CHAPTER IV
"These were things she came to know, and to take their measure,
When the play was played out so for one man's pleasure."
SWINBURNE.
A few days later, Arithelli was duly initiated, and given the badge of the Cause, a massive buckle with a woman's figure, and on either side the words Honneur et Patrie. At the suggestion of the leader Emile had been made responsible for her behaviour. If she betrayed them in any way his life was to pay forfeit. There was a fellow conspirator working with her at the Hippodrome, a young Austrian of high rank named Vardri. His father had turned him out of doors, penniless, because of his political views; and he was now, half-starved, consumptive and reckless, employed in harnessing the horses and attending to the stables. There were two men under thirty, but the majority were middle-aged. They all seemed to Arithelli to have the same wild, restless eyes. They called her "Camarade," and "Amigo," and treated her not unkindly, but with an utter indifference to her sex. All their sayings showed the most absolute disregard for human life.
"If a vase is cracked, break it. If your glove is worn out, throw it away."
If they heard that some member of the band had found his way to the fortress of Montjuich there was callous laughter and a speculation as to whose turn it would be next.
Their meetings were held in divers places. Sometimes they would engage a room at the Hotel Catalonia and hold what were supposed to be classes for astronomy. Sobrenski was the lecturer, the rest posing as students. If anyone came in unexpectedly it all looked beautifully innocent—the big telescope by the open window, the books and papers and charts, and Arithelli at the desk at the end of the room taking shorthand notes of the lecture.
There were seldom more than three or four rendezvous held in the same place, and more than once there were alarms and rumours of a visit from the police.
As the days wore on Emile found new reason to congratulate himself upon his discovery of "Fatalité," as he had nicknamed the girl. She had shown herself possessed of a charming temper, a fine intelligence, and a most complete understanding of the law of obedience.
She made no comments on anything she was asked to do, but delivered messages and ran errands after the manner of a machine in good working order. Even Sobrenski, who hated all women, was obliged to admit her usefulness.
She was on pleasant terms with everybody down to the strappers,—the men who harnessed the Hippodrome horses,—who adored her. Even the cynical Manager was impressed by her pluck and skill, though he considered it his privilege to regale her with comments on her personal peculiarities.