"By Heaven," said the second man, gaily, observing the other in a ray of light that entered through a lofty crack in the tower, "you are conspiring in character! A scarlet cloak certainly fits the rôle." The speaker was a young Frenchman, the Viscount de Rougepont, who jested at all times and places.
"You make a light matter of high treason, Viscount," replied Mesmer, in a somewhat husky voice.
Before the Frenchman could answer, another man was heard advancing over the fallen brown leaves outside the tower. The manner of his admission was the same as that of the Frenchman's. Within a short time, more than a score of men had thus assembled. Two remained on guard immediately inside the doorway. The others, soon accustomed to the half darkness of their meeting-place, proceeded with their business. The secretary, who was none other than Richard Wetheral, called a roll. There was a response to every name but that of Von Romberg.
"He has been detained by the sudden illness of a dear friend, but hopes to join us later in the afternoon. He has authorized me to represent him," said a young gentleman,—Gerard de St. Valier.
"You did not succeed in winning the Baron von Sungen," said Mesmer, addressing Wetheral, in a slightly petulant way.
"He repulsed my very first overtures," said Dick, in explanation, "and bade me, for my own sake, go no farther into the subject with him. I saw that nothing could move his loyalty. It was prudent to stop where I did."
"What a pity!" said Mesmer, with some vexation.
"I thought there was no love between you and Von Sungen," put in De Rougepont.
"What of that?" said Mesmer, quickly. "He could have brought over the entire horse-guards to us. That is why I say, what a pity he is not with us!"
"He is playing hard for the Landgrave's favor," said the Frenchman. "He is dying of love for the Baroness von Lüderwaldt, and wants to marry her. So does old Rothenstein, the sweet and chaste minister of police. The Landgrave has the disposal of her hand, and is still undecided whether to make Von Sungen happy or cause old Rothenstein to snivel with ecstasy. Hence Von Sungen's unexampled devotion to his sovereign."