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Authors: Alexander Wilson

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‘So,’ he observed, speaking in German which apparently was a language all his colleagues understood, and in a low, gloating voice that was even more jarring to the senses than his previous sharp utterance, ‘you are the man I have wished to meet for several years. You are Sir Leonard Wallace!’

‘Do you think,’ returned Sir Leonard calmly, in the same tongue, ‘that there is only one man in this world with an artificial left arm?’

‘Do you deny you are Wallace?’

The Englishman shrugged his shoulders.

‘What if I am?’ he asked.

‘Only this, Sir Leonard Wallace, that to see you die will be the most enjoyable experience of my life. I am pledged to the extermination of royalty, but it will be far greater pleasure to exterminate you.’

‘You do not seem to like me,’ murmured Sir Leonard, casually.

‘Like you!’ came from the other with vehemence. ‘There is hardly a man in Russia, or a woman either, who would not delight in your death. You have, time after time, interfered in her plans, upset her schemes, ruined designs that would have altered the map of the world. What you and these others know about the society of which I am president, I have yet to discover. I also will know how you found out anything about us. But now that you are on the verge of death, I will tell you this. This society is pledged to destroy completely and for ever all those who call themselves royal or have any pretence of royalty. Branches have been formed in many parts of the world, but the central committee – the Council of Ten – before which you now stand has, at present, its headquarters here––’

‘And its funk-hole in Constantinople,’ put in Sir Leonard calmly.

There came gasps of dismayed surprise from several of the anarchists standing behind the table. Ulyanov’s eyelids were raised slightly, and Wallace caught a glimpse of a pair of colourless, merciless eyes that seemed entirely alien to a human being.

‘You appear to possess more information than I conceived,’ rasped Ulyanov. ‘It will be a delight, later on, to draw it from you and from your friends item by item, bit by bit. At present I just satisfy myself by telling you that, in endeavouring to dig into the secrets of what you thought was just an anarchist organisation, you have fallen at last into the hands of a far greater power. When death is approaching and your agony is compelling you to weep and pray for it to come quickly, your torture will be increased by the bitter knowledge that that power at last encompassed your ruin. My pleasure in your dissolution will be infinitely sweetened by the reflection that mine are the honour and privilege to act as its agent, mine the honour and privilege to avenge all the indignities you have put upon my country.’

‘I have met some pretty horrible specimens of humanity during my career,’ observed Sir Leonard quietly, ‘but I doubt if I have ever come across one who was quite such a monstrosity as well as a monster. Gentlemen,’ he added, looking up and down the line of anarchists, ‘I congratulate you on achieving the seemingly impossible. You must have gone to hell itself and dug from the very depths this freak you have elected as your leader.’

Ulyanov again burst into one of his appalling fits of rage, but it was suddenly ended by a harsh, cackling chuckle.

‘I will be the last to laugh,’ he snarled viciously. ‘For the insult you will but suffer the more, Sir Leonard Wallace.’ He turned over the articles on the table with his claw-like fingers. ‘Nothing of interest here,’ he muttered, ‘but, of course, there would not be.’
He raised his eyes to Bresov. ‘Take them all below to the cellar, and guard them as you would guard your own life, my Bresov. If they attempt to escape or do not conduct themselves in a submissive manner, you have my permission to teach them a lesson. Be careful, however, that in your enthusiasm for the cause you do not kill any of them.’ He turned his gaze on Sir Leonard. ‘Farewell for the present, Mr Interfering Englishman, who will interfere no more; it would be advisable if you and your friends spent your last few hours in making up your minds to supply the Council with the information it needs.’

‘I don’t think you will need much information where you will shortly be going,’ returned Wallace. ‘You will obtain your knowledge first hand – not from the press, so to speak. Your relative, Satan, will see to that.’

