IV

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IV

The Red Bean

The Inner Council sent out an urgent call to the men who administer the affairs of the Red Hundred.

Starque came, Fran√Іois, the Frenchman, came, Hollom, the Italian, Paul Mirtisky, George Grabe, the American, and Lauder Bartholomew, the ex-captain of Irregular Cavalry, came also. Bartholomew was the best dressed of the men who gathered about the green table in Greek Street, for he had held the KingвАЩs commission, which is of itself a sartorial education. People who met him vaguely remembered his name and frowned. They had a dim idea that there was вАЬsomething against him,вАЭ but were not quite sure what it was. It had to do with the South African War and a surrenderвБ†вАФnot an ordinary surrender, but an arrangement with the enemy on a cash basis, and the transference of stores. There was a court-martial, and a cashiering, and afterwards Bartholomew came to England and bombarded first the War Office and then the Press with a sheaf of typewritten grievances. Afterwards he went into the theatrical line of business and appeared in music-hall sketches as вАЬCaptain Lauder BartholomewвБ†вАФthe Hero of Dopfontein.вАЭ

There were other chapters which made good reading, for he figured in a divorce case, ran a society newspaper, owned a few selling platers, and achieved the distinction of appearing in the Racing Calendar in a paragraph which solemnly and officially forbade his presence on Newmarket Heath.

That he should figure on the Inner Council of the Red Hundred is remarkable only in so far as it demonstrates how much out of touch with British sentiments and conditions is the average continental politician. For BartholomewвАЩs secret application to be enrolled a member of the Red Hundred had been received with acclamation, and his promotion to the Inner Council had been rapid. Was he not an English officerвБ†вАФan aristocrat? A member of the most exclusive circle of English society? Thus argued the Red Hundred, to whom a subaltern in a scallywag corps did not differ perceptibly from a Commander of the Household Cavalry.

Bartholomew lied his way to the circle, because he found, as he had all along suspected, that there was a strong business end to terrorism. There were grants for secret service work, and with his fertile imagination it was not difficult to find excuses and reasons for approaching the financial executive of the Red Hundred at frequent intervals.

He claimed intimacy with royal personages. He not only stated as a fact that he was in their confidence, but he suggested family ties which reflected little credit upon his progenitors.

The Red Hundred was a paying speculation; membership of the Inner Council was handsomely profitable. He had drawn a bow at a venture when under distressвБ†вАФliterally it was a distress warrant issued at the instance of a importunate landlordвБ†вАФhe had indited a letter to a revolutionary offering to act as London agent for an organization which was then known as The Friends of the People, but which has since been absorbed into the body corporate of the Red Hundred. It is necessary to deal fully with the antecedents of this man because he played a part in the events that are chronicled in the Council of Justice that had effects further reaching than Bartholomew, the mercenary of anarchism, could in his wildest moments have imagined.

He was one of the seven that gathered in the dingy drawing-room of a Greek Street boardinghouse, and it was worthy of note that five of his fellows greeted him with a deference amounting to humility. The exception was Starque, who, arriving late, found an admiring circle hanging upon the words of this young man with the shifty eyes, and he frowned his displeasure.

Bartholomew looked up as Starque entered and nodded carelessly.

Starque took his place at the head of the table, and motioned impatiently to the others to be seated. One, whose duty it was, rose from his chair and locked the door. The windows were shuttered, but he inspected the fastenings; then, taking from his pocket two packs of cards, he scattered them in a confused heap upon the table. Every man produced a handful of money and placed it before him.

Starque was an ingenious man and had learnt many things in Russia. Men who gather round a green baize-covered table with locked doors are apt to be dealt with summarily if no adequate excuse for their presence is evident, and it is more satisfactory to be fined a hundred roubles for gambling than to be dragged off at a momentвАЩs notice to an indefinite period of labour in the mines on suspicion of being concerned in a revolutionary plot.

Starque now initiated the business of the evening. If the truth be told, there was little in the earlier proceedings that differed from the procedure of the typical committee.

There were monies to be voted. Bartholomew needed supplies for a trip to Paris, where, as the guest of an Illustrious Personage, he hoped to secure information of vital importance to the Hundred.

вАЬThis is the fourth vote in two months, comrade,вАЭ said Starque testily, вАЬlast time it was for information from your Foreign Office, which proved to be inaccurate.вАЭ

Bartholomew shrugged his shoulders with an assumption of carelessness.

вАЬIf you doubt the wisdom of voting the money, let it pass,вАЭ he said; вАЬmy men fly highвБ†вАФI am not bribing policemen or sous-officiers of diplomacy.вАЭ

вАЬIt is not a question of money,вАЭ said Starque sullenly, вАЬit is a question of results. Money we have in plenty, but the success of our glorious demonstration depends upon the reliability of our information.вАЭ

The vote was passed, and with its passing came a grim element into the council.

