By and by a tall young man came in. He was clean-shaved, with a strong jaw and something of the air of a taciturn actor or of a fanatical priest: the type with heavy black eyebrows—you know. But he was very presentable indeed. He shook hands at once vigorously with each of us in turn. The young lady came up to me and murmured sweetly, “Comrade Sevrin.”

‘I had never seen him before. He had little to say to us, but sat down by the side of the girl, and they fell at once into earnest conversation. She leaned forward in her deep arm-chair, and took her nicely rounded chin in her beautiful white hand. He looked attentively into her eyes. It was the attitude of love- making, serious, intense, as if on the brink of the grave. I suppose she felt it necessary to round and complete her assumption of advanced ideas, of revolutionary lawlessness, by falling in love with an anarchist. And this one, I repeat, was extremely presentable, notwithstanding his fanatical black-eyed aspect. After a few stolen glances in their direction, I had no doubt that he was in earnest. As to the lady, her gestures were unapproachable, better than the very thing itself in the blended suggestion of dignity, sweetness, condescension, fascination, surrender, and reserve. She interpreted her conception of what that precise sort of love-making should be with consummate art. And so far, she too, no doubt, was in earnest. Gestures—but so perfect!

‘After I had been left alone with our Lady Patroness I informed her guardedly of the object of my visit. I hinted at our suspicions. I wanted to hear what she would have to say, and half expected some perhaps unconscious revelation. All she said was, “That’s serious,” looking delightfully concerned and grave. But there was a sparkle in her eyes which meant plainly, “How exciting!” After all, she knew little of anything except of words. Still, she undertook to put me in communication with Horne, who was not easy to find except in Hermione Street, where I did not wish to show myself just then.

‘I met Horne. This was another kind of a fanatic altogether. I exposed to him the conclusion we in Brussels had arrived at, and pointed out to him the significant series of failures. To this he answered with exaltation:

‘ “I have something in hand that shall not fail to strike terror into the heart of these gorged brutes.”

‘And then I learned that by excavating in one of the cellars of the house he and some companions had made their way into the vaults under the great public building I have mentioned before. The blowing up of a whole wing was a certainty as soon as the materials were ready.

‘I was not so appalled at the stupidity of that move as I might have been had not the usefulness of our centre in Hermione Street become already very problematical. In fact, in my opinion it was much more of a police trap by now than anything else.

‘What was necessary now was to discover what, or rather who, was wrong, and I managed at last to get that idea into Horne’s head. He glared, perplexed, his nostrils working as if he were sniffing treachery in the air.

‘And here comes a piece of work that will no doubt strike you as a sort of theatrical expedient. And yet what else could have been done? I wished to find out the untrustworthy member of the group. But no suspicion could be fastened on one more than another. To set a watch upon them all was not very practicable. Besides, that proceeding often fails. In any case, it takes time, and the danger was pressing. I felt certain that the premises in Hermione Street would be ultimately raided, though the police had evidently such confidence in the informer that the house, for the time being, was not even watched. Horne was positive about that point. Under the circumstances it was a bad symptom. Something had to be done quickly.

‘I decided to organize a raid myself upon the group. Do you understand? A raid of other trusty comrades personating the police. A conspiracy within a conspiracy. You see the object of it, of course. When apparently about to be arrested I hoped the informer would betray himself in some way or other; either by some unguarded act or simply by his unconcerned demeanour, for instance. Of course there was the risk of complete failure and the no lesser risk of some fatal accident in the course of resistance,