But the matter had to be thoroughly considered by the assembly, and there was a careful discussion of it for half an hour, while Dick sat silent before the table, on which, in the meantime, candles had been placed and lighted. During this talk, he began to realize all that he was taking on himself in joining what was neither more nor less than a secret society, whose present purpose was assassination. But a man with his life in his hand must seize the first means of gaining time that offers, and face each consequence when it occurs. The chances were in favor of his having nothing to do with the sanguinary affair to be immediately attempted; and he could probably give the Brotherhood the slip in the near future. In any case, it was impossible to prevent the attempt now under way, and the question as to whether he should eventually expose that attempt, was a river not to be crossed till he should come to it. Perhaps, after all, this Necker, whose name he knew only as that of Councillor of Finance and General Director of the Royal Treasury, was a rascal who merited death, as many public officials did; certainly the Brotherhood showed a humane disposition in considering an alternative by which Dick's life might be saved. Perhaps the removal of their chosen victim, even by death, would benefit humanity,—so little was Dick acquainted with matters of state.
Well, it was decided to admit him. He had to repeat a long oath after the leader, kiss one of the swords, which, having been blessed, served in place of a Bible, and sign his name at the foot of a list that the secretary produced from a leather bag, which that officer carried to and from the meetings, and which contained materials for what few records the society required.
"And now," said the leader, "it is growing late. The carriage will be at the gate at any moment. Let us draw for the honor that God holds ready for one of us."
He held the bag in his left hand, and thrust his right hand inside; when he withdrew the latter, he kept it closed, and passed silently, with the bag, from man to man; knowing, without reference to the list, in what order their names stood. Before this, he had put an additional white bean into the bag, having been provided with several surplus ones. Each man kept his hand closed on withdrawing it. When the bag reached Dick, there was only one bean left. He did as the others had done. Then, not a word being said, the leader laid aside the bag, and all pressed close to the table, which they quite surrounded. Every right hand was laid out, palm down, on the bare oak surface. The leader was the first to disclose.
"A black bean!" he cried. "That is something, at least! Who has the red one?"
Every eye turned with intense eagerness, from the bean immediately before it, to the beans right and left,—every eye but Dick Wetheral's, that is to say, for his remained fastened, with a kind of mild astonishment, on the palm of his hand, whereon lay a bean that was red.
"Come, brother," the leader was saying, when Dick at last looked up. "Choose a sword. I hear the carriage at the gate."
Before he had recovered from his bewilderment, Dick was passing through the rain, towards the gate, clasping one of the swords tightly beneath his coat. At his right arm was the leader, who carried one of the other two swords, as well as a pistol in each outer pocket; at the left arm was a second man, similarly armed. Two other men mounted the coachman's place.
"Which way, monsieur?" said one of these latter, in joking imitation of a driver, when Dick and his guards were seated in the dark carriage.
"The road to Paris," said the leader, and drew the coach door after him with a bang.