"What became of the men?" asked Andrews, curiously.

"Nine of them were sent to Siberia for life; the tenth man, who had revealed the hiding-place of the guns, was murdered that night with his wife and all his family, and his house burned up. Even two of his brothers, who lived near him, but had taken no part in the matter, were also slain."

"I expected as much," said Andrews quietly.

This unlooked-for corroboration of the spy's story produced a marked sensation, and there was profound silence for some minutes.

At last the Prince spoke up:

"Andrews," said he, "what did you learn about the leaders of this organization?"

"There are three of them, I am told," replied the spy; they const.i.tute what is known as 'the Executive Committee.' The commander-in-chief, it is whispered, is called, or was called--for no one can tell what his name is now--Caesar Lomellini; a man of Italian descent, but a native of South Carolina. He is, it is said, of immense size, considerable ability, and the most undaunted courage.

His history is singular. He is now about forty-five years of age. In his youth, so the story goes, he migrated to the then newly settled State of Jefferson, on the upper waters of the Saskatchewan. He had married early, like all his race, and had a family. He settled down on land and went to farming. He was a quiet, peaceable, industrious man. One year, just as he was about to harvest his crops, a discharge of lightning killed his horses; they were the only ones he had. He was without the means to purchase another team, and without horses he could not gather his harvest. He was therefore forced to mortgage his land for enough to buy another pair of horses. The money-lender demanded large interest on the loan and an exorbitant bonus besides; and as the 'bankers,' as they called themselves, had an organization, he could not get the money at a lower rate anywhere in that vicinity.

It was the old story. The crops failed sometimes, and when they did not fail the combinations and trusts of one sort or another swept away Caesar's profits; then he had to renew the loan, again and again, at higher rates of interest, and with still greater bonuses; then the farm came to be regarded as not sufficient security for the debt; and the horses, cattle, machinery, everything he had was covered with mortgages. Caesar worked like a slave, and his family toiled along with him. At last the crash came; he was driven out of his home; the farm and all had been lost for the price of a pair of horses. Right on the heels of this calamity, Caesar learned that his eldest daughter--a beautiful, dark-eyed girl--had been seduced by a lawyer--the agent of the money-lender--and would in a few months become a mother. Then all the devil that lay hid in the depths of the man's nature broke forth. That night the lawyer was attacked in his bed and literally hewed to pieces: the same fate overtook the money-lender. Before morning Caesar and his family had fled to the inhospitable mountain regions north of the settlement. There he gathered around him a band of men as desperate as himself, and waged b.l.o.o.d.y and incessant war on society. He seemed, however, to have a method in his crimes, for, while he spared the poor, no man who preyed upon his fellow-men was safe for an hour. At length the government ma.s.sed a number of troops in the vicinity; the place got too hot for him; Caesar and his men fled to the Pacific coast; and nothing more was heard of him for three or four years. Then the terrible negro insurrection broke out in the lower Mississippi Valley, which you all remember, and a white man, of gigantic stature, appeared as their leader, a man of great daring and enterprise. When that rebellion had been suppressed, after many battles, the white man disappeared; and it is now claimed that he is in this city at the head of this terrible Brotherhood of Destruction; and that he is the same Caesar Lomellini who was once a peaceful farmer in the State of Jefferson."

The spy paused. The Prince said:

"Well, who are the others?"

"It is reported that the second in command, but really 'the brains of the organization,' as he is called by the men, is a Russian Jew. His name I could not learn; very few have seen him or know anything about him. He is said to be a cripple, and to have a crooked neck. It is reported he was driven out of his synagogue in Russia, years ago, for some crimes he had committed. He is believed to be the man who organized the Brotherhood in Europe, and he has come here to make the two great branches act together. If what is told of him be true, he must be a man of great ability, power and cunning."

"Who is the third?" asked the Prince.

"There seems to be more obscurity about him than either of the others," replied the spy. "I heard once that he was an American, a young man of great wealth and ability, and that he had furnished much of the money needed to carry on the Brotherhood. But this again is denied by others. Jenkins, who was one of our party, and who was killed some months since, told me, in our last interview, that he had penetrated far enough to find out who the third man was; and he told me this curious story, which may or may not be true. He said that several years ago there lived in this city a man of large fortune, a lawyer by education, but not engaged in the practice of his profession, by the name of Arthur Phillips. He was a benevolent man, of scholarly tastes, and something of a dreamer. He had made a study of the works of all the great socialist writers, and had become a convert to their theories, and very much interested in the cause of the working people. He established a monthly journal for the dissemination of his views. He spoke at the meetings of the workmen, and was very much beloved and respected by them. Of course, so Jenkins said, all this was very distasteful to the ruling cla.s.s (I am only repeating the story as it was told to me, your lordships will please remember), and they began to persecute him. First he was ostracised from his caste. But this did not trouble him much. He had no family but his wife and one son who was away at the university. He redoubled his exertions to benefit the working cla.s.ses. At this time he had a lawsuit about some property with a wealthy and influential man, a member of the government. In the course of the trial Phillips produced a writing, which purported to be signed by two men, and witnessed by two others; and Phillips swore he saw all of them sign it. Whereupon not only the men themselves, but the two witnesses to the paper, came up and swore, point-blank, that their alleged signatures were forgeries. There were four oaths against one.

