' laughed Manfred, 'killed it with icy blast of satire—althoughItrustIhaven'tdiscouragedthe"RationalFaithers"forwhomIhavemadesuchhandsomeposthumousprovision.''You are an extraordinary man,' mused the governor again. 'By the way,Manfred,whatpartdoestheladyplayinyourescape?''The lady?'Manfredwasgenuinely astonished. 'Yes, thewomanwhohaunts

the outside of this prison; a lady in black, and my chief warder tells mesingularlybeautiful.''Ah, thewoman,' saidManfred, and his face clouded. 'I had hoped she hadgone.'Hesatthinking.'Ifsheisafriendofyours,aninterviewwouldnotbedifficulttoobtain,'saidthegovernor.'No, no, no,' saidManfred hastily, 'theremust be no interview—at any ratehere.'The governor thought that the interview 'here' was very unlikely, for theGovernmenthadplansforthedisposaloftheirprisoner,whichhedidnotfeelhisdutytotheStateallowedhimtocommunicate.Heneednot,hadheknown,havemadeamysteryofthescheme.Manfredkickedofftheclumsyshoestheprisonauthoritieshadprovidedhimwith—hehadchangedintoconvictdressonhisreturntothegaol—andlaidhimselfdowndressedashewas,pullingablanketoverhim.Oneofthewatchingwarderssuggestedcurtlythatheshouldundress.'Itishardlyworthwhile,'hesaid,'forsobriefatime.'Theythoughthewasreferringagaintotheescape,andmarvelledalittleathismadness. Three hours later when the governor came to the cell, they weredumbfoundedathisknowledge.'Sorrytodisturbyou,'said theMajor, 'butyou're tobetransferredtoanotherprison—why,youaren'tundressed!''No,' said Manfred, lazily kicking off the cover, 'but I thought the transferwouldbeearlier.''Howdidyouknow?''About the transfer—oh, a little bird told me,' said the prisoner, stretchinghimself.'Whereisittobe—Pentonville?'Thegovernorlookedathimalittlestrangely.'No,'hesaid.'Reading?''No,'saidthegovernorshortly.Manfredfrowned.'Whereveritis,I'mready,'hesaid.Henoddedtotheattendantwarderasheleftandtookaninformalbutcheeryfarewell of the governor on the deserted railway station where a solitary

enginewithbrakevanattachedstoodwaiting.'Aspecial,Iperceive,'hesaid.'Goodbye,Manfred,'saidthegovernorandofferedhishand.Manfreddidnottakeit—andtheMajorflushedinthedark.'Icannottakeyourhand,'saidManfred,'fortworeasons.Thefirstisthatyourexcellentchiefwarderhashandcuffedme,behind—''Nevermindabouttheotherreason,'saidthegovernorwithalittlelaugh,andthenashesqueezed theprisoner'sarmheadded, 'Idon'twish theothermanany harm, but if by chance that wonderful escape of yours materializes, IknowarespectedofficerinthePrisonServicewhowillnotbeheartbroken.'Manfrednodded,andashesteppedintothetrainhesaid:'Thatlady—ifyouseeher,tellherIamgone.''Iwill—butI'mafraidImaynottellherwhere.''Thatisatyourdiscretion,'saidManfredasthetrainmovedoff.Thewardersdrewdowntheblinds,andManfredcomposedhimselftosleep.Hewokewith thechiefwarder'shandonhisarmandsteppedouton to theplatformas thedaywasbreaking.Hisquickeye searched theadvertisementboardsonthestation.Hewouldhavedonethisordinarily,becausetheywouldtellhimwherehewas,supposingforsomereasontheauthoritieshadwishedtokeephisdestinationa secret fromhim.Buthehadaparticular interest inadvertisingjustthen.Thestationwassmotheredwiththebillsofatravellingcheapjack—anunusualclassofadvertisementfortheausterenoticeboardsofarailwaystation.Hugeflamingpostersthatsaid'EverythingisRight',andinsmallertypeunderneath'Upto-date'.Littlebillsthatsaid,'WritetoyourcousininLondon...andtellherthatGipsyJack'sbargain,'etc.'Gobythebook!'saidanother.Marchingdownthestairsheobservedoppositethestationyetfurtherevidence of this extravagant cheap jack's caprice, for there were bigilluminatedsignsinevidence,alltothesameeffect.Intheshuttereddarknessofthecab,Manfredsmiledbroadly.Therewasreallynolimittotheingenuityof Leon Gonsalez. Next morning when the governor of Chelmsford Gaolvisitedhim,Manfredexpressedhisintentionofwritingalettertohiscousin—inLondon.'Didyouseehim?'askedPoiccart.'Just a glimpse,' saidLeon.Hewalkedover to thewindowof the roomandlookedout.Rightinfrontofhimrosethegrimfacadeofthegaol.Hewalkedback to the table and poured himself out a cup of tea. It was not yet sixo'clock,buthehadbeenupthegreaterpartofthenight.'The Home Secretary,' he said between gasps as he drank the scalding hot

