Delphi Collected Works of Marie Corelli (Illustrated) (Delphi Series Eight Book 22)
Page 532
“You see!” exclaimed Axel Regor excitedly, “There is danger — —”
“Danger? Of what?” asked Pasquin Leroy coldly;— “Of death? Each one of us, and all three of us would fully merit it, if we broke our word! Gentlemen both!” — and he addressed his two companions, “If you fear any harm may come to yourselves through joining this society, pray withdraw while there is yet time! My own mind is made up; I intend to become familiar with the work of the Revolutionary Committee, and to aid its cause by my personal service!”
A loud murmur of applause came from the company. Axel Regor and Max Graub glanced at Leroy, and saw in his face that his decision was unalterable.
“Then we will work for the Cause, also,” said Max Graub resignedly. “What you determine upon, we shall do, shall we not, Axel?”
Axel Regor gave a brief assent.
Sergius Thord looked at them all straightly and keenly.
“You have finally decided?”
“We have!” replied Leroy. “We will enrol ourselves as your associates at once.”
Whereupon Johan Zegota rose from his place, and unlocking an iron safe which stood in one corner of the room, took out a roll of parchment and handed it to Thord, who, unfolding it, read in a clear though low voice the following: —
“We, the Revolutionary Committee, are organized as a Brotherhood, bound by all the ties of life, death, and our common humanity, to destroy the abuses, and redress the evils, which self-seeking and tyrannous Governments impose upon the suffering poor.
“Firstly: We bind ourselves to resist all such laws as may in any degree interfere with the reasonable, intellectual, and spiritual freedom of man or woman.
“Secondly: We swear to agitate against all forms of undue and excessive taxation, which, while scarcely affecting the rich, make life more difficult and unendurable to the poor.
“Thirdly: We protest against the domination of priestcraft, and the secret methods which are employed by the Church to obtain undue influence in Governmental matters.
“Fourthly: We are determined to stand firmly against the entrance of foreign competitors in the country’s trade and business. All heads and ruling companies of firms employing foreigners instead of native workmen, are marked out by us as traitors, and are reserved for traitors’ punishment.
“Fifthly: We are sworn to exterminate the existing worthless Government, and to replace it by a working body of capable and intelligent men, elected by the universal vote of the entire country. Such elections must take place freely and openly, and no secret influence shall be used to return any one person or party to power. Those attempting to sway opinion by bribery and corruption, will be named to the public, and exposed to disgrace and possible death.
“Sixthly: We are resolved to unmask to the public the duplicity, treachery, and self-interested motives of the Secretary of State, Carl Pérousse.
“Seventhly: We are sworn to bring about such changes as shall elevate a Republic to supreme power, and for this purpose are solemnly pledged to destroy the present Monarchy.”
“These,” said Sergius Thord, “are the principal objects of our Society’s work. There are other points to be considered, but these are sufficient for the present. I will now read the rules, which each member of our Brotherhood must follow if he would serve us faithfully.”
He turned over another leaf of the parchment scroll he held, and continued, reading very slowly and distinctly:
“Rule 1. — Each member of the Revolutionary Committee shall swear fidelity to the Cause, and pledge himself to maintain inviolable secrecy on all matters connected with his membership and his work for the Society.
“Rule 2. — No member shall track, follow, or enquire into the movements of any other member.
“Rule 3. — Once in every month all members are expected to meet together at a given place, decided upon by the Chief of the Committee at the previous meeting, when business will be discussed, and lots drawn, to determine the choice of such members as may be fitted to perform such business.
“Rule 4. — No member shall be bound to give his address, or to state where he travels, or when or how he goes, as in all respects save that of his membership he is a free man.
“Rule 5. — In this same respect of his membership, he is bound to appear, or to otherwise report himself once a month at the meeting of the Committee. Should he fail to do so either by person, or by letter satisfactorily explaining his absence, he will be judged as a traitor, and dealt with accordingly.
