to this place?"
"Yes, yes," eagerly cried the spy. "Spare me, spare me, and I willtell you everything. Three members of the police force were appointedto follow, in a carriage, the vehicle that brought me here. They wereto wait about until the meeting broke up and then shadow the tallestman and a crook-necked man to their lodgings and identify them. Theyare now waiting in the dark shadows of the warehouse."
"Did you have any signal agreed upon with them?" asked the cripple.
"Yes," the wretch replied, conscious that he was giving up hisassociates to certain death, but willing to sacrifice the whole worldif he might save his own life. "Spare me, spare me, and I win tellyou all."
"Proceed," said the cripple.
"I would not trust myself to be known by them. I agreed with PrinceCabano upon a signal between us. I am to come to them, if I needtheir help, and say: 'Good evening, what time is it?' The reply is,'It is thieves' time.' Then I am to say, 'The more the better;' andthey are to follow me."
"Richard," said the cripple, "did you hear that?"
"Yes."
"Take six men with you; leave them in the brew-house cellar; lead thepolice thither; throw the bodies in the river."
The man called Richard withdrew, with his men, to his work of murder.
The prisoner rolled his eyes appealingly around that dreadful circle.
"Spare me!" he cried. "I know the secrets of the banks. I can leadyou into the Prince of Cabano's house. Do not kill me.
"Is that all?" asked the giant.
"Yes," replied the cripple.
In an instant the huge man, like some beast that had been long heldback from its prey, gave a leap forward, his face revealing terribleferocity; it was a tiger that glares, plunges and devours. I sawsomething shining, brilliant and instantaneous as an electric flash;then there was the sound of a heavy blow. The spy sprang clean out ofthe hands that were holding him, high up in the air; and fell, closeto me, stone dead. He had been dead, indeed, when he made thatfearful leap. His heart was split in twain. His spring was not theact of the man; it was the protest of the body against the rush ofthe departing spirit; it was the clay striving to hold on to the soul.
The giant stooped and wiped his bloody knife upon the clothes of thedead man. The cripple laughed a crackling, hideous laugh. I hope Godwill never permit me to hear such a laugh again. Others took itup--it echoed all around the room. I could think of nothing but thecachinnations of the fiends as the black gates burst open and newhordes of souls are flung, startled and shrieking, into hell.
"Thus die all the enemies of the Brotherhood!" cried the thin voiceof the cripple.
And long and loud they shouted.
"Remove the body through the back door," said the giant, "and throwit into the river."
"Search his clothes first," said the cripple.
They did so, and found the money which the Prince had ordered to begiven him--it was the price of his life--and also a bundle of papers.The former was handed over to the treasurer of the Brotherhood; thelatter were taken possession of by the vice-president.
Then, resuming his seat, the giant said:
"Gabriel Weltstein, the Brotherhood thank you for the great serviceyou have rendered them. We regret that your scruples will not permityou to become one of us; but we regard you as a friend and we honoryou as a man; and if at any time the Brotherhood can serve you, beassured its full powers shall be put forth in your behalf."
I was too much shocked by the awful scene I had just witnessed to domore than bow my head.
"There is one thing more," he continued, "we shall ask of you; andthat is that you will repeat your story once again to another man,who will soon be brought here. We knew from Maximilian what you wereabout to tell, and we made our arrangements accordingly. Do notstart," he said, "or look alarmed--there will be no more executions."
Turning to the men, he said: "Resume your masks." He covered his ownface, and all the rest did likewise.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MAMELUKES OF THE AIR
The vice-president of the Brotherhood leaned forward and whispered toone of the secretaries, who, taking two men with him, left the room.A seat was given me. There was a pause of perhaps ten minutes. Not awhisper broke the silence. Then there came a rap at the door. Theother secretary went to it. There was whispering and consultation;then the door opened and the secretary and his two companionsentered, leading a large man, blindfolded. He wore a militaryuniform. They stopped in the middle of the room.
"General Jacob Quincy," said the stern voice of the president,"before we remove the bandage from your eyes I ask you to repeat, inthis presence, the pledge you made to the representative of theBrotherhood, who called upon you today."
The man said:
"I was informed by your messenger that you had a communication tomake to me which involved the welfare, and perhaps the lives, of theofficers and men commanding and manning the air-vessels, orwar-ships, called by the people 'The Demons.' You invited me hereunder a pledge of safe conduct; you left your messenger with my men,as hostage for my return; and I promised never to reveal to mortalear anything that I might see or hear, except so far as it might benecessary, with your consent, to do so to warn my command of thosedangers which you assure me threaten them. This promise I here renew,and swear by the Almighty God to keep it forever inviolate."
"Remove his bandage," said the president.
They did so, and there stood before me the handsome and intelligentofficer whom I had seen last night in the Prince of Cabano'scouncil-chamber.
The president nodded to the cripple, as if by some pre-arrangement,and said, "Proceed."
"General Jacob Quincy," said the thin, penetrating voice of thevice-president of the Order, "you visited a certain house last night,on a matter of business, connected with your command. How many menknew of your visit?"
"Three," said the general, with a surprised look. "I am tocommunicate the results to a meeting of my command tomorrow night;but I thought it better to keep the matter pretty much to myselfuntil that time."
"May I ask who were the men to whom you spoke of the matter?"
"I might object to your question," he said, "but that I supposesomething important lies behind it. The men were my brother, Col.Quincy; my adjutant-general, Captain Underwood, and my friend MajorHartwright."
"Do you think any of these men would tell your story to any one else?"
"Certainly not. I would venture my life upon their prudence andsecrecy, inasmuch as I asked them to keep the matter to themselves.But why do you ask such questions?"
"Because," said the wily cripple, "I have a witness here who is aboutto reveal to you everything you said and did in that council-chamberlast night, even to the minutest detail. If you had told your storyto many, or to untrustworthy persons, there might be a possibilitythat this witness had gleaned the facts from others; and that he hadnot been present, as he claims; and therefore that you could notdepend upon what he says as to other matters of importance. Do yourecognize the justice of my reasoning?"
"Certainly," said the general. "If you produce here a man who cantell me just where I was last night, what I said, and what was saidto me, I shall believe that he was certainly present; for I well knowhe did not get it from me or my friends; and I know, equally well,that none of those with whom I had communication would tell what tookplace to you or any friend of yours."
"Be kind enough to stand up," said the cripple to me. I did so.
"Did you ever see that man before?" he asked the general.
The general looked at me intently.
"Never," he replied.
"Have you ever seen this man before?" he asked me.
"Yes," I replied.
"When and where?"
"Last night; at the palace of Prince Cabano--in his council-chamber."
"Proceed, and tell the whole story."
I did so. The general listened closely, never relaxing his scrutinyof my face. When I ha
d finished my account of the interview, thecripple asked the general whether it was a faithful narration of whathad taken place. He said it was--wonderfully accurate in everyparticular.
"You believe him, then, to be a truthful witness," asked the cripple,"and that he was present at your interview, with the Council of thePlutocracy?"
'I do," said General Quincy.
"Now proceed," he said to me, "to tell what took place after thisgentleman left the room."
I did so. The face of the general darkened into a scowl as Iproceeded, and he flushed with rage when I had concluded my story.
"Do you desire to ask the witness any questions?"
Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth Century Page 28