liquid, 'is indiscreet in his correspondence and is generally a most carelessman.'ItwasaproposofManfred'scoming.'Ihavemadetwovisitstotherighthonourablegentleman'shouseinthispastfortnight, and I am bursting with startling intelligence. Do you know thatWillington,thePresidentoftheBoardofTrade,hashadan"affair",andthatajuniorLordoftheAdmiraltydrinkslikeasponge,andtheChancellorhatestheWarSecretary,whowilltalkallthetime,and—''Keepsadiary?'askedPoiccart,andtheothernodded.'Adiaryfullofthousandsofpounds'worthofgossip,lockedwithasixpenny-ha'penny lock. His house is fitted with theMagno-Sellie system of burglaralarms,andhekeepsthreeservants.''Youarealmostencyclopedic,'saidPoiccart.'MydearPoiccart,'saidLeonresentfully,'youhavegotatrickofacceptingthemostwonderfulinformationfrommewithoutpayingmethedueofadoptingthe following flattering attitudes: primary, incredulous surprise; secondary,ecstaticwonder;tertiary,admirationblendedwithawe.'Poiccartlaughedoutright:anunusualcircumstance.'Ihaveceased towonderatyourcleverness, illustrious,'hesaid,speaking inSpanish,thelanguagethesetwomeninvariablyusedwhenalone.'Allthesethingsarebeyondme,'Poiccartwenton,'yetnomancansayforallmyslowbrainthatIamasluggardinaction.'Leonsmiled.Thework of the last fewweeks had fallen heavily on themboth. Itwas nolight task, the preparation of ThreeMonths in Morocco. The first word ofeveryseventhparagraphformedthemessagethathehadtoconveytoManfred—anditwasalongmessage.Therewasthetaskofprintingit,arrangingtheimmediate publication, the placing of the book in the list, and generallythrustingitunderthenosesofanunappreciativepublic.Assailorsstorelife-belts forpossiblecontingencies, so, ineverycountryhad theFour JustMenstored the equipment of rescue against their need. Poiccart, paying manyflyingvisitstotheMidlands,broughtbackwithhimfromtimetotimestrangepartsofmachinery.Thelighterhecarriedwithhisluggage, theheavierpartshesmuggledintoChelmsfordinastrongly-builtmotor-car.Thedetachedhousefacing theprisonwasfortunatelyforsale,and theagentwhoconducted the rapidnegotiations that resulted in its transferhad let falltheinformationthattheclientshopedtoestablishagarageontheColchesterRoadthatwouldsecureasensibleproportionoftheEssexmotortraffic.Thearrival of two rough-painted chassis supported this viewof thenewowners'business. They were enterprising people, these new arrivals, and it was an

opensecret 'ontheroad', thatGipsyJack,whosecaravanwasunderdistress,and in the hands of the bailiff, had found financial support at their hands.Albeit Jack protested vigorously at the ridiculous suggestion that he shouldopeninChelmsfordatanunpropitiousseason,andsniffedcontemptuouslyattheextravagantbillingofthetown.Nordidheapproveofthewordingoftheposters,whichstruckhimasbeingmilder than thehilariouscharacterofhisbusiness-entertainmentcalledfor.'ThemHeckfordsaregoingtomakeafailure,'saidMr.PeterSweeneyinthebosom of his family. He occupied 'Faith Home', an ornate villa on theColchesterRoad.Beforehismomentousconceptionofthe'RationalFaithers',ithadbornethemoreimposingtitleof'PalaceLodge',thisbytheway.'They'vegotnobusinessability,and they'reabitgoneon thesherbet.'Forahigh-priestofanewcult,Peter'slanguagewasneitherpurenorrefined. 'Andtheyhaven'tgotthecommonpolitenessofpigs,'headdedambiguously.'Itookthepetitiontheretoday,'Peterwentonindignantly,'andthechapthatcometothedoor!Oh,whatasight!Lookedasifhe'dbeenupallnight,eyesred,facewhite,andallofashake.''"Goodmornin',Mr.Heckford,"saysI,"I'vecomeaboutthepetition."'"Whatpetition?"sayshe.'"Thepetition for thepoorcreaturenow lyin' inChelmsford," says I, "undersentenceofdeath—whichislegalmurder,"Isays.'"Gotothedevil"hesays;theywerehisexactwords,"Gotothedevil."IwasthatupsetthatIwalkedstraightawayfromthedoor—hedidn'tevenaskmein—an'justasIgottothebottomofthefrontgarden,heshouts,"Whatdoyouwanthimreprievedfor—hasn'theleftyouapotofmoney?"'Mr.PeterSweeneywasverymuchagitatedasherepeatedthiscallouspieceofcynicism.'That idea,' said Peter solemnly and impressively, 'Must Not be Allowed toGrow.'Itwas to give the lie to thewicked suggestion that Peter arrangedhis dailydemonstration, from twelve to two. There had been such functions before,'Mass'meetingswithbrassbandsattheveryprisongates,buttheywerefeeblemothers'meetingscomparedtothesedemonstrationsonbehalfofManfred.Thememoryofthedaily'service'istoofreshinthemindsofthepublic,andparticularly theChelmsford public, to need any description here.Crowds ofthreethousandpeopleweretherule,andPeter'sbandblaredincessantly,whilstPeter himself grew hoarse from the effect of railing his denunciation of thebarbarousmethodsofamedievalsystem.HeckfordBrothers,thenewmotor-carfirm,protestedagainsttheinjurythese