“Rule6. — In the event of any member being selected to perform any deed involving personal danger or loss to himself, the rest of the members are pledged to shelter him from the consequences of his act, and to provide him with all the necessaries of life, till his escape from harm is ensured and his safety guaranteed.”
“You have heard all now,” said Thord, as he laid aside the parchment scroll; “Are you still willing to take the oath?”
“Entirely so!” rejoined Pasquin Leroy cheerfully; “You have but to administer it.”
Here a man, who had been sitting in a dark corner apart from the table, with his head buried in his hands, suddenly looked up, showing a thin, fine, eager face, a pair of wild eyes, and a tumbled mass of dark curly hair, plentifully sprinkled with grey.
“Ah!” he cried,— “Now comes the tragic moment, when the spectators hold their breath, and the blue flame is turned on, and the man manages the lime-light so that its radiance shall fall on the face of the chief actor — or Actress! And the bassoons and ‘cellos grumble inaudible nothings to the big drum! Administer the oath, Sergius Thord!”
A smile went the round of the company.
“Have you only just wakened up from sleep, Paul Zouche?” asked Zegota.
“I never sleep,” answered Zouche, pushing his hair back from his forehead;— “Unless sleep compels me, by force, to yield to its coarse and commonplace persuasion. To lie down in a shirt and snore the hours away! Faugh! Can anything be more gross or vulgar! Time flies so quickly, and life is so short, that I cannot afford to waste any moment in such stupid unconsciousness. I can drink wine, make love, and kill rascals — all these occupations are much more interesting than sleeping. Come, Sergius! Play the great trick of the evening! Administer the oath!”
A frowning line puckered Thord’s brows, but the expression of vexation was but momentary. Turning to Leroy again he said:
“You are quite ready?”
“Quite,” replied Leroy.
“And your friends —— ?”
Leroy smiled. “They are ready also!”
There followed a pause. Then Thord called in a clear low tone —
“Lotys!”
The woman sitting in the embrasure of the window rose, and turning round fully confronted all the men. Her black cloak falling back on either side, disclosed her figure robed in dead white, with a scarlet sash binding her waist. Her face, pale and serene, was not beautiful; yet beauty was suggested in every feature. Her eyes seemed to be half closed in a drooping indifference under the white lids, which were fringed heavily with dark gold lashes. A sculptor might have said, that whatever claim to beauty she had was contained in the proud poise of her throat, and the bounteous curve of her bosom, but though in a manner startled by her appearance, the three men who had chanced upon this night’s adventure were singularly disappointed in it. They had somehow expected that when that mysterious cloaked feminine figure turned round, a vision of dazzling beauty would be disclosed; and at the first glance there was nothing whatever about this woman that seemed particularly worthy of note. She was not young or old — possibly between twenty-eight or thirty. She was not tall or short; she was merely of the usual medium height, — so that altogether she was one of those provoking individuals, who not seldom deceive the eye at first sight by those ordinary looks which veil an extraordinary personality.
She stood like an automatic figure, rigid and silent, — till Sergius Thord signed to his three new associates to advance
. Then with a movement, rapid as a flash of lightning, she suddenly drew a dagger from her scarlet girdle, and held it out to them. Nerved as he was to meet danger, Pasquin Leroy recoiled slightly, while his two companions started as if to defend him. As she saw this, the woman raised her drooping eyelids, and a pair of wonderful eyes shone forth, dark blue as iris-flowers, while a faint scornful smile lifted the corners of her mouth. But she said nothing.
“There is no cause to fear!” said Sergius Thord, glancing with a touch of derision in his looks from one to the other, “Lotys is the witness of all our vows! Swear now after me upon this drawn dagger which she holds, — lay your right hands here upon the blade!”
Thus adjured, Pasquin Leroy approached, and placed his right hand upon the shining steel.
“I swear in the name of God, and in the presence of Lotys, that I will faithfully work for the Cause of the Revolutionary Committee, — and that I will adhere to its rules and obey its commands, till all shall be done that is destined to be done! And may the death I deserve come suddenly upon me if ever I break my vow!”
