"We desire to know," the speaker continued, "who wrote those words.
They do not sound like the words of one of our delegates. Johann and
Hesler, stand by the door. Turn up the lights. Let us see exactly who
there is here to-night, unknown to us."
There was a little murmur. A man who sat only three or four places off from Kendricks and Julien rose silently to his feet and moved towards the door. It was as yet locked, however. From the other end of the room the lights were suddenly heightened. The faces of the men were now distinctly visible. A light in the body of the hall flared up. A man was discovered with his hand upon the door handle. There was a hoarse murmur of voices.
"Who is he? Hold fast of the door! Let no one pass out!"
The man turned quickly round. The light flashed upon his face. Julien was the first to recognize him and he gripped Kendricks by the arm.
"My God!" he muttered, "it's Falkenberg himself! Who is the man with the key?"
Kendricks pointed to him. They crept closer. Then that hoarse murmur of voices turned suddenly into a low, passionate cry.
"Falkenberg! Falkenberg himself!"
The toymaker made no further attempt at concealment. He drew himself up and faced them. They were creeping towards him now from all corners of the room—an ugly-looking set of men, men with an ugly purpose in their faces.
"Yes, I am Falkenberg!" he cried. "I am here to spy upon you, if you will. Why not? Kill me, if you choose, but I warn you that if you do the whole of Germany will rise against you and your cause."
"Don't let him escape!" some one shouted from the platform.