daily paraders were inflicting on their business. That same dissipated man,lookingmoredissipatedthanever,whohadbeensorudetohim,calleduponPeter and threatened him with injunctions. This merely had the effect ofstiffeningPeterSweeney'sback,andnextdaythemeetinglastedthreehours.In theprison, thepandemonium thatwentonoutsidepenetrated even to theseclusionofManfred'scell,andhewassatisfied.Thelocalpolicewereloathtointerfereandreopenthedesperatequarrel thathadcentredaroundsuchdemonstrationsbefore.So Peter triumphed, and the crowd of idlers that flocked to the middaygatheringgrewinproportionastheinterestinthecondemnedman'sfatearose.And the augmented band blared and the big drum boomed the louder andRationalFaithgainedmanynewconverts.Asightseer,attractedbycuriosity,wasstandingonthefringeofthecrowdoneday.Hecouldnotseethebandfromwherehestoodbuthemadearemarkableobservation;itwasnothinglessthanagrossreflectionuponavaluedmemberoftheorchestra.'That chap,' said this unknown critic, 'is beating out of time—or else there'stwodrumsgoing.'Themantowhomheaddressedhisremarkslistenedattentively,andagreed.Thecrowdhadswayedbackto therailingsbefore thepremisesof themotormanufacturers,andasitdispersed—Peter'sparty 'processed'magnificentlytothe townbefore breaking up—oneof the new tenants came to the door andstood,watchingthemeltingcrowd.Heoverheardthisremarkconcerningthebigdrummer'stime,anditvexedhim.Whenhecamebacktothesitting-room,whereapallidPoiccartlaysupinelyonacouch,hesaid:'Wemustbecareful,'andrepeatedtheconversation.Untilsixo'clockthesemenrested—asmenmustrestwhohavebeenworkingunderamonstrouspressureofair—thentheywenttoclearawaytheresultsoftheirworking.Atmidnighttheyceased,andwashedawaythestainsoftheirlabours.'Luckily,' saidPoiccart, 'wehavemany rooms to fill yet; thedrawing- roomcanhold littlemore, thedining-roomweneed, themorning-room ispacked.Wemuststartupstairstomorrow.'Astheworkproceeded,theneedforcautionbecamemoreandmoreapparent;butnoaccidentmarredtheirprogress,andthreedaysbeforethedatefixedforthe execution, the twomen, coming to their barely furnished living- room,looked at each other across the uncovered table that separated them, andsighedthankfully,fortheworkwasalmostfinished.

'Thosefellows,'saidMr.PeterSweeney,'arenotsoBadasIthoughttheywas.Oneof'emcometometodayandApologized.Hewaslookin'bettertoo,andofferedtosignthepetition.'Peteralwaysgaveyoutheimpressioninspeakingthathewasusingwordsthatbeganwithcapitalletters.'Pa,'saidhisson,whohadamindthatdealtinmaterialissues, 'whatareyougoingtodowithManfred'smoney?'Hisparentlookedathimsternly.'IshallDevoteittotheCause,'hesaidshortly.'That'syou,ain'tit?'assertedtheinnocentchild.Peterdisdainedtoanswer.'Theseyoungmen,'hewenton,'mightdoworsethantheyhavedone.Theyaremorebusiness-like than I thought, darker, the town electrician, tellsme thattheyhadgotapowercurrentintheirworks,theyhavegotalittlegas-enginetoo, and from the way one of them was handling a big car today on theLondonroad,itstrikesmetheyknowsomethingaboutthebusinessofmotor-carrunning.'Gonsalez, coming back from a trial trip on his noisy car, had to report adisquietingcircumstance.'She'shere,'hesaid,ashewaswashingthegrimefromhishands.Poiccart lookedupfromhiswork—hewasheatingsomethinginaIcrucibleoveranelectricstove.'TheWomanofGratz?'heasked.Leonnodded.'Thatisnatural,'Poiccartsaid,andwentonwithhisexperiment.'Shesawme,'saidLeoncalmly.'Oh!'saidtheother,unconcerned.'Manfredsaid—''That shewould betray nomore—Ibelieve that, andGeorge asked us to begoodtoher,thatisacommand.'(TherewasagreatdealmoreinManfred'sletterto'hiscousininLondon'thanmetthegovernor'seye.)'Sheisanunhappywoman,'saidGonsalezgravely;'itwaspitiabletoseeheratWandsworth,whereshestooddayafterdaywiththosetragiceyesofhersontheuglygateoftheprison;here,withtheresultofherworkinsight,shemustbesufferingthetorturesofthedamned.''Thentellher,'saidPoiccart.'That—'