Three men took rough hold of him; hustled him after Miles, who was already being led away. Carter’s hands were tightly tied behind his back, and Bresov, with the assistance of another man, was about to conduct him out of the room, when he nodded towards the wounded man who was writhing on the floor in agony, pitiful groans every now and then breaking between his lips from between his ashen lips.

‘Aren’t you going to do something for that poor fellow?’ he asked the committee. ‘Surely there is enough humanity in some of you to influence you to attend to one of your own men? Not a soul has taken the slightest notice of him since he was shot.’

‘Oh, ho!’ sneered Ulyanov. ‘Comrade Carter tries to kill a man; then is sorry because he is in pain. Oh, what a tender heart!’ His voice changed to its rasping, grating quality. ‘You can leave us to attend to our own affairs, Herr Carter. We do not need your assistance or your advice. Go!’

Carter was pushed unceremoniously from the room. Wallace and Miles – the handkerchief had been removed from the latter’s mouth – were awaiting him with their escort in the corridor outside. The three of them were marched down the stairs across the hall below and along another corridor. Presently they came to a great oak door which groaned ponderously when pulled open by Bresov. Beyond it was a flight of stone steps; then a short passage, terminating in another powerful door. This also was opened. Sir Leonard had barely time to glimpse dimly more stone steps when he was violently pushed from behind. Unable to save himself he fell headlong down, coming to rest at the bottom bruised and badly shaken. Miles and Carter received the same treatment, crashing down on top of him, and knocking all the breath out of his body. Brutal laughter reached their ears from above; then they heard the door slam, the key being turned in the lock, the sound of rusty bolts being driven into their sockets. The American and Carter rolled themselves weakly off the body of Sir Leonard. It was as black as pitch down there and, their hands being tied behind their back, they were unable to feel round them and thus obtain some idea of their surroundings.

‘Gee! The brutes!’ muttered Miles. ‘When we get out of this, I’ll teach them to manhandle white men.’

‘When we get out!’ echoed Carter. ‘Our chances don’t look over bright.’

‘No; I guess you’re right. We certainly seem to have struck a whole heap of trouble.’ There was silence for some moments. ‘Say,’ added Miles suddenly, ‘it kinder looks like Sir Leonard’s been knocked unconscious.’

‘I’m all right,’ gasped the voice of Wallace, ‘at least I soon will be. But you two hurtling down on top of me hardly conduced to
further enjoyment of a fall down about a dozen stone steps.’ They were very contrite, and he laughed. ‘Anyone would imagine you did it on purpose, to hear you talk. I judge that we’re in a lower cellar right underground, so our chances of getting out are not too rosy.’

Miles struggled to his feet and commenced to explore, walking cautiously in order to avoid obstacles and other pitfalls. Carter followed his example after a while; then Sir Leonard painfully rose and joined in. By keeping against the wall he was able to judge fairly well the extent of the place. He rubbed against bottle rack after bottle rack, but whether they were empty or full he was unable to tell; then he encountered several large casks, after which he collided with the bare wall, and was forced to make a turn at right angles. Some yards farther on he met Miles.

‘I guess this is some cellar,’ commented the latter. ‘I imagine it extends right under the house.’

‘Probably,’ agreed Wallace. ‘There’s one comfort; we shall not suffocate. Though the air is heavy and unwholesome, there’s plenty to last the three of us for many hours. Where are you, Carter?’

‘Here, sir,’ called a voice with a note of triumph in it. ‘I’ve found a barrel with one of the hoops torn away, and there’s a beautifully jagged edge to the broken end.’

‘Attaboy!’ cried Miles. ‘That sounds like it ought to remove this darn cord from our wrists. We’re coming right along. Sing your signature tune or something, so we won’t lose the direction.’

