When all had gathered in the large room, Prokop entered and stood before them. He surveyed the entire group. Then he began to speak.
“Comrades,” he said, “I have important news to give you. One of our number has sought to betray us. What is the answer?”
“Death!” came a hiss from the group of dark-robed agents. “Death!”
“Death is the verdict,” repeated Prokop. “We shall act as one. Any who may encounter the betrayer must strike. Is it agreed?”
“Agreed!” came the murmur of voices.
“This agent is a woman,” continued Prokop. “Her name is Arlette DeLand. Seek her out. She must die. I shall show her picture to each of you as you leave.”
A low murmur ran through the group; it died away immediately. Prokop held up his hand for silence.
“There is work for one of us,” he said. “Great work. One of our number shall strike a glorious blow for our cause. To-morrow night, two men meet. One of them I shall not name — save to mention that he is an enemy to our cause. He intends to meet our archenemy, Prince Zuvor.”
An angry rumble surged through the crowd.
“Death!” hissed a voice, and another repeated the cry.