“General Mainwarren,” he said, “I don’t doubt the high impulses and sentiments which direct your action, otherwise your words would convey to me the grossest insult. Understanding these impulses and sentiments as I do, I can accept your words in the spirit in which they are intended. But, sir, remember that I wear the uniform of an American army officer. That uniform, so far as is known, has never covered but one traitor and the world-wide obloquy and contempt which in his own period and through succeeding generations has followed the name of Benedict Arnold, should be a sufficient example and lesson for prospective traitors in all generations to come. The function of an army officer is not to delve in social economics, or meddle with political questions. He must leave these matters to others. His duty is to uphold the government of the country and to forever stand ready to defend and die for, if needs be, the interests and the honor of his country and his flag. Such are the views I hold, General Mainwarren, and—you have my answer.”
The High President, in turn, paused before making reply.
“I, too,” he said at length, “understand and appreciate the sentiments which dictate your answer. I do not consider that these sentiments are correct from the highest and broadest standpoint of patriotism and human effort, but the answer, such as it is, I must accept, much as I regret it. And you,” he added, turning to Professor Dean; “what is your decision?”
The Professor answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“I am,” he said, “more in touch and sympathy with your project and your aims than Captain Mortimer is, or could be expected to be. Had you depicted to me those projects and described to me those aims on the day we first met, my answer might have been different from that which it now must be. As it is, I have embarked in this joint enterprise with my friend, Captain Mortimer, and I should regard myself as playing the rôle of traitor which he so severely contemns were I now to fail him. I shall stand shoulder to shoulder with Captain Mortimer in this enterprise, at least, to the very end.”
The High President rose and extended his hand.
“Re-meeting!” he exclaimed. “My mission here has failed. There is nothing more to be said.”
He moved toward the door. Dean called after him.
“One moment,” he cried; “there is a question I would ask. You spoke just now of blood having been spilled the night of the chase. What did you mean? Was there some mishap which happened to those we were pursuing? I saw no accident.”
“No,” answered the High President, pausing, “no accident occurred to any of those you were following. It was at the palace.”