Carter obliged by whistling and, treading cautiously, they reached him without trouble. Sitting on the ground, with his back to the barrel, he was engaged in industriously rubbing the cord binding his wrists up and down against the broken end of the hoop. The manoeuvre was not proving very successful, for the metal was loose and gave to the movement. However, when this was explained to Miles, he planted his foot on it, thus steadying it. Thereafter Carter progressed satisfactorily until he had cut through two or three strands. He had little difficulty then in removing the rest of the cord. After rubbing his wrists vigorously to restore the circulation, for they had been bound together very tightly, he set to work to release the hands of his companions. Before long they were all free. Miles massaged his own hands, while Carter performed a like service to Sir Leonard's one. They sat on the barrel and discussed the position.

‘I always had a feeling,' pronounced Wallace, ‘that Modjeska's conviction that you would be a useful man to have in the association, Carter, was a little bit suspicious. It happened too quickly. But I don't understand how he and Grote knew who you really were, and am not altogether clear as to the reason they brought you here.'

‘Modjeska did accept me without hesitation, sir,' replied Carter frankly, though a feeling of hot shame surged through him. ‘Grote was more cautious, but Modjeska had such amazing belief in his own infallible judgement that everything would have been all right, if I had not made an awful bloomer.'

‘You!' exclaimed Sir Leonard. ‘How?'

Carter then proceeded to tell how suspicion against him had been roused in the minds of Modjeska and Grote; their subsequent investigations and the result. He practically repeated word for word the story that Hermann Grote had told him so triumphantly in the presence of Ulyanov and the other members of the Council of Ten. Bitterness at the revelation of the consequences of his one little slip had burnt the words into his brain as though they had been composed of letters of fire. His companions listened quietly but with deep sympathy. They instinctively knew what he was feeling. At the conclusion Sir Leonard's hand sought for and found his shoulder to which he imparted a friendly, reassuring little squeeze.

‘Bad luck, old chap,' he observed. ‘You have done brilliantly all through and, if your one mistake has had undeserved consequences, it can't be helped. None of us is infallible you know. We have a sporting chance of winning through yet.'

‘What do you mean, sir?' asked Carter eagerly.

‘Although I thought your part in the affair might come unstuck, I must confess that I felt pretty certain Miles and I would get through unsuspected. Nevertheless, we took precautions. Cousins,
as you know, is here. We followed the car in which you came; he followed us. After we had watched you turn into the avenue leading up to this house, we found a convenient shelter free from observation. I told him to watch and not venture into the grounds then. If we were not back in two hours he was to investigate. The two hours have long since gone by, and you can be certain he is on the job. Possibly he heard the shots, and will have been warned that something has gone wrong. If only one of us could get out or get hold of him and send him to the legation with your story we'd have a force along here. Miles had an interview with his minister and I saw Sir Richard Lindsay. They are aware of everything that has transpired up to the date of your arrival in Vienna. Directly they are in possession of the necessary evidence concerning the existence of the anarchist headquarters in Vienna they will go to the Minister of the Interior and put the facts before him.'

Carter began to feel renewed hope.

‘God!' he muttered fervently. ‘I hope Jerry escapes capture. I don't think they are likely to suspect that there are any more of us about, but they've got the wind up badly. Their anxiety concerns how much is known in England about them and their society.'

‘Yes; I guess that raid on the house in Shirland Road,' put in Miles, ‘and the death of every darn one of their men, was a nasty blow.'

‘And they mean to torture our information out of us,' observed Sir Leonard grimly; ‘if they can. They are fairly certain, I presume, that we are the only people who know where their headquarters are, and their future actions will depend upon what they can squeeze out of us.'

Carter told them of Modjeska's attempt to hypnotise him into divulging the required information, and the manner in which he
had subsequently shot the Pole and, for a short period, obtained the upper hand. There was silence for a considerable time after that. Sir Leonard's brain was busy scheming, while the others were also doing their utmost to think of a way out of their predicament. They had long since ascertained that there was only one exit from the cellar; that was locked, bolted and, no doubt, guarded. All hope seemed to rest on Cousins, but how would he be able to discover where they were? Even if he succeeded, thought Carter, he would then have the impossible task of opening the way to freedom in the face of a guard of at least eight men.

