Delphi Collected Works of Marie Corelli

by Marie Corelli

  At once every man rose, — and all lifting their right hands on high repeated in steady tones the following formula after their Chief, —

  “We swear in the name of God, and by the eternal glory of Freedom! That whosoever among us this night shall draw the Red Cross Signal which destines him to take from life, a life proved unworthy, — shall be to us a sacred person, and an object of defence and continued protection! We guarantee to shield him at all times and under all circumstances; — we promise to fight for him against the utmost combined power of the law; — we are prepared to maintain an inviolate silence concerning his movements, his actions and their ultimate result, — even to the sufferance of imprisonment, punishment and death for his sake! And may the curse of the Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth be upon us and our children, and our children’s children, if we break this vow. Amen!”

  The stern and impressive intensity with which these words were spoken sent a slight tremor along even such steel-like nerves as those of Pasquin Leroy, though he repeated the formula after Sergius Thord with the attentive care of a child saying a lesson. At its conclusion, however, a sudden thought flashed through his brain which brought a wonderful smile to his lips, and a rare light in his eyes, and touching the arm of Axel Regor, he whispered.

  “Could anything be more protective to me, — as you know me, — than this Vow of Fealty? By my faith, a right loyal vow!”

  The man he so questioned looked at him doubtfully. He did not understand. He himself had repeated the vow mechanically and without thought, being occupied in serious and uncomfortable meditation as to what possible dangerous lengths the evening’s business might be carried. And, accustomed as he now was to the varying and brilliant moods of one whom he had proved to be of most varying and brilliant intelligence, his brain was not quick enough to follow the lightning-like speed of the chain of ideas, — all moving in a perfectly organised plan, — conceived by this daring, scheming and original brain, which had been so lately roused to its own powers and set in thinking, working order. He therefore merely expressed his mind’s bewilderment by a warning glance mingled with alarm, which caused Leroy to smile again, — but the scene which was being enacted, now demanded their closest attention, and they had no further opportunity of exchanging so much as a word.

  The Vow of Fealty being duly sworn, Sergius Thord stood aside, and made way for Lotys, who, rising from her seat, lifted the funeral urn from the table and held it out towards the men. She made a strange and weird picture standing thus, — her white arms gleaming like sculptured ivory against the dark bronze of the metal vase, — her gold hair touched with a blood-like hue from the reflection of the red lamp behind her, — and her face, — infinitely mournful and resigned, — wearing the expression of one who, forced to behold evil, has no active part in it. As she took up her position in the front of the platform, Thord again spoke.

  “Let each man now advance and draw his fate! Whosoever receives a blank is exempt for another year; — whosoever draws the name of a victim must be prepared to do his duty!”

  This order was at once obeyed. Each man rose separately and approaching Lotys, saluted her first, and then drew a folded paper from the vessel she held. But they moved forward reluctantly, — and most of their faces were very pale. When Pasquin Leroy’s turn came to draw, he raised his eyes to the woman’s countenance above him and marvelled at its cold fixity. She seemed scarcely to be herself, — and it was plainly evident that the part she was forced to play in the evening’s drama was a most reluctant one.

  At last all the lots were taken, and Johan Zegota lit up the gas-burners in the centre of the room. A sigh of relief came from the lips of many of the men who, on opening their papers found a blank instead of a name. But Leroy, unfolding his, sat in dumb amazement, — feeling, and not for the first time either, that surely God, or some special Providence, is always on the side of a strong man’s just aim, fulfilling it to entire accomplishment. For to him was assigned the Red Cross, marked with the name of ‘The King!’ The words of Sergius Thord, uttered that very night, rushed back on his mind;— “Whosoever draws the name of the King must be swift and sure in his business!”

  His heart beat high; he occupied at that moment a position no man in all the world had ever occupied before; — he was the centre of a drama such as had never before been enacted, — he had the greatest move to play on the chess-board of life that could possibly be desired; — and the greatest chance to prove himself the Man he was, that had ever been given to one of his quality. His brain whirled, — his pulses throbbed, — his eyes rested on Lotys with a passionate longing; something of the god-like as well as the heroic warmed his soul, — for Danger and Death stood as intimately close to him as Safety and Victory! What a strange, what a marvellous card he held in the game of life! — and yet one false move might mean ruin and annihilation! As in a dream he saw the members of the Committee go up, one by one, to Sergius Thord, who, as each laid their open papers before him, declared their contents. When Paul Zouche’s paper was declared he was found to have drawn Carl Pérousse, whereat he smiled grimly; and retired to his seat, walking rather unsteadily. Max Graub had drawn a blank, — so had Axel Regor, — so had Louis Valdor and many others.

  At last it came to Leroy’s turn, and as he walked up to the platform and ascended it, there was a look on his face which attracted the instant attention of all present. His eyes were singularly bright, — his lithe handsome figure seemed taller and more erect, — he bore himself with a proud, even grand air, — and Lotys, moved at last from her chill and melancholy apathy, gazed at him as he approached, with eyes in which a profound sadness was mingled with the dark tenderness of many passionate thoughts and dreams. He laid down his paper before Thord, who, taking it up read aloud:

  “Our friend and comrade, Pasquin Leroy, has received the Red Cross Signal.”

