"But there are only three of us here," said one of the disguised men.
"No," replied the president, "there are four; I am the fourth. You must not prevent me from participating in a deed requiring intrepid courage, and which cannot but involve incalculable dangers. I insist on taking part in it."
"But the league stands in need of your services. What would become of us if you should draw the lot, and, in carrying out the plan, fail and be arrested?"
"In that case, brethren, you will announce on the day of the next meeting, when the chair remains unoccupied, that the president has died in the cause, and you will elect another chief. But, a truce to further objections! Let us draw lots. Here are two white and two black balls which I put into the urn. Those who draw the black balls will leave together, and jointly concert a plan for the death of the tyrant. The blow must be struck in the course of a week, while he is still in this city."
"It must be," echoed the three, in solemn tones.
"But let us swear not to attempt any life but his—that no innocent blood be shed—that the dagger or the pistol be aimed at him alone. Let us swear not to undertake any thing that might endanger others!"
"We do so swear, for to destroy any but the tyrant would be murder. Now let us extinguish all the lights save one, and simultaneously draw a ball from the urn."
"Lift up your hands and let us see the balls!" said the president. There was a white ball in his own hand. "It was not God's will. He did not choose me," he said, with a sigh.
"He has chosen us," said the two who held black balls. They grasped each other's hands, and their eyes seemed to read each other's thoughts. He who had drawn the other white ball inclined his head and left the room.
"We go together; our ways do not separate," said the two who had drawn the black balls, and walked arm in arm toward the door.