He stood for several minutes lost in deep thought. I felt that the destiny of the world hung tremblingly in the balance. At last he spoke, in a low voice.
"Who represents your organization?" he asked.
"The Executive Committee," replied the president.
"Who are they?" he inquired.
"Myself,--the vice-president"--pointing to the cripple--"and yonder gentleman"--designating the cowled and masked figure of Maximilian, who stood near me.
"Could I have a private conference with you?" he asked.
"Yes," replied the president, somewhat eagerly; "come this way."
All four moved to a side door, which seemed to lead into another subterranean chamber;--the cripple carried a torch.
"Wait here for me," said Maximilian, as he passed me.
I sat down. The cowled figures remained seated around the walls. Not a sound broke the profound silence. I could see that all eyes were fixed upon the door by which the Executive Committee had left us, and my own were riveted there also.