'ThatGeorgewillescape.''Ithoughtofthat.IthinkGeorgewouldwishit.''TheRedHundredhasrepudiatedher,'Leonwenton.'Wewereadvisedofthatyesterday; I amnot sure that she isnotunder sentence.You rememberHerrSchmidt,heoftheroundface?Itwashewhodenouncedher.'Poiccartnoddedandlookedupthoughtfully.'Schmidt—Schmidt,' hepuzzled. 'Ohyes—there is something against him, acold-bloodedmurder,wasitnot?''Yes,'saidLeonveryquietly,andtheydidnotspeakagainofHerrSchmidtofPrague. Poiccart was dipping thin glass rods into the seething, bubblingcontentsofthecrucible,andLeonwatchedidly.'Didshespeak?'Poiccartaskedafteralongintervalofsilence.'Yes.'Anothersilence,andthenLeonresumed:'Shewasnotsureofme—butImadeherthesignoftheRedHundred.Icouldnotspeaktoher in theopenstreet.Falmouth'speoplewereinallprobabilitywatchingherdayandnight.Youknowtheoldglovetrickforgivingthehourofassignation.Drawingonthegloveslowlyandstoppingtoadmirethefitofone, two, or three fingers... so I signalled to her tomeetme in three hours'time.''Where?''AtWivenhoe—thatwasfairlysimpletoo...imaginemeleaningoverthesideofthecartodemandofthewillingbystandershowlongitwouldtakemetoreachWivenhoe—thelastwordloudly—wouldittakemethreehours?Whilsttheyvolunteeredtheircounsel,Isawhersignalofassent.'Poiccarthummedasheworked.'Well—areyougoing?'heasked.'Iam,'saidtheother,andlookedathiswatch.After midnight, Poiccart, dozing in his chair, heard the splutter and theGatling-gunexplosionsofthecarasitturnedintotheextemporizedgarage.'Well?'heaskedasLeonentered.'She'sgone,'saidGonsalezwithasighofrelief.'Itwasadifficultbusiness,andIhadtolietoher—wecannotaffordtheriskofbetrayal.LiketheremainderoftheRedHundred,sheclings to the ideathatwehavethousandsofpeople inour organization; she accepted my story of storming the prison with sheerbruteforce.Shewantedtostay,butItoldherthatshewouldspoileverything—sheleavesforthecontinenttomorrow.'

'Shehasnomoney,ofcourse,'saidPoiccartwithayawn.'None—theRedHundredhasstoppedsupplies—butIgaveher—''Naturally,'saidPoiccart.'Itwasdifficult topersuadeher to take it;shewas likeamadthingbetweenherfearofGeorge,herjoyatthenewsIgaveher—andremorse.'Ithink,'hewentonseriously,'thatshehadanaffectionforGeorge.'Poiccartlookedathim.'Yousurpriseme,'hesaidironically,andwenttobed.Day found them working. There was machinery to be dismantled, a heavyopendoortobefixed,newtirestobefittedtothebigcar.Anhourbeforethemiddaydemonstrationcameaknockattheouterdoor.Leonanswereditandfoundapolitechauffeur.Intheroadwaystoodacarwithasolitaryoccupant.The chauffeurwanted petrol; he had run himself dry.Hismaster descendedfrom the car and came forward to conduct the simple negotiation. Hedismissedthemechanicwithaword.'There are one or two questions I would like to ask aboutmy car,' ne saiddistinctly.'Comeinside,sir,'saidLeon,andusheredthemanintothesitting-room.Heclosedthedoorandturnedonthefur-cladvisitor.'Whydidyoucome?'heaskedquickly;'itisterriblydangerous—foryou.''Iknow,'saidtheothereasily,'butIthoughttheremightbesomethingIcoulddo—whatistheplan?'InafewwordsLeontoldhim,andtheyoungmanshivered.'AgruesomeexperienceforGeorge,'hesaid.'It'stheonlyway,'repliedLeon,'andGeorgehasnerveslikeice.''Andafter—you'releavingthattochance?''Youmeanwhereshallwemakefor—thesea,ofcourse.ThereisagoodroadbetweenhereandClacton,andtheboatliessnugbetweenthereandWalton.''Isee,'saidtheyoungman,andhemadeasuggestion.'Excellent—butyou?'saidLeon.'Ishallbeallright?'saidthecheerfulvisitor.'Bytheway,haveyouatelegraphmapofthispartoftheworld?'Leonunlockedadrawerandtookoutafoldedpaper.'Ifyouwouldarrangethat,'hesaid,'Ishouldbegrateful.'