Slowly and emphatically Pasquin Leroy repeated this formula after Sergius Thord, and his two companions did the same, though perhaps less audibly. This ceremony performed, the woman called Lotys looked at them steadfastly, and the smile that played on her lips changed from scorn to sweetness. The dark blue iris-coloured eyes deepened in lustre, and flashed brilliantly from under their drowsy lids, — a rosy flush tinted the clear paleness of her skin, and like a statue warming to life she became suddenly beautiful.
“You have sworn bravely!” she said, in a low thrilling voice. “Now sign and seal!”
As she spoke she lifted her bare left arm, and pricked it with the point of the dagger. A round, full drop of blood like a great ruby welled up on the white skin. All the men had risen from their places, and were gathered about her; — this ‘taking of the oath’ was evidently the dramatic event of their existence as a community.
“The pen, Sergius!” she said.
Thord approached with a white unused quill, and a vellum scroll on which the names of all the members of the Society were written in ominous red. He handed these writing implements to Leroy.
“Dip your pen here,” said Lotys, pointing to the crimson drop on her arm, and eyeing him still with the same half-sweet, half-doubting smile— “But when the quill is full, beware that you write no treachery!”
For one second Leroy appeared to hesitate. He was singularly unnerved by the glances of those dark blue eyes, which like searchlights seemed to penetrate into every nook and cranny of his soul. But his recklessness and love of adventure having led him so far, it was now too late to retract or to reconsider the risks he might possibly be running. He therefore took the quill and dipped it into the crimson drop that welled from that soft white flesh.
“This is the strangest ink I have ever used!” he said lightly,— “but — at your command, Madame —— !”
“At my command,” rejoined Lotys, “your use of it shall make your oath indelible!”
He smiled, and wrote his name boldly ‘Pasquin Leroy’ and held out the pen for his companions to follow his example.
“Ach Gott!” exclaimed Max Graub, as he dipped the pen anew into the vital fluid from a woman’s veins— “I write my name, Madame, in words of life, thanks to your condescension!”
“True!” she answered,— “And only by your own falsehood can you change them into words of death!”
Signing his name ‘Max Graub,’ he looked up and met her searching gaze. Something there was in the magnetic depth of her eyes that strangely embarrassed him, for he stepped back hastily as though intimidated. Axel Regor took the pen from his hand, and wrote his name, or rather scrawled it carelessly, almost impatiently, — showing neither hesitation nor repugnance to this unusual method of subscribing a document.
“You are acting on compulsion!” said Lotys, addressing him in a low tone; “Your compliance is in obedience to some other command than ours! And — you will do well to remain obedient!”
Axel Regor gave her an amazed glance, — but she paid no heed to it, and binding her arm with her kerchief, let her long white sleeve fall over it.
“So, you are enrolled among the sons of my blood!” she said, “So are you bound to me and mine!” She moved to the further end of the table and stood there looking round upon them all. Again the slow, sweet, half-disdainful smile irradiated her features. “Well, children! — what else remains to do? What next? What next can there be but drink — smoke — talk! Man’s three most cherished amusements!”
She sat down, throwing back her heavy cloak on either side of her. Her hair had come partly unbound, and noticing a tress of it falling on her shoulder, she drew out the comb and let it fall altogether in a mass of gold-brown, like the tint of a dull autumn leaf, flecked here and there with amber. Catching it dexterously in one hand, she twisted it up again in a loose knot, thrusting the comb carelessly through.
“Drink — smoke — talk, Sergius!” she repeated, still smiling; “Shall I ring?”
Sergius Thord stood looking at her irresolutely, with the half-angry, half-pleading expression of a chidden child.
“As you please, Lotys!” he answered. Whereupon she pressed an invisible spring under the table, which set a bell ringing in some lower quarter of the house.
