Madame sat down. One after another the men leaped up on to the daïs, each in his own tongue striving to give vent to the frenzy she had raised within him. They discussed the subject hotly. The problem of aërial navigation had plainly caught their fancy. Then up spake Dr. Drabble.
"Dreams," he said; "yes, brothers, at present these are but dreams. But they are dreams which it is for us to make realities. Brothers, I bring no inventive powers to this task. But I bring you the sinews of war. I bring money--money amply sufficient for our present needs--fifty thousand pounds. A million and more of francs, a million of marks, a million of lire, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I give it to you--all to you--all to the Brotherhood."
A roar of applause from the crowd, then a dead silence, at the words that followed. They were as a douche of cold water on red-hot iron.
"But there are difficulties," he said calmly, "not wholly unsurmountable. A brother has this money, gained through a scheme of mine--of Madame here. To-night that money should have been with us. Alas, it is not." Drabble then paused to give due effect to his next words. They came with a hiss. "The brother who has that money is a traitor."
No outcry this time, no openly expressed disapprobation, only a low deadly murmur of hatred and contempt. Every face expressed loathing for the traitor. Every hand itched to be at his throat. The wild beasts seemed to crouch for the spring.
"The traitor's name is Carlo Boldini," said the doctor. "Remember that name, that you may engrave it on his tomb."
"My nephew this man," cried Madame, with a cruel smile. "My nephew whom I devote to death. I spit on the traitor. I stamp him under my foot. To betray the great and glorious cause of humanity--robber, beast, one lower than the brutes. Here, you always-to-be-trusted comrades of Germany, the cause has been by my nephew--most vile of creatures--betrayed. When you beside him stand, kill. Brothers of France, the fraternity call upon you to execute the vengeance. Understand you the horror of betrayal? Children of Robespierre, I delegate to you the task of giving him the death. Down with the traitor. Death to him--death."
"Death," "death," "death"--the word echoed in all languages through the cellar. Every one present, man or woman, doomed Carlo Boldini to death from that moment. His aunt smiled approval. She would have slain him herself for the cause.
"Brothers"--the doctor was on his feet again--"the traitor, with a woman, has fled to Italy--to Florence. He has been followed. Our brother who has watched him there reports that he and his wife have escaped in disguise to Genoa. Our brother still follows. The traitor has taken ship for South America, with the money so hardly won. On that ship our brother watches him. Wherever he goes the eye of the Brotherhood marks him. Fear not! Vengeance shall blot him out from amidst the humanity he has so basely betrayed. My comrades, you volunteer to punish this traitor and the woman Clara Trall."
Before any one could speak, Jeremiah, haggard-faced, with terror in his eyes, broke through the throng and flung himself on his knees.