Phillips lost his case. But this was not the worst of it. The next day he was indicted for forgery and perjury; and, despite his wealth and the efforts of the ablest counsel he could employ, he was convicted and sentenced to twenty years' penal servitude in the state prison. His friends said he was innocent; that he had been sacrificed by the ruling cla.s.s, who feared him and desired to destroy him; that all the witnesses had been suborned by large sums of money to swear as they did; that the jury was packed, the judge one of their tools, and even his own lawyers corrupted. After several years his son--who bore the same name as himself--Arthur Phillips--returned from the university; and Jenkins told me that he had learned, in some mysterious way, that this was really the man who, out of revenge for the wrongs inflicted on his father, was now the third member of the Executive Committee of the Brotherhood, and had furnished them with large sums of money."

As this story progressed, listened to most attentively by all, I noticed that one large man, flashily dressed, flushed somewhat, and that the rest turned and looked at him. When Andrews stopped, the Prince said, quietly:

"Count, that is your man."

"Yes," replied the man spoken to, very coolly. "There is, however, no truth," he added, "in the latter part of the story; for I have had detectives shadow young Phillips ever since he returned to the city, and they report to me that he is a shallow, dissipated, drunken, worthless fellow, who spends his time about saloons and running after actresses and singers; and that it will not be long until he will have neither health nor fortune left."

I need not say that I was an intent listener to everything, and especially to the latter part of the spy's story. I pieced it out with what Maximilian had told me, and felt certain that Maximilian Petion and Arthur Phillips were one and the same person. I could now understand why it was that a gentleman so intelligent, frank and kindly by nature could have engaged in so desperate and b.l.o.o.d.y a conspiracy. Nor could I, with that awful narrative ringing in my cars, blame him much. What struck me most forcibly was that there was no attempt, on the part of the Count, to deny the sinister part of Jenkins' story; and the rest of the Council evidently had no doubt of its truth; nor did it seem to lessen him a particle in their esteem.

In fact, one man said, and the rest a.s.sented to the sentiment:

"Well, it is a lucky thing the villain is locked up, anyhow."

There were some among these men whose faces were not bad. Under favorable circ.u.mstances they might have been good and just men. But they were the victims of a pernicious system, as fully as were the poor, shambling, ragged wretches of the streets and slums, who had been ground down by their acts into drunkenness and crime.

"When will the outbreak come?" asked one of the Council.

"That I cannot tell," said Andrews. "They seem to be waiting for something, or there is a hitch in their plans. The men are eager to break forth, and are only held back by the leaders. By their talk they are confident of success when the insurrection does come."

"What are their plans?" asked the Prince.

"They have none," replied Andrews, "except to burn, rob, destroy and murder. They have long lists of the condemned, I am told, including all those here present, and hundreds of thousands besides. They will kill all the men, women and children of the aristocracy, except the young girls, and these will be reserved for a worse fate--at least that is what the men about the beer-houses mutter between their cups."

The members of the government looked uneasy; some even were a trifle pale.

"Can you come here Wednesday night next and tell us what you learn during your visit to their 'Council of One Hundred'?" asked the Prince.

"Yes," replied Andrews--"if I am alive. But it is dangerous for me to come here."

"Wait in the library," said the Prince, "until I am at liberty, and I will give you an order for the thousand dollars I promised you; and also a key that will admit you to this house at any hour of the day or night. Gentlemen," he said, turning to his a.s.sociates, "have you any further questions to ask this man?"

They had none, and Andrews withdrew.

"I think," said the Prince, "we had better rea.s.semble here on Wednesday night. Matters are growing critical."

This was agreed to. The Prince stepped to the door and whispered a few words to Rudolph.

CHAPTER XV.

THE MASTER OF "THE DEMONS"

The door, in a few minutes, opened, and closed behind a tall, handsome, military-looking man, in a bright uniform, with the insignia of a brigadier-general of the United States army on his shoulders.

The Prince greeted him respectfully and invited him to a seat.

"General Quincy," said the Prince, "I need not introduce you to these gentlemen; you have met them all before. I have told them that you desired to speak to them about matters relating to your command; and they are ready to hear you."

"Gentlemen," said the General, rising to his feet, "I regret to have to approach you once more in reference to the pay of the officers and men of my command. I fear you will think them importunate, if not unreasonable. I am not here of my own volition, but as the mouthpiece of others. Neither have I incited them to make these demands for increased pay. The officers and men seem to have a high sense of their great importance in the present condition of public affairs.

They openly declare that those they maintain in power are enjoying royal affluence, which they could not possess for a single day without their aid; and therefore they claim that they should be well paid."

The General paused, and the Prince said, in his smoothest tones:

"That is not an unreasonable view to take of the matter. What do they ask?"

"I have here," replied the General, drawing a paper from his pocket, "a schedule of their demands, adopted at their last meeting." He handed it to the Prince.

"You will see," he continued, "that it ranges from $5,000 per year, for the common soldiers, up through the different grades, to $25,000 per year for the commanding officer."

Not a man at the Council table winced at this extraordinary demand.

The Prince said:

"The salaries asked for are high; but they will come out of the public taxes and not from our pockets; and if you can a.s.sure me that your command, in view of this increase of compensation, will work with increased zeal, faithfulness and courage on behalf of law, order and society, I, for one, should be disposed to accede to the demand you make. What say you, gentlemen?"

There was a general expression of a.s.sent around the table.

The commander of the Demons thanked them, and a.s.sured them that the officers and men would be glad to hear that their request was granted, and that the Council might depend upon their valor and devotion in any extremity of affairs.

"Have you an abundant supply of the death-bombs on hand?" asked the Prince.

"Yes, many tons of them," was the reply.

"Are they well guarded?"

"Yes, with the utmost care. A thousand men of my command watch over them constantly."