ThemanwhocalledhimselfCourtlandermarkedtheplanwithapencil.'Ihavemenwhomaybetrustedtotheveryend,'hesaid. 'Thewiresshallbecutateighto'clock,andChelmsfordshallbeisolatedfromtheworld.'Then,withatinofpetrolinhishand,hewalkedbacktohiscar.

XVI. —THEEXECUTION

IFyoupassthroughthelittledoorthatleadstotheporter'slodge(thedoorwillbe locked andbolted behind you) your conductorwill pass you throughyetanotherdoorintoayardthatisguardedbytheponderousdoorsoftheprisonattheoneendandbyabigsteelgateattheother.Throughthisgateyoureachanothercourtyard,andbearingtotheright,youcometoaflightofstonestepsthatbringyoutothegovernor'stinyoffice.Ifyougostraightalongthenarrowpassagefromwhichtheofficeopens,descendaflightofstairsattheotherend,throughawell-guardeddoorway,youcomesuddenlyintothegreathalloftheprison.Heregalleriesrunalongbothsidesofthehall,andsteelgangwaysandbridgesspan thewidthat intervals.Here, too,polishedstairwayscriss-cross,andthewhitefaceofthetwolongwallsofthehallarepittedwithlittleblackdoors.Onthegroundfloor, thefirstcellon therightasyouenter thehall fromthegovernor's office is larger andmore commodious than its fellows. There is,too,asuspicionofcomfortinthestripofmattingthatcoversthefloor,inthenakedgaslightwhichflaresinitswirecagebydayandnight,inthetableandchair, and the plain comfortable bed. This is the condemned cell. A dozenpacesfromitsthresholdisadoorthatleadstoanotherpartoftheyard,andadozen more paces along the flagged pathway brings you to a littleunpretentious one-storeyed house without windows, and a doorwaysufficientlywidetoallowtwomentopassabreast.There isabeamwherearopemaybemadefast,andatrapdoor,andabrick-linedpit,colouredwithasalmon-pinkdistemper.Fromhiscell,Manfredwasaninterestedlistener,asdaybydaytheuproarofthedemonstrationbeforethegatesincreased.Hefound in thedoctorwhovisitedhimdailyagentlemanofsomewit. Inasense,hereplacedthegovernorofWandsworthasanintellectualcompanion,for the master of Chelmsford was a reserved man, impregnated with thetraditionsof thesystem.Tothedoctor,Manfredconfidedhisprivateopinionofthe'RationalFaithers'.'Butwhyon earth haveyou left them somuchmoney?' asked the surprisedmedico.

'BecauseIdislikecranksandnarrow, foolishpeoplemost intensely,'was thecrypticreply.'ThisSweeney—'hewenton.'HowdidyouhearofSweeney?'askedthedoctor.'Oh, one hears,' said Manfred carelessly. 'Sweeney had an internationalreputation;besides,'headded,notmovingamuscleofhisface,'Iknowabouteverybody.''Me,forinstance?'challengedthemanofmedicine.'You,'repeatedManfredwisely.'FromthedayyouleftCliftontothedayyoumarriedtheyoungestMissArbuckleofChertsey.''GoodLord!'gaspedthedoctor.'It isn'tsurprising,isit,'explainedManfred, 'thatforquitealongtimeIhavetakenaninterestinthevariousstaffsoftheprisonswithinTeachofLondon?''Isupposeitisn't,'saidtheother.Nonethelesshewasimpressed.Manfred's life inChelmsforddiffered in a very little degree fromhis life inWandsworth.The routine of prison life remained the same: the daily exercises, thepunctiliousvisitsofgovernor,doctorandchaplain.OnonepointManfredwasfirm.Hewouldreceivenospiritualministrations,he would attend no service. He made his position clear to the scandalizedchaplain.'YoudonotknowtowhatsectIamattached,'hesaid,'becauseIhaverefusedto give any information upon that point. I feel sure you have no desire toproselytizeorconvertmefrommyestablishedbeliefs.''Whatareyourbeliefs?'askedthechaplain.'That,' saidManfred, 'ismyownmostsecretknowledge,andwhich Idonotintendsharingwithanyman.''Butyoucannotdielikeaheathen,'saidtheclergymaninhorror.'Point of view is everything,' was the calm rejoinder, 'and I am perfectlysatisfiedwiththewholesomenessofmyown;inadditiontowhich,'headded,'Iamnotgoingtodiejustyet,andbeingawareofthis,IshrinkfromacceptingfromgoodmenthesympathyandthoughtwhichIdonotdeserve.'Tothedoctorhewasaconstantsourceofwonder,lettingfallsurprisingitemsofnewsmysteriouslyacquired.'Where he gets his information from, puzzles me, sir,' he confessed to thegovernor.'Themenwhoareguardinghim—'

