‘And how did the orders come?’ Le Gautier asked.
‘The old mysterious way,’ was the impatient reply; ‘secrecy and darkness; no trust in any one, however worthy he may have proved—the old suspicion, which drags us down, and holds our hands even in the act of striking. I found them on my table when I got in. You and I are to get to London, and there await orders. Our instructions bear the crossed daggers, indicating extreme secrecy and a mission of great danger.’
In spite of his sang froid, Le Gautier could not repress a slight start; and a smile of covert sarcasm, pity almost, rose to his lips as he looked in his companion’s eager, enthusiastic face; the same sort of pity the sharper feels for his unconscious victim when he has him within the toils. Not that the younger man noticed this; his eyes were full of some far-away project, something noble, by their expression.
‘The old story of the monkey and the chestnuts,’ Le Gautier observed with his most sinister smile; ‘the puppets run the risk, and the Head Centres get the glory. If we fall, it is in freedom’s name. That is sufficient epitaph for us poor, silly, fluttering moths.’
‘But the glory of it!’ Salvarini cried—‘think of that!’
‘The glory, yes—the glory of a felon’s grave! The glory lies in the uncertainty. What do we gain, you and I, by the removal of crowned heads? When the last tyrant fell at our leader’s dictate, how much did we benefit by the blow? He was not a bad man; for a king, he was just.’
‘You are in a bitter mood, to-night, Hector,’ Salvarini answered. ‘What will you say when I tell you the appointment has come with your nomination as a Deputy, with a seat at the Council of the Crimson Nine?’
‘My appointment at last! You are joking, Luigi. Surely they had need of better men than I. What of La Fontaine?’
‘Dead,’ Salvarini responded grimly. ‘Treachery was suspected, and it was necessary to remove him.—But what I tell you is true; you are ordered to be present at the next Council at Warsaw, two months hence, when you will give up your badge as an Avenger, and take the premier order.’
‘And I have staked it to-night on the hazard of a die!’ Le Gautier exclaimed, pallid even beyond his usual deathly whiteness. ‘Fool, fool that I was! How can I prevent it becoming known? I am undone!’