‘Everything depends on Cousins,' declared Wallace at last. ‘If the opportunity comes to one or all of us, we must not attempt to escape. These fellows must be exterminated completely. There is probably in this house all the evidence we require, to wipe out every branch. If we escaped, they would simply disappear with all vital documents, and set up their headquarters elsewhere. If we could get word to Cousins we could make a shift to hold out till he came back with the police. The devil is to get in touch with him.'

‘You can be pretty sure,' observed Miles, ‘that he is doing his darndest to get in touch with us right now. How do you propose we should defend this cellar, Sir Leonard? Our hands are free, but we haven't any weapons.'

‘Shall I search for something that might prove useful, sir?' asked Carter.

‘No,' decided Wallace; ‘we don't want to provide ourselves with weapons at all. We can't expect to defend this cellar; we should not have a dog's chance, nor could we have any hope of communicating with Cousins from here. When they come for us, we must go out meekly with our hands still apparently tied behind us. We shall walk with our guards until I find a likely spot; then I'll
give the word, we'll turn on them, and take up our stand. Where, of course, depends upon circumstances. Not knowing the house makes it more difficult, but it can't be helped. Get hold of weapons from the men you bowl over if possible, but don't take any more risk than necessary.'

The scheme was discussed at length, and everything considered that might make for success. At the best it would be a desperate venture; nothing but a forlorn hope, but it held out a faint hazard, and to men of their gallant stock the smallest chance was quite sufficient to fill them with a quiet optimism.

Carter wound a cord round his chief's wrists, knotting it loosely. He performed the same service for Miles; then, winding his own in a loop and knotting the ends, held it behind his back, and pushed his hands through. He had hardly concluded when they heard the sound of bolts being withdrawn from their sockets.

‘Ah!' came in a hiss from Sir Leonard. ‘Get ready!'

The door above opened; the light of a torch suddenly lit up the great cellar.

‘Where is the man Wallace?' called the voice of Bresov.

‘Impudent swine!' growled Carter.

‘I am here,' returned Sir Leonard. ‘What do you want?'

‘Come up! You are required. Only you – not the others.'

‘Gee! That's torn up our scheme,' muttered Miles in dismay.

‘They'll probably send me back,' whispered Wallace hastily. ‘If not I'll have to act for myself and trust to luck. You two do the same; cheer ho!'

‘Good luck, sir,' murmured Carter, a wish that was echoed by the American.

‘Hurry!' shouted Bresov. ‘If I have to come for you, you will be sorry.'

‘I kinder think you'd be a darn sight sorrier,' growled Miles beneath his breath.

‘I'm coming,' declared Sir Leonard.

He made his way to the steps, and ascended. As he reached the top, Bresov made a vicious grab at his arm, and pushed him among the waiting men, all of whom were armed with either revolvers or rifles. Bresov's cruel grip did not hurt the Englishman; in fact he did not feel it. The Slav had hold of the artificial arm! He quickly realised that fact himself apparently, for he let go with a muttered imprecation. Bending down he glanced at the cord round the prisoner's wrists. Wallace's lips came together in a grim line. Would the fellow notice that it was loose? A grunt of satisfaction reassured him. An order was given and he was marched away. The door was closed, again locked and bolted. Miles and Carter were left to their own reflections which, it must be admitted, were very much the reverse from pleasant.

Time passed slowly by, and they gave up talking. Each had been attempting to cheer the other, at the same time realising that he was vainly trying to deceive himself. In both their hearts was fear – not for themselves, but for the man they both admired and to whom Miles as well as Carter was devoted. Neither possessed a watch, it having been taken from him with his other possessions. The waiting, in consequence, was more agonising than it perhaps would have otherwise been. All the time their ears were keenly alert to catch any sound that might indicate that Sir Leonard was returning. Carter was miserably calculating that quite two hours must have gone by since the chief had been taken away, when, at last, came the noise of the bolts being withdrawn. Involuntary sighs of relief broke from both. In their hearts the dreadful feeling would persist that Sir Leonard had long since been murdered,
but anything was better than the awful suspense which they had undergone. Like drowning men clinging to straws they clung to the faint hope that there was possibly some other explanation of his absence; that he was still in fact alive. The door opened, a ray of light was thrown into the cellar.