'Areabovesuspicion,'saidthegovernorpromptly.'Hegetsnonewspapers?''No,onlythebooksherequires.HeexpressedadesiretheotherdayforThreeMonthsinMorocco,saidhehadhalffinisheditwhenhewasatWandsworth,andwantedtoreaditagainto"makesure"—soIgotit.'Threedaysbeforethedatefixedfortheexecution,thegovernorhadinformedManfred that,despite thepresentationofapetition, theHomeSecretarysawnoreasonforadvisingtheremissionofthesentence.'Ineverexpectedareprieve,'herepliedwithoutemotion.Hespentmuchofhistimechattingwiththetwowarders.Strictsenseofdutyforcedthemtoreplyinmonosyllables,butheinterestedthemkeenlywithhistalkofthestrangeplacesoftheworld.Asfarastheycould,theyhelpedhimpassthetime,andheappreciatedtheirrestrictedtightness.'YouarenamedPerkins,'hesaidoneday.'Yes,'saidthewarder.'And you're Franklin,' he said to the other, and the man replied in theaffirmative.Manfrednodded.'When I am at liberty,' he said, 'Iwillmake you some recompense for yourexemplarypatience.'At exercise on theMonday—Tuesday was the fatal day fixed by the HighSheriff—hesawacivilianwalkingintheyardandrecognizedhim,andonhisreturntohiscellherequestedtoseethegovernor.'I would like to meet Mr. Jessen,' he said when the officer came, and thegovernordemurred.'Will you be good enough to refer my request to the Home Secretary bytelegraph?'askedManfred,andthegovernorpromisedthathewould.Tohissurprise,animmediatereplygavethenecessarypermission.Jessensteppedintothecellandnoddedpleasantlytothemanwhosatontheedgeofthecouch.'Iwantedtospeaktoyou,Jessen,'Manfredsaid,andmotionedhimtoaseat.'IwantedtoputthebusinessofStarqueright,onceandforall.'Jessensmiled.'That was all right—it was an order signed by the Czar and addressedpersonallytome—Icoulddonolessthanhanghim,'hesaid.'Yetyoumaythink,'Manfredwenton,'thatwetookyouforthisworkbecause—''I knowwhy Iwas taken,' said the quiet Jessen. 'Starque andFrancoiswere

withinthelaw,condemnedbythelaw,andyoustrikeonlyatthosethelawhasmissed.'ThenManfredinquiredaftertheGuild,andJessenbrightened.'TheGuildisflourishing,'hesaidcheerfully.'Iamnowconvertingtheluggagethieves—youknow,themenwhohauntrailwaystations.''Into—?'askedtheother.'Therealthing—theporterstheysometimesimpersonate,'saidtheenthusiast,andaddeddolefully,'It'sterriblyuphillbusinessthough,gettingcharactersforthemenwhowant togo straight andhaveonly a ticket of leave to identifythem.'Asherosetogo,Manfredshookhands.'Don'tloseheart,'hesaid.'Ishallseeyouagain,'saidJessen,andManfredsmiled.Again, ifyougrowwearyof that repetition 'Manfredsmiled', remember thatthetwowordsbestdescribehisattitudeinthosedreadfuldaysinChelmsford.Therewasno traceof flippancy inhis treatmentof theoppressing situation.Hisdemeanourontheoccasionswhenhemetthechaplainwasonetowhichthemostsensitivecouldtakenoexception,butthefirmnesswasinsuperable.'It is impossible todoanythingwithhim,' said thedespairingminister. 'Iamthe veriest child in his hands. He makes me feel like a lay preacherinterviewingSocrates.'Therewasnoprecedentfortheremarkableconditionofaffairs,andfinally,atManfred'srequest,itwasdecidedtoomittheceremonyofthereligiousservicealtogether.In the afternoon, taking his exercise, he lifted his eyes skyward, and thewarders, following his gaze, saw in the air a great yellow kite, bearing abannerthatadvertisedsomebrandorotherofmotortires.'Yellow kite, all right,' he improvised, and hummed a tune as he marchedroundthestonecircle.Thatnight,afterhehadretiredtorest,theytookawayhisprisonclothesandreturned the suit in which he had been arrested. He thought he heard themeasuredtrampingoffeetashedozed,andwonderediftheGovernmenthadincreased the guard of the prison. Under his window the step of the sentrysoundedbriskerandheavier.'Soldiers,'heguessed,andfellasleep.He was accurate in his surmise. At the eleventh hour had arisen a fear ofrescue,andhalfabattalionofguardshadarrivedbytraininthenightandheldtheprison.