Starque leant forward and lowered his voice.

вАЬThere are matters that need your immediate attention,вАЭ he said. He took a paper from his pocket, and smoothed it open in front of him. вАЬWe have been so long inactive that the tyrants to whom the name of Red Hundred is full of terror, have come to regard themselves as immune from danger. Yet,вАЭ his voice sank lower, вАЬyet we are on the eve of the greatest of our achievements, when the oppressors of the people shall be moved at one blow! And we will strike a blow at kingship as shall be remembered in the history of the world, aye, when the victories of Caesar and Alexander are forgotten, and when the scenes of our acts are overlaid with the dust and debris of a thousand years. But that great day is not yetвБ†вАФfirst we must remove the lesser men that the blow may fall surer; first the servant, then the master.вАЭ He stabbed the list before him with a thick forefinger.

вАЬFritz von Hedlitz,вАЭ he read, вАЬChancellor to the Duchy of Hamburg-Altoona.вАЭ

He looked round the board and smiled.

вАЬA man of some initiative, comradesвБ†вАФhe foiled our attempt on his master with some cunningвБ†вАФdo I interpret your desire when I sayвБ†вАФdeath?вАЭ

вАЬDeath!вАЭ

It was a low murmured chorus.

Bartholomew, renegade and adventurer, said it mechanically. It was nothing to him a brave gentleman should die for no other reason than that he had served his master faithfully.

вАЬMarquis de Santo-Strato, private secretary to the Prince of the Escorial,вАЭ read Starque.

вАЬDeath!вАЭ Again the murmured sentence.

One by one, Starque read the names, stopping now and again to emphasize some enormity of the man under review.

вАЬHere is Hendrik Houssmann,вАЭ he said, tapping the paper, вАЬof the Berlin Secret Police: an interfering man and a dangerous one. He has already secured the arrest and punishment of one of our comrades.вАЭ

вАЬDeath,вАЭ murmured the council mechanically.

The list took half an hour to dispose of.

вАЬThere is another matter,вАЭ said Starque.

The council moved uneasily, for that other matter was uppermost in every mind.

вАЬBy some means we have been betrayed,вАЭ the chairman went on, and his voice lacked that confidence which characterized his earlier speech; вАЬthere is an organizationвБ†вАФan organization of reactionвБ†вАФwhich has set itself to thwart us. That organization has discovered our identity.вАЭ He paused a little.

вАЬThis morning I received a letter which named me president of the Inner Council and threatened me.вАЭ Again he hesitated.

вАЬIt was signed вАШThe Four Just Men.вАЩвАКвАЭ

His statement was received in dead silenceвБ†вАФa silence that perplexed him, for his compensation for the shock he had received had been the anticipation of the sensation his announcement would make.

He was soon enlightened as to the cause of the silence.

вАЬI also have received a letter,вАЭ said Fran√Іois quietly.

вАЬAnd I.вАЭ

вАЬAnd I.вАЭ

вАЬAnd I.вАЭ

Only Bartholomew did not speak, and he felt the unspoken accusation of the others.

вАЬI have received no letter,вАЭ he said with an easy laughвБ†вАФвАЬonly these.вАЭ He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and produced two beans. There was nothing peculiar in these save one was a natural black and the other had been dyed red.

вАЬWhat do they mean?вАЭ demanded Starque suspiciously.

вАЬI have not the slightest idea,вАЭ said Bartholomew with a contemptuous smile; вАЬthey came in a little box, such as jewellery is sent in, and were unaccompanied either by letter or anything of the kind. These mysterious messages do not greatly alarm me.вАЭ

вАЬBut what does it mean?вАЭ persisted Starque, and every neck was craned toward the seeds; вАЬthey must have some significanceвБ†вАФthink.вАЭ

Bartholomew yawned.

вАЬSo far as I know, they are beyond explanation,вАЭ he said carelessly; вАЬneither red nor black beans have played any conspicuous part in my life, so far as IвБ†вАФвАЭ

He stopped short and they saw a wave of colour rush to his face, then die away, leaving it deadly pale.

вАЬWell?вАЭ demanded Starque; there was a menace in the question.

вАЬLet me see,вАЭ faltered Bartholomew, and he took up the red bean with a hand that shook.

He turned it over and over in his hand, calling up his reserve of strength.

He could not explain, that much he realized.

The explanation might have been possible had he realized earlier the purport of the message he had received, but now with six pairs of suspicious eyes turned upon him, and with his confusion duly noted, his hesitation would tell against him.

He had to invent a story that would pass muster.