  Then pausing before uttering his next words he raised his voice a little, so that he might be heard by everyone in the room, and added slowly:

  “To Pasquin Leroy, Fate gives — the King!”

  A low murmur of deep applause ran through the room. Max Graub and Axel Regor sprang up with a kind of smothered cry, but Leroy stood immovable. Instead of returning to his seat as the others had done, he remained standing on the platform in front of the Committee table, between Lotys and Sergius Thord. A strange smile rested on his lips, — his attitude was inexplicable. Surveying all the men’s faces which were grouped before him in a kind of chiaro-oscuro, he studied them for a moment, and then turned his head towards Thord.

  “Sergius, — so far, I have served you well! Destiny has now chosen me out for even a greater service! May I speak a few words?”

  Thord assented, — but a sudden sense of inquietude stirred in him as he saw that Lotys had half risen, that her lips quivered, and that great tears stood in her eyes.

  “She grieves!” he thought, sullenly, in his strange and confused way of balancing justice and injustice— “She grieves that the worthless life of the King she saved, is now to be taken by a righteous hand!”

  Meanwhile Leroy faced the assembly.

  “Comrades!” he said; “This is the first time I have assisted in the work of your Day of Fate, — the first time I have recognised how entirely Providence moves with you and for you in the ruling of your destinies! And because it is the first time, our Chief permits me to address you with the same fraternal liberty which was allowed to me on the night I became enrolled among you, as one of you! Since then, I have done my best to serve you—” here he was interrupted by applause— “and so far as it has been humanly possible, I have endeavoured to carry out your views and desires because, — though many of them spring from pure idealism, and are, I fear, impossible of realisation in this world, — they contain the seed of much useful and necessary reform in many institutions of this country. I have — as I promised you — shaken the stronghold of Carl Pérousse;” — again the applause broke out, none the less earnest because it was restra
ined. “I have destroyed the press-power and prestige of that knavish Jew-speculator in false news, David Jost; and wherever the wishes of this Society could be fulfilled, I have honestly sought to fulfil them. On this night, of all nights in the year, I should like to feel, and to know, that you acknowledge me as your true comrade and faithful friend!”

  At this, the whole of the company gave vent to an outburst of cheering.

  “Do you doubt our love, that you ask of it? — or our gratitude that you seek to have it expressed?” said Thord, leaning forward to clasp his hand;— “Surely you know you have given new life and impetus to our work! — and that you have gained fresh triumph for our Cause!”

  Leroy smiled, — but though returning his grasp cordially, he said nothing to him in person by way of reply, evidently preferring rather to address the whole community than one, even though that one was his acknowledged Chief.

  “I thank you all!” he said in response to the acclamations around him. “I thank you for so heartily acknowledging me as your fellow-worker! I thank you for giving me your confidence and employing my services! Tonight — the most important night of my destiny — Fate has determined that I shall perform the greatest task of all you have ever allotted to me; and that with swiftness and sureness in the business I shall kill the King! He is my marked victim! I am his chosen assassin!” Here interrupting himself with a bright smile, he said: “Will someone restrain my two friends, Max Graub and Axel Regor from springing out of their seats? They are both extremely envious of the task which has been allotted to me! — both are disappointed that it did not fall to them to perform, — but I am not in the humour for arguing so nice a point of honour with them just now!”

  A laugh went round the company, and the two delinquents thus called to order, and who had really been seeking in quite a wild and aimless way, to scramble out of their seats and make for the platform, resumed their places with heads bent low, lest those around them should see the deadly pallor of their countenances. Leroy resumed.

  “I rejoice, friends and comrades, that I have been elected to the high task of removing from the Throne one who has long been unworthy of it! — one who has wasted his opportunities both in youth and middle-age, — and who, by his own fault in a great measure, has lost much of the love and confidence of his people! I am glad and proud to be the one chosen to put an end to the career of a monarch whose vices and follies — which might have suited a gambler and profligate — are entirely unbecoming to the Sovereign Ruler of a great Realm! I shall have no fear in carrying out my appointed duty to the letter! I here declare my acceptance of whatever punishment may be visited on one who removes from life a King who brings kingliness into contempt! And, — as our Chief, Sergius Thord, suggested to-night, — I shall be swift and sure in the business! — there shall be no delay!”

  Here, as he spoke he drew a pistol from his pocket and turned the muzzle towards himself, — at which unexpected action there was a hasty movement of surprise, terror and confusion among the company.

  “Gentlemen all! Friends! Brothers! — as you have been, — and are to me, — by the binding of our compact in the name of Lotys! It is the determination of destiny, — as it is your desire, — that I should kill the King! You have resolved upon it. You are sure that his death will benefit the country. You have decided not to take into consideration any of his possible good qualities, or to pity any of the probable sorrows and difficulties besetting him in the uneasy position he is compelled to occupy. You are quite certain among yourselves, that somehow or other his removal will bring about that ideal condition of society which many philosophers have written of, and which many reformers have desired, but which has till now, proved itself incapable of being realised. The King’s death, you think, will better all existing conditions, and you wish me to fulfil not only the call of destiny, but your own desire. Be it so! I am ready to obey! I will kill the King at once! — here and now! I am the King!”