The chaplain made his last effort, and received an unexpected rebuff,unexpectedbecauseofthestartlingwarmthwithwhichitwasdelivered.'Irefusetoseeyou,'stormedManfred.Itwasthefirstexhibitionofimpatiencehehadshown.'Have Inot toldyou that Iwill not lendmyself to the reductionof a sacredservice to a farce? Can you not understand that Imust have a very specialreasonforbehavingasIdo,ordoyouthinkIamasullenboorrejectingyourkindnessoutofpureperversity?''I did not knowwhat to think,' said the chaplain sadly, andManfred's voicesoftenedashereplied:'Reserveyourjudgementforafewhours—thenyouwillknow.'The published accounts of that memorable morning are to the effect thatManfredatevery little,but the truth is thathepartookofaheartybreakfast,saying,'Ihavealongjourneybeforeme,andneedmystrength.'At fiveminutes toeightaknotof journalistsandwardersassembledoutsidethe cell door, a double line of warders formed across the yard, and theextendedlineofsoldiersthatcircledtheprisonbuildingstoodtoattention.AtaminutetoeightcameJessenwiththestrapsofofficeinhishand.Thenwiththeclockstrikingthehour,thegovernorbeckoningJessen,enteredthecell.Simultaneously and in a dozen different parts of the country, the telegraphwireswhichconnectChelmsfordwiththerestoftheworldwerecut.Itwasa tragicprocession, robbeda littleof itshorrorby theabsenceof thepriest, but sufficiently dreadful.Manfred,with strapped hands, followed thegovernor,awarderateacharm,andJessenwalkingbehind.Theyguidedhimto the littlehousewithoutwindowsandstoodhimona trapanddrewback,leavingtheresttoJessen.Then,asJessenputhishandtohispocket,Manfredspoke.'Stand away for amoment,' he said; 'before the rope is onmy neck I havesomething to say,' and Jessen stood back. 'It is,' said Manfred slowly,'farewell!'Ashespokeheraisedhisvoice,andJessenstoopedtopickupthecoilofropethatdraggedonthefloor.Thenwithoutwarning,beforetheropewasraised,oranymancouldtouchhim,thetrapfellwithacrashandManfredshotoutofsight.Out of sight indeed, for from the pit poured up a dense volume of blacksmoke, that sent themenat theedge reelingandcoughingbackwards to theopenair.'Whatisit?Whatisit?'afranticofficialstruggledthroughthepressatthedoor

andshoutedanorder.'Quick!thefirehose!'The clanging of a bell sent the men to their stations. 'He is in the pit,'somebody cried, but aman camewith a smoke helmet andwent down theside. He was a long time gone, and when he returned he told his storyincoherently.'Thebottomofthepit'sbeendugout—there'sapassagebelowandadoor—thesmoke—Istoppedthat,it'sasmokecartridge!'Thechiefwarderwhippedarevolverfromhisholster.'Thisway,'heshouted,andwentdownthedanglingropehandoverhand.Itwasdark,buthefelthisway;heslippeddownthesharpdeclivitywherethetunneldippedbeneaththeprisonwallandthemenbehindhimsprawledafterhim.Thenwithoutwarningheranintoanobstacleandwentdownbruisedandshaken.One of the last men down had brought a lamp, and the light of it cameflickeringalongtheunevenpassage.Thechiefwardershoutedforthemantohurry.By the light he saw thatwhat confronted himwas amassive doormade ofunpainteddealandclampedwithiron.Apaperattractedhisattention.Itwasfastenedtothedoor,andheliftedthelanterntoreadit:'Thetunnelbeyondthispointismined.'Thatwasallitsaid.'Get back to the prison,' ordered the warder sharply. Mine or no mine, hewouldhavegoneon,buthesawthatthedoorwaswellnighimpregnable.Hecamebacktothelightstainedwithclayandsweatingwithhisexertions.'Gone!' he reported curtly; 'if we can get the men out on the roads andsurroundthetown—''That has been done,' said the governor, 'but there's a crowd in front of theprison,andwe'velostthreeminutesgettingthrough.'Hehadagrimsenseofhumour,thisfiercesilentoldman,andheturnedonthetroubledchaplain.'Ishouldimaginethatyouknowwhyhedidn'twanttheservicenow?''Iknow,'saidtheministersimply,'andknowing,Iamgrateful.'Manfred felt himself caught in a net, deft hands loosened the straps at hiswristsandliftedhimtohisfeet.Theplacewasfilledwiththepungentfumesofsmoke.

