Truxton King: A Story of Graustark

  CHAPTER V

  THE COMMITTEE OF TEN

  It has been said before that Truxton King was the unsuspecting object ofinterest to two sets of watchers. The fact that he was under thesurveillance of the government police, is not surprising when weconsider the evident thoroughness of that department; but that he shouldbe continually watched by persons of a more sinister cast suggests amystery which can be cleared up by visiting a certain underground room,scarce two blocks from the Tower of Graustark. It goes without sayingthat corporeal admittance to this room was not to be obtained easily. Infact, one must belong to a certain band of individuals; and, in order tobelong to that band, one must have taken a very solemn pledge of eternalsecrecy and a primal oath to devote his life to certain purposes, goodor evil, according to his conscience. By means of the friendly Sesamethat has opened the way for us to the gentler secrets, we are permittedto enter this forbidding apartment and listen in safety to the uglybusiness of the Committee of Ten.

  There were two ways of reaching this windowless room, with its lowceilings and dank airs. If one had the secret in his possession, hecould go down through the mysterious trap door in the workshop ofWilliam Spantz, armourer to the Crown; or he might come up through ahidden aperture in the walls of the great government sewer, which randirectly parallel with and far below the walls of the quaint oldbuilding. One could take his choice of direction in approaching thishole in the huge sewer: he could come up from the river, half a mileaway, or he could come down from the hills above if he had the courageto drop through one of the intakes.

  It is of special significance that the trap door in Spantz's workshopwas reserved for use by the armourer and his more fastidiouscomrades--of whom three were women and one an established functionary inthe Royal Household. One should not expect ladies to traverse a sewer ifoilier ways are open to them. The manner of reaching the workshop wasnot so simple, however, as you might suppose. The street door was out ofthe quest ion, with Dangloss on the watch, day and night. As much as canbe said for the rear door. It was necessary, therefore, that the favoredfew should approach the shop by extraordinary paths. For instance, twoof the women came through friendly but unknown doors in the basements ofadjoining houses, reaching the workshop by the narrow stairs leading upfrom a cobwebby wine-cellar next door. Spantz and Olga Platanova, ofcourse, were at home in the place. All of which may go to prove thatwhile ten persons comprised the committee, at least as many more of theshopkeepers in that particular neighbourhood were in sympathy with theirsecret operations.

  So cleverly were all these means of approach concealed and so stealthythe movements of the Committee, that the existence of this undergroundroom, far below the street level, was as yet unsuspected by the police.More than that, the existence of the Committee of Ten as an organisationwas unknown to the department, notwithstanding the fact that it had beenworking quietly, seriously for more than a year.

  The Committee of Ten represented the brains and the activity of a rabidcoterie in Edelweiss, among themselves styled the Party of Equals. Inplain language, they were "Reds." Less than fifty persons in Graustarkwere affiliated with this particular community of anarchists. For morethan a year they had been preparing themselves against the all-importanthour for public declaration. Their ranks had been augmented byoccasional recruits from other lands; their literature was circulatedstealthily; their operations were as secret as the grave, so far as theoutside world was concerned. And so the poison sprung up and thrivedunhindered in the room below the street, growing in virulence and powerunder the very noses of the vaunted police of Edelweiss, slowlydeveloping into a power that would some day assert itself withdiabolical fury.

  There were men and women from Axphain and Dawsbergen in this seed circlethat made Edelweiss its spreading ground. They were Reds of the mostdangerous type--silent, voiceless, crafty men and women who built wellwithout noise, and who gave out nothing to the world from which theyexpected to take so much.

  The nominal leader was William Spantz, he who had a son in the Prince'shousehold, Julius Spantz, the Master-of-arms. Far off in the hills abovethe Danube there lived the real leader of this deadly group--the IronCount Marlanx, exile from the land of his birth, hated and execrated byevery loyal Graustarkian, hating and execrating in return with a tenfoldgreater venom. Marlanx, the man who had been driven from wealth andpower by the sharp edict of Prince Robin's mother, the lamented Yetive,in the days of her most glorious reign,--this man, deep in his ragingheart, was in complete accord with the desperate band of Reds whopreached equality and planned disaster.

