THE CONSPIRATORS.
While the illumination, with which the good people of the French city had celebrated the arrival of the two emperors, was in full blaze on the principal thoroughfares, only a single dim light was to be seen in a small building situated on the corner of one of the more quiet streets. The other windows of this house were dark, and all was silent as though no living beings were dwelling in it. From time to time, a closely-veiled man appeared in the neighborhood, and, after glancing at the light in the upper window, uttered a strange cry. A second light was soon moving to and fro, and disappearing again. The man approached and knocked repeatedly at the door, which opened and admitted him. Twelve men had entered. The light was extinguished; the door bolted on the inside, and profound silence reigned in the building.
The French police had devoted their whole attention to the principal streets of the city, and to the vast crowds that followed the emperors, who, accompanied by kings and princes, proceeded to admire the illumination. There were no eyes for this small, dark house in an obscure alley—no ears to listen to what was going on within. The twelve men who had entered in so mysterious a manner, had assembled in a large back room. They had whispered the password into the ear of the door-keeper, and were at once admitted.
The windows of this room were covered with heavy black curtains, which prevented sound, as well as light, from penetrating to the outside. Thirteen candlesticks were fixed at equal distances in the plain white walls. The man who had entered first approached the first candlestick and lighted the two tapers. He who came next did the same with the next candlestick, and the others followed their example. At this moment the tapers on twelve candlesticks wore burning; and only the thirteenth, which contained six tapers, had not yet been lighted. Around the long table standing in the middle of the room, twelve grave and silent men were sitting on cane-chairs, the high backs of which were carved in a peculiar, old-fashioned style; these men were closely wrapped in black cloaks, the capes of which concealed their heads, and their faces were covered with black half-masks, which they had put on immediately after entering the house. At the upper end of the table stood a black easy-chair, which was alone unoccupied. The flashing eyes peering from the capes were directed to this chair; no word was spoken; a breath was almost audible in the motionless assembly. Suddenly a narrow, secret door opened in the opposite wall, and a tall man, dressed and veiled like the others, made his appearance.
The assembly remained as before, and seemed to take no notice of the new-comer. The latter quickly walked to the thirteenth candlestick, and lighted its tapers. The others immediately rose from their seats and bowed deeply. "The president!" they murmured. "We greet him who has called us—we greet the president!" He nodded, and then went to the upper end of the table. Before sitting down, he opened a little the black cloak enveloping his whole form, and the others beheld a heavy silver chain adorning his breast, and to which was fastened a locket, decorated with diamonds. In the middle of it a skull was to be seen, and under it the inscription of "Liberty or Death!" As soon as the rest beheld this, they also opened their cloaks. Each of them wore a similar chain, locket, and inscription.
"Resume your seats, brethren," said the president, sitting down in the easy-chair. He then said in a loud, solemn voice, "The hour has come for us to act. Germany has called us, and, as obedient sons, we come! Germany, our beloved mother, is here in our midst, although we do not see her. She stands with veiled head and tearful eyes before her children, and asks us to give her an account of what we have done and accomplished. Brethren, are we ready?"
"We are!" all exclaimed, simultaneously.
"When we parted three months ago, my brethren," added the president, "we resolved to meet here to-day. I see that all have remained faithful to their oath. Not one is absent. No taper is unlit—the seats are occupied. Germania, that knows who are hers, and how to call them by their names, although they veil their heads,—Germania thanks you for your fidelity. She awaits our report. Let us speak! He who arrived first will commence."
One at the lower end of the table rose and bowed respectfully. "I arrived first," he said.
"You have the floor, then, my brother," said the president.