'Thisway.'Poiccart,goingahead,flashedtheraysofhiselectriclampoverthefloor.Theytook the slope with one flying leap, and stumbled forward as they landed;reachingtheopendoor,theypausedwhilstLeoncrasheditclosedandslippedthesteelboltsintotheirplaces.Poiccart'slampshowedthesmoothlycutsidesofthetunnel,andattheotherendtheyhadtoclimbthedebrisofdismantledmachinery.'Notbad,'saidManfred,viewingtheworkcritically. 'The"RationalFaithers"wereuseful,'headded.Leonnodded.'Butfortheirbandyoucouldhaveheardthedrillsworkingintheprison,'hesaidbreathlessly.Upaladderattheendtheyraced,intotheearthstrewn'dining-room'throughthepassage,inchesthickwithtroddenclay.Leon held the thick coat for him and he slipped into it. Poiccart started themotor.'Right!'Theywereonthemovethumpingandjoltingthroughabacklanethatjoinedthemainroadfivehundredyardsbelowtheprison.Leon, looking back, saw the specks of scarlet struggling through the blackcrowdsatthegates.'Soldierstoholdtheroads,'hesaid;'we'rejustintime—letherrip,Poiccart.'ItwasnotuntiltheystrucktheopencountrythatPoiccartobeyed,andthenthegreatracerleaptforward,andtherushofwindbuffetedthemen'sfaceswithgreatsoftblows.Once in the loneliest part of the road they came upon telegraph wires thattrailedinthehedge.Leon'seyesdancedatthesightofit.'If they'vecut theothers, thechase isover,' he said; 'they'llhavecarsout inhalfanhourandbe followingus;weareprettysure toattractattention,andthey'llbeabletotraceus.'Attract attention they certainly did, for leaving Colchester behind, they ranintoapolicetrap,andagesticulatingconstablesignalledthemtostop.They left himbehind in a thick cloudofdust.Keeping to theClacton road,theyhadaclearruntilltheyreachedadesertedstripwhereafarmwagonhadbrokendownandblockedallprogress.Agrinningwagonersawtheirembarrassment.'Youcairn't passhere,mister,' he saidgleefully, 'and there ain't another roadfortwomilesback.'

'Whereareyourhorses?'askedLeonquickly.'Backtofarm,'grinnedtheman.'Good,'saidLeon.Helookedround,therewasnobodyinsight.'Go back there with the car,' he said, and signalled Poiccart to reverse theengine.'Whatfor?'Leonwasoutofthecar,walkingwithquickstepstothelumberingwreckintheroad.Hestoopeddown,madeaswiftexamination,andthrustsomethingbeneaththehugebulk.Helitamatch,steadiedtheflame,andranbackward,clutchingtheslow-movingyokelanddragginghimwithhim."Ere,wot's this?' demanded theman, but before he could reply therewas adeafeningcrash,likeaclapofthunder,andtheairwasfilledwithwreckage.Leonmadeasecondexaminationandcalledthecarforward.Ashesprangintohisseatheturnedtothedazedrustic.'TellyourmasterthatIhavetakenthelibertyofdynamitinghiscart,'hesaid;andthen,asthemanmadeamovementasiftoclutchhisarm,Leongavehima pushwhich sent him flying, and the car jolted over the remainder of thewagon.The car turnednow in thedirectionofWalton, and after a short run, turnedsharplytowardthesea.Twentyminutes later twocars thunderedalong thesameroad,stoppinghereandthereforthechiefwardertoaskthequestionofthechance-metpedestrian.Theytooswungroundtotheseaandfollowedthecliffroad.'Look!'saidaman.Rightahead,drawnupbythesideoftheroad,wasacar.Itwasempty.Theysprangoutastheyreachedit—halfadozenwardersfromeachcar.Theyracedacrossthegreenturftilltheycametothesheeredgeofthecliff.Therewasnosignofthefugitive.The serene blue of sea was unbroken, save where, three miles away, abeautifulwhitesteamyachtwasputtingouttosea.Attractedbytheappearanceofthewarders,alittlecrowdcameroundthem.'Yes,'saidawonderingfisherman,'Iseed'em,threeof'emwentoutinoneoftheymotorboatsthatgolikelightenin'—they'reouto'sightbynow.''Whatshipisthat?'askedthechiefwarderquicklyandpointedtothedeparting

yacht.Thefishermanremovedhispipeandanswered:'That'stheRoyalYacht.''WhatRoyalYacht?''ThePrinceoftheEscorials,'saidthefishermanimpressively.Thechiefwardergroaned.'Well,theycan'tbeonher!'hesaid.

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