“Friends and brothers! I bring you three new associates! I have not sought them; they have sought me. On their own heads be their destinies! They offer their names to the Revolutionary Committee, and their services to our Cause!”
A low murmur of approbation from the company greeted this announcement. Johan Zegota advanced a little in front of all the rest.
“Every man is welcome to serve us who will serve us faithfully,” he said. “But who are these new comrades, Sergius Thord? What are they?”
“That they must declare for themselves,” said Thord, taking a chair at the head of the table which was evidently his accustomed place—“Put them through their examination!”
He seated himself with the air of a king, his whole aspect betokening an authority that would not be trifled with or gainsaid.
“Gott in Himmel!”
This exclamation burst suddenly from the lips of the man called Max Graub.
“What ails you?” said Thord, turning full upon him his glittering eyes that flashed ferocity from under their shaggy brows—“Are you afraid?”
“Afraid? Not I!” protested Graub—“But, gentlemen, think a moment! You speak of putting us—myself and my friends—through an examination! Why should you examine us? We are three poor adventurers—what can we have to tell?”
“Much, I should imagine!” retorted Zegota—“Adventurers are not such without adventures! Your white hairs testify to some experience of life.”