“Pasquin Leroy, Axel Regor, Max Graub!” she said— “Take your places for to-night beside me — newcomers are always thus distinguished! And all of you sit down! You are grouped at present like hungry wolves waiting to spring. But you are not really hungry, except for something which is not food! And you are not waiting for anything except for permission to talk! I give it to you — talk, children! Talk yourselves hoarse! It will do you good! And I will personate supreme wisdom by listening to you in silence!”
A kind of shamed laugh went round the company, — then followed the scuffling of feet, and grating of chairs against the floor, and presently the table was completely surrounded, the men sitting close up together, and Sergius Thord occupying his place at their head.
When they were all seated, they formed a striking assembly of distinctly marked personalities. There were very few mean types among them, and the stupid, half-vague and languid expression of the modern loafer or ‘do nothing’ creature, who just for lack of useful work plots mischief, was not to be seen on any of their countenances. A certain moroseness and melancholy seemed to brood like a delayed storm among them, and to cloud the very atmosphere they breathed, but apart from this, intellectuality was the dominant spirit suggested by their outward looks and bearing. Plebeian faces and vulgar manners are, unfortunately, not rare in representative gatherings of men whose opinions are allowed to sway the destinies of nations, and it was strange to see a group of individuals who were sworn to upset existing law and government so distinguished by refined and even noble appearance. Their clothes were shabby, — their aspect certainly betokened long suffering and contention with want and poverty, but they were, taken all together, a set of men who, if they had been members of a recognized parliament or senate, would have presented a fine collection of capable heads to an observant painter. As soon as they were gathered round the table under the presidency of Sergius Thord at one end, and the tranquil tolerance of the mysterious Lotys at the other, they broke through the silence and reserve which they had carefully maintained till their three new comrades had been irrecoverably enrolled among them, and conversation went on briskly. The topic of ‘The King versus the Jesuits’ was one of the first they touched upon, Sergius Thord relating for the benefit of all his associates, how he had found Pasquin Leroy reading by lamplight the newspaper which reported his Majesty’s refusal to grant any portion of Crown lands to the priests, and which also spoke of ‘Thord’s Rabble.’
“Here is the paper!” said Leroy, as he heard the narration; “Whoever likes to keep it can do so, as a memento of my introduction to this Society!”
And he tossed it lightly on the
table.
“Good!” exclaimed Paul Zouche; “Give it to me, and I will cherish it as a kind of birthday card! What a rag it is! ‘Thord’s Rabble’ eh! Sergius, what have you been doing that this little flea of an editor should jump out of his ink-pot and bite you? Does he hurt much?”
“Hurt!” Thord laughed aloud. “If I had money enough to pay the man ten golden coins a week where his present employer gives him five, he would dance to any tune I whistled!”
“Is that so?” asked Leroy, with interest.
“Do you not know that it is so?” rejoined Thord. “You tell me you write Socialistic works — you should know something concerning the press.”
“Ah!” said Max Graub, nodding his head sagely, “He does know much, but not all! It would need more penetration than even he possesses, to know all! Alas! — my friend was never a popular writer!”
“Like myself!” exclaimed Zouche, “I am not popular, and I never shall be. But I know how to make myself reputed as a great genius, and all the very respectable literary men are beginning to recognize me as such. Do you know why?”
“Because you drink more than is good for you, my poor Zouche!” said Lotys tranquilly; “That is one reason!”
“Hear her!” cried Zouche,— “Does she not always, like the Sphinx, propound enigmas! Lotys, — little, domineering Lotys, why in the name of Heaven should I secure recognition as a poet, through drunkenness?”
“Because your vice kills your genius,” said Lotys; “Therefore you are quite safe! If you were less of a scamp you would be a great man, — perhaps the greatest in the country! That would never do! Your rivals would never forgive you! But you are a hopeless rascal, incapable of winning much honour; and so you are compassionately recognized as somebody who might do something if he only would — that is all, my Zouche! You are an excellent after-dinner topic with those who are more successful than yourself; and that is the only fame you will ever win, believe me!”