вАЬYears ago,вАЭ he began, holding his voice steady, вАЬI was a member of such an organization as this: andвБ†вАФand there was a traitor.вАЭ The story was plain to him now, and he recovered his balance. вАЬThe traitor was discovered and we balloted for his life. There was an equal number for death and immunity, and I as president had to give the casting vote. A red bean was for life and a black for deathвБ†вАФand I cast my vote for the manвАЩs death.вАЭ

He saw the impression his invention had created and elaborated the story. Starque, holding the red bean in his hand, examined it carefully.

вАЬI have reason to think that by my action I made many enemies, one of whom probably sent this reminder.вАЭ He breathed an inward sigh of relief as he saw the clouds of doubt lifting from the faces about him. ThenвБ†вАФ

вАЬAnd the ¬£1,000?вАЭ asked Starque quietly.

Nobody saw Bartholomew bite his lip, because his hand was caressing his soft black moustache. What they all observed was the well simulated surprise expressed in the lift of his eyebrows.

вАЬThe thousand pounds?вАЭ he said puzzled, then he laughed. вАЬOh, I see you, too, have heard the storyвБ†вАФwe found the traitor had accepted that sum to betray usвБ†вАФand this we confiscated for the benefit of the SocietyвБ†вАФand rightly so,вАЭ he added, indignantly.

The murmur of approbation relieved him of any fear as to the result of his explanation.

Even Starque smiled.

вАЬI did not know the story,вАЭ he said, вАЬbut I did see the вАШ¬£1,000вАЩ which had been scratched on the side of the red bean; but this brings us no nearer to the solution of the mystery. Who has betrayed us to the Four Just Men?вАЭ

There came, as he spoke, a gentle tapping on the door of the room. Fran√Іois, who sat at the presidentвАЩs right hand, rose stealthily and tiptoed to the door.

вАЬWho is there?вАЭ he asked in a low voice.

Somebody spoke in German, and the voice carried so that every man knew the speaker.

вАЬThe Woman of Gratz,вАЭ said Bartholomew, and in his eagerness he rose to his feet.

If one sought for the cause of friction between Starque and the ex-captain of Irregular Cavalry, here was the end of the search. The flame that came to the eyes of these two men as she entered the room told the story.

Starque, heavily made, animal man to his fingertips, rose to greet her, his face aglow.

вАЬMadonna,вАЭ he murmured, and kissed her hand.

She was dressed well enough, with a rich sable coat that fitted tightly to her sinuous figure, and a fur toque upon her beautiful head.

She held a gloved hand toward Bartholomew and smiled.

Bartholomew, like his rival, had a way with women; but it was a gentle way, overladened with Western conventions and hedged about with set proprieties. That he was a contemptible villain according to our conceptions is true, but he had received a rudimentary training in the world of gentlemen. He had moved amongst men who took their hats off to their women-kind, and who controlled their actions by a nebulous code. Yet he behaved with greater extravagance than did Starque, for he held her hand in his, looking into her eyes, whilst Starque fidgeted impatiently.

вАЬComrade,вАЭ at last he said testily, вАЬwe will postpone our talk with our little Maria. It would be bad for her to think that she is holding us from our workвБ†вАФand there are the FourвБ†вАФвАЭ

He saw her shiver.

вАЬThe Four?вАЭ she repeated. вАЬThen they have written to you, also?вАЭ

Starque brought his fist with a crash down on the table.

вАЬYouвБ†вАФyou! They have dared threaten you? By HeavenвБ†вАФвАЭ

вАЬYes,вАЭ she went on, and it seemed that her rich sweet voice grew a little husky; вАЬthey have threatenedвБ†вАФme.вАЭ

She loosened the furs at her throat as though the room had suddenly become hot and the atmosphere unbreathable.

The torrent of words that came tumbling to the lips of Starque was arrested by the look in her face.

вАЬIt isnвАЩt death that I fear,вАЭ she went on slowly; вАЬindeed, I scarcely know what I fear.вАЭ

Bartholomew, superficial and untouched by the tragic mystery of her voice, broke in upon their silence. For silenced they were by the girlвАЩs distress.

вАЬWith such men as we about, why need you notice the theatrical play of these Four Just Men?вАЭ he asked, with a laugh; then he remembered the two little beans and became suddenly silent with the rest.

So complete and inexplicable was the chill that had come to them with the pronouncement of the name of their enemy, and so absolutely did the spectacle of the Woman of Gratz on the verge of tears move them, that they heard then what none had heard beforeвБ†вАФthe ticking of the clock.

It was the habit of many years that carried BartholomewвАЩs hand to his pocket, mechanically he drew out his watch, and automatically he cast his eyes about the room for the clock wherewith to check the time.

It was one of those incongruous pieces of commonplace that intrude upon tragedy, but it loosened the tongues of the council, and they all spoke together.

It was Starque who gathered the girlвАЩs trembling hands between his plump palms.