‘Down you go!' ordered a voice in German, ‘and do not try any tricks, my bold bandits.'

‘Gosh!' cried Miles. ‘It's Jerry, by heck!'

He darted to the foot of the steps, followed closely by the delighted Carter.

‘“Then they for sudden joy did weep”,' quoted Cousins. ‘So you are here? Splendid! I guessed you were, when I saw this ruffianly-looking trio on guard above.' He was driving down the steps before him three men, the revolver he held in his right hand apparently being quite sufficient to cow them into subjection, though two of them carried rifles and one an automatic pistol. They could see little of him as there was no light behind him, but the torch he held in his left hand enabled him to see them. ‘Your hands are tied, so you can't relieve these gentry of their arms. Never mind.'

‘Can't we?' retorted Miles. He released his hands, and strode forward.

‘Ah!' came from Cousins approvingly. ‘“Nor did you think it folly to keep your great pretences veil'd till when they needs must show themselves”. It would be a good idea if you used the cord you have discarded to lash their wrists together.'

Miles and Carter quickly disarmed the three men, who submitted as though dazed by the turn events had taken. Their hands were then bound behind their backs, two handkerchiefs taken from them being used on the third for that purpose. Carter
and Miles, mindful of the manner in which their own wrists had been pinioned, were not too considerate.

‘Isn't Sir Leonard with you?' demanded Cousins.

‘He was taken away about two hours ago,' Miles told him. ‘I guess things look mighty bad, Jerry.'

There was a pregnant silence for two or three seconds, then:

‘You mean––?' began the little Secret Service man slowly, and stopped.

‘I reckon it looks that way.'

They heard the sharp, hissing sound as Cousins' breath was drawn in between clenched teeth.

‘Come on,' he snapped. ‘We'll find him. And if anything has happened to him, may God have mercy on the swine who did it – I shan't.'

‘It can't be done,' remarked Carter. ‘Whatever has taken place, Mr Miles and I must stay here, unless, of course you have a force with you and the place is surrounded.'

‘No; I'm alone. But I don't understand.'

‘Tommy is right,' put in Miles. ‘Sir Leonard's explicit orders were that none of us were to escape even if the opportunity came. The Council of Ten which controls the organisation is right here. If we got away, they'd flit pronto with all the evidence. Sir Leonard planned to exterminate the lot and find out the addresses of every darn branch in the world, so that the whole society could be wiped out. That depended almost entirely upon whether we were able to get in touch with you. Get me?'

‘Yes; but what about him? He might still be alive, and there might be a chance of saving him, while the longer we—'

‘I know that, Jerry. Darn it, man! Don't you think I feel mighty bad about it too? But we can't allow personal feelings
to influence us, even though it might mean— Hell! I just can't say it.'

‘You're right of course,' came from Cousins, accompanied by a sound that was unmistakably a groan. ‘What are the orders?'

‘Do you think you'll have any difficulty in getting away?'

‘It wasn't easy to get in. When I'd been on watch outside the gates for the period stipulated by the chief, and you and he had not returned, I commenced to investigate as ordered. The grounds are guarded, and the terraces round the house patrolled, and it was a devil of a job to get through. Still here I am. I came through the kitchens, and caught sight of these three beauties standing guard over a locked and bolted door. That made me feel pretty sure you were on the other side of it, for I guessed that you must have been taken, of course. Anyhow I couldn't have got by the three without being spotted, so I decided to capture them.' He spoke quite casually, as though what he had done was nothing out of the ordinary. ‘They were far too surprised to resist. I made them open the door. A little persuasion was all that was necessary. Not finding you in the upper cellar I came here.'

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