"And your family, are they Anarchists also?"
I explained that my parents were dead and that I was the only one of my family who worked in the movement. She seemed surprised at this information, "But you must be rich," she said: "that jewellery you have brought is very beautiful; you are young, you could enjoy yourself, mix with those of your own class; why do you work in a printing-office instead?"
"But I am an Anarchist. We must all do what we can to help the Cause, I do my best; not more, however, than other comrades."
She seemed by now to have summed me up, though I was evidently still somewhat of a mystery to her, and she merely said:—
"Oh, of course we are all Anarchists; we all do our best for the Cause."
As she was leaving, Bonafede came down and said that Matthieu would like to see me if I saw fit, and together we mounted to the back attic where the dynamitard was concealed.
Nobody could have guessed on sight that the puny little man before me could be the dreaded Anarchist for whom the police of Europe had been searching high and low during the past seven months. Matthieu was a tailor by trade, and his physique bore traces of the sedentary work and of the long hours passed in close unhealthy rooms. He was slightly hunchbacked, his chest narrow and hollow, his legs bowed; his pale blue eyes with their swollen red lids had the strained expression of one accustomed to make use of the last rays of daylight before lighting the lamp. His massive jaw and firm round chin, and high narrow forehead were the only features which revealed in him the man of action and the fanatic. Yet this was the man who, by a series of explosions culminating in the blowing up of a police station, had spread terror in the ranks of the French bourgeoisie.
We shook hands, and I told them how I had been followed by Detective Limpet and how he and O'Brien were stationed opposite the house.
"Yes," said Bonafede, "it is certain that they suspect Matthieu's presence here; we must try to get rid of them in some way for a short while; set them off on some false scent, so as to enable our comrade to leave the house."
"If you would only let me do as I wish," broke in Matthieu, "I would soon be out of this. I have a good revolver and I am not afraid to use it. I would make a rush for it, and ten to one I should get off scot-free; and anyhow better be taken fighting than caught like a rat in a hole."