‘Oblivious of everything and everybody, Sevrin strode towards him and seized the lapels of his coat. Under his thin bluish cheeks one could see his jaws working with passion.

‘ “You have men posted outside. Get the lady taken home at once. Do you hear? Now. Before you try to get hold of the man up-stairs.”

‘ “Oh! There is a man up-stairs,” scoffed the other, openly. “Well, he shall be brought down in time to see the end of this.”

‘But Sevrin, beside himself, took no heed of the tone.

‘ “Who’s the imbecile meddler who sent you blundering here? Didn’t you understand your instructions? Don’t you know anything? It’s incredible. Here—”

‘He dropped the lapels of the coat he had been shaking. He plunged his hand into his breast and jerked feverishly at something under his shirt. At last he produced a small square pocket of soft leather, which must have been hanging like a scapulary from his neck by the tape, whose broken ends dangled from his fist.

‘ “Look inside,” he spluttered, flinging it in the other’s face. And instantly he turned round towards the girl. She stood just behind him, perfectly still and silent. Her set, white face gave an illusion of placidity. Only her staring eyes seemed to have grown bigger and darker.

‘He spoke to her rapidly, with nervous assurance. I heard him distinctly promise to make everything as clear as daylight presently. But that was all I caught. He stood close to her and never raised his hand, never attempted to touch her even with the tip of his little finger. And she stared at him stupidly. For a moment, however, her eyelids descended slowly, pathetically, and then, with the long black eyelashes lying on her white cheeks, she looked as if she were about to fall headlong in a swoon. But she never even swayed where she stood. He urged her loudly to follow him without losing an instant, and walked towards the door at the bottom of the cellar stairs without looking behind him. And, as a matter of fact, she did move after him a pace or two. But, of course, he was not allowed to reach the door. There were angry exclamations, the tumult of a short, fierce scuffle. Flung away violently, he came flying backwards upon her. She threw out her arms in a gesture of dismay and stepped aside, just clear of his head, which struck the ground heavily near her shoe.

‘He grunted with the shock. By the time he had picked himself up, slowly, dazedly, he was awake to the reality of things. The man into whose hands he had thrust the leather case had extracted therefrom a narrow strip of bluish paper. He held it up above his head, and, as after the scuffle an expectant uneasy stillness reigned once more, he threw it down disdainfully with the words, “I think, comrades, that this proof was hardly necessary.”

‘Quick as thought, the girl stooped after the fluttering slip. Holding it spread out in both hands, she looked at it; then, without raising her eyes, opened her fingers slowly and let it fall.

‘I examined that curious document afterwards. It was signed by a very high personage, and stamped and countersigned by other high officials in various countries of Europe. In his trade—or shall I say, in his mission?—that sort of talisman might have been necessary, no doubt, for even to the police itself—all but the heads—he had been known only as Sevrin the noted anarchist.

‘He hung his head, biting his lower lip. A change had come over him, a sort of thoughtful, absorbed calmness. Nevertheless, he panted. His sides worked visibly, and his nostrils expanded and collapsed in weird contrast with his sombre aspect of a fanatical monk in a meditative attitude, but with something, too, in his face of an actor intent upon the terrible exigencies of his part. Before him Horne declaimed, haggard and bearded, like an inspired denunciatory prophet from a wilderness. Two fanatics. They