  Olga Platanova was the latest acquisition to this select circle. A wordconcerning her: she was the daughter of Professor Platanova, one timeoculist and sociologist in a large German University. He had been one ofthe most brilliant men in Europe and a member of a noble family. Therewas welcome for him in the homes of the nobility; he hobnobbed, so tospeak, with the leading men of time Empire. The Platanova home in Warsawwas one of the most inviting and exclusive in that great, city. Theprofessor's enthusiasm finally carried him from the conservative pathsin which he had walked; after he had passed his fiftieth year he becamean avowed leader among the anarchists and revolutionists in Poland, hisnative state. Less than a year before the opening of this tale he wasexecuted for treason and conspiracy against the Empire.

  His daughter, Olga, was recognised as one of the most beautiful andcultured young women in Warsaw. Her suitors seemed to be without number;nor were they confined to the student and untitled classes with whom shewas naturally thrown by force of circumstance. More than one lordlyadventurer in the lists of love paid homage to her grace and beauty.Finally there came one who conquered and was beloved. He was the son ofa mighty duke, a prince of the blood.

  It was true love for both of them. The young prince pledged himself tomarry her, despite all opposition; he was ready to give up his nobleinheritance for the sake of love. But there were other forces greaterthan a young man's love at work. The all-powerful ruler of an Empirelearned of this proposed mesalliance and was horrified. Two weeksafterward the prince was called. The will of the Crown was made known tohim and--he obeyed. Olga Platanova was cast aside but not forgotten. Hebecame the husband of an unloved, scrawny lady of diadems. When thesituation became more than he could bear he blew out his brains.

  When Olga heard the news of his death she was not stricken by grief. Shecried out her joy to a now cloudless sky, for he had justified the greatlove that had been theirs and would be theirs to the end of time.

  From a passive believer in the doctrines of her father and his circleshe became at once their most impassioned exponent. Over night shechanged from a gentle-hearted girl into a woman whose breast flamed witha lust for vengeance against a class from which death alone could freeher lover. She threw herself, heart and soul, into the deliberations andtransactions of the great red circle: her father understood and yet wasamazed.

  Then he was put to death by the class she had come to hate. One morestone in the sepulchre of her tender, girlish ideals. When the time cameshe travelled to Graustark in response to the call of the Committee ofTen; she came prepared to kill the creature she would be asked to kill.And yet down in her heart she was sore afraid.

  She was there, not to kill a man grown old in wrongs to her people, butto destroy the life of a gentle, innocent boy of seven!

  There were times when her heart shrank from the unholy deed she had beenselected to perform; she even prayed that death might come to her beforethe hour in which she was to do this execrable thing in behalf of thehumanity she served. But there was never a thought of receding from thebloody task set down for her--a task so morbid, so horrid that even themost vicious of men gloated in the satisfaction that they had not beenchosen in her place. Weeks before she came to Graustark Olga Platanovahad been chosen by lot to be the one to do this diabolical murder. Shedid not flinch, but came resolute and ready. Even the men in theCommittee of Ten looked upon the slender, dark-eyed girl with an awethat could not be conquered. Sh
e had not the manner of an assassin, andyet they knew that she would not draw back; she was as soft and as sweetas the Madonnas they secretly worshipped, and yet her heart was steeledto a purpose that appalled the fiercest of them.

  On a Saturday night, following the last visit of Truxton King to thearmourer, the Committee of Ten met in the underground room to hear thelatest word from one who could not be with them in person, but wasalways there in spirit--if they were to believe his most zealousutterances. The Iron Count Marlanx, professed hater of all that was richand noble, was the power behind the Committee of Ten. The assassinationof the little Prince and the overthrow of the royal family awaited hispleasure: he was the man who would give the word.

  Not until he was ready could anything be done, for Marlanx had promisedto put the Committee of Ten in control of this pioneer community when itcame under the dominion of anarchists.

  Alas, for the Committee of Ten! The wiliest fox in the history of theworld was never so wily as the Iron Count. Some day they were to findout that he was using them to pull his choicest chestnuts from the fire.

