“Aye,” said old Adelbert. “Had I been wise, I would have joined a guild. Then I might have kept my place at the Opera. As it is, I stood alone, and they put me out.”
“You do not stand alone now. Stand by us, and we will support you. The Republic will not forget its friends.”
Thus heartened, old Adelbert brightened up somewhat. Why should he, an old soldier, sweat at the thought of blood? Great changes required heroic measures. It was because he was old that he feared change. He stumped through the passageway without urging, and stood erect and with shoulders squared while the bandage was removed.
He was rather longer than Olga Loschek had been in comprehending his surroundings. His old eyes at first saw little but the table and its candles in their gruesome holders. But when he saw the Committee his heart failed. Here, embodied before him, was everything he had loathed during all his upright and loyal years anarchy, murder, treason. His face worked. The cords in his neck stood out like strings drawn to the breaking-point.
The concierge was speaking. For all his boasting, he was ill at ease. His voice had lost its bravado, and had taken on a fawning note.
“This is the man of whom word was sent to the Committee,” he said. “I ventured to ask that he be allowed to come here, because he brings information of value.”
“Step forward, comrade,” said the leader. “What is your name and occupation?”
“Adelbert, Excellency. As to occupation, for years I was connected with the Opera. Twenty years, Excellency. Then I grew old, and another—” His voice broke. What with excitement and terror, he was close to tears. “Now I am reduced to selling tickets for an American contrivance, a foolish thing, but I earn my bread by it.”
He paused, but the silence continued unbroken. The battery of eyes behind the masks was turned squarely on him.
Old Adelbert fidgeted. “Before that, in years gone by, I was in the army,” he said, feeling that more was expected of him, and being at a loss. “I fought hard, and once, when I suffered the loss you perceive, the King himself came to my bed, and decorated me. Until lately, I have been loyal. Now, I am—here.” His face worked.