  CHAPTER XXIX. — THE COMRADE OF HIS FOES

  This bold declaration, boldly spoken, had the startling effect of a sudden and sharp flash of lightning in dense darkness. Amazement and utter stupefaction held every man for the moment paralysed. Had a volcano suddenly opened beneath their feet and belched forth its floods of fire and lava, it could not have rendered them more helplessly stricken and speechless.

  “I am the King!”

  The words appeared to blaze on the air before them, — like the handwriting on the wall at Belshazzar’s feast. The King! He, — their friend, their advocate, he — Pasquin Leroy, — the most obedient, the most daring and energetic of all the workers in their Cause — he — even he — was the King! Was it, — could it be possible! Their eyes — all riveted in fearful fascination upon him as he stood before them wholly at their mercy, but cool, dauntless, and smilingly ready to die, — had the wild uncomprehending stare of delirium; — the silence in the room was intense, breathless and terrible. Suddenly, like a lion roused, Sergius Thord, with a half-savage movement, sprang forward and seized him roughly by the arm.

  “You, — you are the King?” he said; “You, — Pasquin Leroy?” and struggling for breath, his words almost choked him. “You! Enemy in the guise of friend! You have fooled us! You have deceived us — you — !”

  “Take care, Sergius!” said the monarch smiling, as he gently disengaged himself from the fierce hand that clutched him; “This pistol is loaded, — not to shoot you with! — but myself! — at your command! It would be unfortunate if it went off and killed the wrong man by accident!”

  His indomitable courage was irresistible; and Thord, relaxing his grasp, fell back in something like awe. And then the spell of horror and amazement that had struck the rest of the assemblage dumb, broke all at once into a sort of wild-beast clamour. Every man ‘rushed’ for the platform — and Max Graub and Axel Regor, taking swift and conscious possession of their true personalities as Professor von Glauben and Sir Roger de Launay, fought silently and determinedly to keep back the crowding hands that threatened instant violence to the person of their Royal master.

  A complete hubbub and confusion reigned; — cries of “Traitor!” and “Spy!” were hurled from one voice to another; but before a single member of the Committee could reach the spot where stood the undaunted Sovereign whom they had so lately idolised as their friend and helper, and whom they were now ready to tear to pieces, Lotys flung herself in front of him, while at the same moment she snatched the pistol he held from his hand, and fired it harmlessly into the air. The loud report — the flash of fire, — startled all the men, who gaped upon her, thunderstruck.

  “Through me!” she cried, her blue eyes flashing glorious menace; “Through me your shots! Through me your daggers! On me your destroying hands! Through my body alone shall you reach this King! Stand back all of you! What would you do? King or commoner, he is your comrade and associate! Sovereign or servant, he is the bravest man among you! Touch him who dare! Remember your Vow of Fealty!”

  Transfigured into an almost sublime beauty by the fervour of her emotion, she looked the supreme incarnation of inspired womanhood, and the infuriated men fell back, dismayed and completely overwhelmed by the strong conviction of her words, and the amazing situation in which they found themselves.

  It was true! — he, the King, — whom they had accepted and known as Pasquin Leroy, — was verily their own comrade! He had proved himself a thousand times their friend and helper! — they had sworn to defend him at the cost of their own lives, if need be, — to shelter and protect him in all circumstances, and to accept all the consequences of whatever danger he might run in the performance of his duty. His duty now, — according to the fatal drawing of lots, — was that he should kill the King; and he had declared himself ready to fulfil the task by killing himself! But — as he was their comrade — they were bound in honour to guard his life!

  These bewildering and maddening thoughts coursed like fire through the brain of Sergius Thord, — the while his eyes, grown suddenl
y dark and bloodshot, rested wonderingly on the tall upright figure of the monarch, standing quietly face to face with the blood-thirsty Revolutionary Committee, entirely unmoved by their fierce and lowering looks, and on Lotys, white, beautiful and breathless, kneeling at his feet! A crushing sense of impotence and failure rushed over his soul like a storm wave, — his brain grew thick with the hurrying confusion, and a great cry, like that of a wounded animal, broke from his lips.

  “My God! My God! All my life’s work lost — in a single moment!”

  The King heard. Gently, and with careful courtesy, raising Lotys from the position in which she had thrown herself to guard him from attack for the second time, he pressed her hands tenderly in his own.

  “Trust me!” he whispered; “Have no fear! Not a man among them will touch me now!”

  With a slight gesture he signed her back to the chair she had previously occupied. She sank into it, trembling from head to foot, but her eyes feverishly brilliant and watchful, were widely open and alert, ready to note the least movement or look that indicated further danger. Then the King addressed himself to Thord.

  “Sergius, I am entirely in your hands! I wait your word of command! You are armed, — all my companions here are armed also! But Lotys has deprived me of the only weapon I possessed, — though there are plenty more in the room to be had on loan. What say you? Shall I kill the King? Or will you?”

  Thord was silent. A strong shudder shook his frame. The King laid a firm hand on his shoulder.