вАЬMaria, Maria,вАЭ he chided softly, вАЬthis is folly. What! the Woman of Gratz who defied all RussiaвБ†вАФwho stood before Mirtowsky and bade him defianceвБ†вАФwhat is it?вАЭ

The last words were sharp and angry and were directed to Bartholomew.

For the second time that night the EnglishmanвАЩs face was white, and he stood clutching the edge of the table with staring eyes and with his lower jaw drooping.

вАЬGod, man!вАЭ cried Starque, seizing him by the arm, вАЬwhat is itвБ†вАФspeakвБ†вАФyou are frightening her!вАЭ

вАЬThe clock!вАЭ gasped Bartholomew in a hollow voice, вАЬwhereвБ†вАФwhere is the clock?вАЭ

His staring eyes wandered helplessly from side to side.

вАЬListen,вАЭ he whispered, and they held their breath.

Very plainly indeed did they hear the вАЬtickвБ†вАФtickвБ†вАФtick.вАЭ

вАЬIt is under the table,вАЭ muttered Fran√Іois.

Starque seized the cloth and lifted it. Underneath, in the shadow, he saw the black box and heard the ominous whir of clockwork.

вАЬOut!вАЭ he roared and sprang to the door.

It was locked and from the outside.

Again and again he flung his huge bulk against the door, but the men who pressed round him, whimpering and slobbering in their pitiable fright, crowded about him and gave him no room.

With his strong arms he threw them aside left and right; then leapt at the door, bringing all his weight and strength to bear, and the door crashed open.

Alone of the party the Woman of Gratz preserved her calm. She stood by the table, her foot almost touching the accursed machine, and she felt the faint vibrations of its working. Then Starque caught her up in his arms and through the narrow passage he half led, half carried her, till they reached the street in safety.

The passing pedestrians saw the dishevelled group, and, scenting trouble, gathered about them.

вАЬWhat was it? What was it?вАЭ whispered Fran√Іois, but Starque pushed him aside with a snarl.

A taxi was passing and he called it, and lifting the girl inside, he shouted directions and sprang in after her.

As the taxi whirled away, the bewildered Council looked from one to the other.

They had left the door of the house wide open and in the hall a flickering gas-jet gyrated wildly.

вАЬGet away from here,вАЭ said Bartholomew beneath his breath.

вАЬBut the papersвБ†вАФthe records,вАЭ said the other wringing his hands.

Bartholomew thought quickly.

The records were such as could not be left lying about with impunity. For all he knew these madmen had implicated him in their infernal writings. He was not without courage, but it needed all he possessed to reenter the room where a little machine in a black box ticked mysteriously.

вАЬWhere are they?вАЭ he demanded.

вАЬOn the table,вАЭ almost whispered the other. вАЬMon Dieu! what disaster!вАЭ The Englishman made up his mind.

He sprang up the three steps into the hall. Two paces brought him to the door, another stride to the table. He heard the вАЬtickвАЭ of the machine, he gave one glance to the table and another to the floor, and was out again in the street before he had taken two long breaths.

Fran√Іois stood waiting, the rest of the men had disappeared.

вАЬThe papers! the papers!вАЭ cried the Frenchman.

вАЬGone!вАЭ replied Bartholomew between his teeth.

Less than a hundred yards away another conference was being held.

вАЬManfred,вАЭ said Poiccart suddenlyвБ†вАФthere had been a lull in the talkвБ†вАФвАЬshall we need our friend?вАЭ

Manfred smiled.

вАЬMeaning the admirable Mr.¬†Jessen?вАЭ

Poiccart nodded.

вАЬI think so,вАЭ said Manfred quietly; вАЬI am not so sure that the cheap alarm-clock we put in the biscuit box will be a sufficient warning to the Inner CouncilвБ†вАФhere is Leon.вАЭ

Gonsalez walked into the room and removed his overcoat deliberately.

Then they saw that the sleeve of his dress coat was torn, and Manfred remarked the stained handkerchief that was lightly bound round one hand.

вАЬGlass,вАЭ explained Gonsalez laconically. вАЬI had to scale a wall.вАЭ

вАЬWell?вАЭ asked Manfred.

вАЬVery well,вАЭ replied the other; вАЬthey bolted like sheep, and I had nothing to do but to walk in and carry away the extremely interesting record of sentences they have passed.вАЭ

вАЬWhat of Bartholomew?вАЭ

Gonsalez was mildly amused.

вАЬHe was less panicky than the restвБ†вАФhe came back to look for the papers.вАЭ

вАЬWill heвБ†вАФ?вАЭ

вАЬI think so,вАЭ said Leon. вАЬI noticed he left the black bean behind him in his flightвБ†вАФso I presume we shall see the red.вАЭ

вАЬIt will simplify matters,вАЭ said Manfred gravely.