seemed an interminable period, he halted before a heavy, iron
bound door ; set in the solid piling of the wharf and gave three
low yet perfectly distinct knocks. At this the door was thrown
slightly ajar from within and a thin, bony hand reached forth and
clasped his. There was a swift, silent pressure for an instant, and
then the door swung back freely, disclosing an oblong patch of
light against which the form of the sentinel was, outlined for a
moment. Then the door closed, the light vanished, and all was
veiled in obscurity as before.
The room in which the newcomer now found himself was, as
nearly as could be guessed by the light of a candle which sputtered
on a broad table opposite the door, some twenty feet square by
half as ninny high. Along the walls, excepting that in which the
door was placed, were ranged several roughly fashioned benches
and seated on these were a number of silent figures. Evidently
the newcomer was their chief, for he advanced quickly and took
position behind the table. During all this time not a single sound
had been heard not a word breathed. Ninv the chief, with an
other eagle glance about him, drew himself up and spoke.
" Grigori Orlanov 1" he said.
The thin, wiry form of the doorkeeper advanced into the circle
of light cast by the taper and stood expectantly, as though wait
ing for further commands.
" How many of us are present, Grigori ?"
" Twenty, with yourself, Ivan Boscawitz."
"It is well," said Ivan. " A score of loyal hearts and minds
assembled in the name of justice, liberty and equality. Let your
hands and arms be but as steady and willing as your hearts and
the rule of tyranny will be but a matter of time. Peter Nadavitch,
whom have you to set before the council to-night ?"
Another black-robed figure came forward and preised a narrow
ribbon of paper into the chief's hand. Ivan glanced at the name
written thereon. It was that of Leopold Alexowitch. He started
with a gesture of surprise which was not altogether unnoticed by
his associates. And well might he be astonished. For Leopold
Alexowitch stood next to the Chief of Police himself in power,
and it had been through his cunning and courage that half a score
of murderous plots, involving national disaster, had been thwarted
and their makers brought to justice. For the past decade no
name held so much of terror for the evil-doer as his. So that well
The Free Lance
[FEBRUARY,