  The Committee was seated around the long table in the stifling,breathless room, the armourer at the head. Those who came by way of thesewer had performed ablutions in the queer toilet room that once hadbeen a secret vault for the storing of feudal plunder. What air therewas came from the narrow ventilator that burrowed its ways up to theshop of William Spantz, or through the chimney-hole in the ceiling.Olga Platanova sat far down the side, a moody, inscrutable expression inher dark eyes. She sat silent and oppressed through all the acrid,bitter discussions which carried the conclave far past the midnighthour. In her heart she knew that these men and women were alreadythinking of her as a regicide. It was settled--it was ordained. AtSpantz's right lounged Peter Brutus, a lawyer--formerly secretary to theIron Count and now his sole representative among these people. He was adark-faced, snaky-eyed young man, with a mop of coarse black hair thathung ominously low over his high, receding forehead. This man was thechosen villain among all the henchmen who came at the beck and call ofthe Iron Count.

  Julius Spantz, the armourer's son, a placid young man of goodly physicalproportions, sat next to Brutus, while down the table ranged others deepin the consideration of the world's gravest problems. One of the womenwas Madame Drovnask, whose husband had been sent to Siberia for life;and the other, Anna Cromer, a rabid Red lecturer, who had been drivenfrom the United States, together with her amiable husband: an assassinof some distinction and many aliases, at present foreman in charge ofone of the bridge-building crews on the new railroad.

  Every man in the party, and there were eight, for Olga was not a memberof the Ten, wore over the lower part of his face a false black beard ofhuge dimensions. Not that they were averse to recognition amongthemselves, but in the fear that by some hook or crook Dangloss or hisagents might be able to look in upon them--through stone walls, as itwere. They were not men to belittle the powers of the wonderful Baron.

  As it sat in secret conclave, the Committee of Ten was asinister-looking group.

  Brutus was speaking. "The man is a spy. He has been brought here fromAmerica by Tullis. Sooner or later you will find that I am right."

  "It is best to keep close watch on him," advised one of the men. "Weknow that he is in communication with the police and we know that hevisits the Castle, despite his declaration that he knows no one there.To-day's experience proves that. I submit that the strictest caution beobserved where he is concerned."

  "We shall continue to watch his every movement," said William Spantz."Time will tell. When we are positive that he is a detective and that heis dangerous, there is a way to stop his operations."

  His son grinned amiably as he swept his finger across his throat. Theold man nodded.

  "Dangloss suspects more than one of us" ventured Brutus, his gazetravelling toward Olga. There was lewd admiration in that steady glance."But we'll fool the old fox. The time will soon be here for the blowthat frees Graustark from the yoke. She will be the pioneer among ourestates, we the first of the individuals in equality; here the home seatof perfect rulership. There is nothing that can stop us. Have we not themost powerful of friends? Who is greater and shrewder than CountMarlanx? Who could have planned and perfected an organization sosplendid? Will any one dispute this?"

  He had the floor, and having the floor means everything to a Red. Forhalf an hour he spoke with impassioned fervour, descanting furiously onthe amazing virtues of his wily master and the plans he had arranged. Itappeared in the course of his remarks that Marlanx had friends andsupporters in all parts of Graustark. Hundreds of men in the hills,including honest shepherds and the dishonest brigands who thrived onthem, coal miners and wood stealers, hunters and outlaws were ready todo his bidding when the time was ripe. Moreover, Marlanx had beensuccessful in his design to fill the railway construction crews with theriff-raff of all Europe, all of whom were under the control of leaderswho could sway them in any movement, provided it was against law andorder. As a matter of fact, according to Brutus, nearly a thousandaliens were at work on the road, all of them ready to revolt the instantthe command was given by their advisers.

  Something that the Committee of Ten did not know was this: those alienworkmen were no less than so many hired mercenaries in the employ of theIron Count, brought together by that leader and his agents for the solepurpose of overthrowing the Crown in one sudden, unexpected attack,whereupon Count Marlanx would step in and assume control of thegovernment. They had been collected from all parts of the world to dothe bidding of this despised nobleman, no matter to what lengths hemight choose to lead them. Brutus, of course, knew all this: hiscompanions on the Committee were in complete ignorance of the truemotives that brought Marlanx into their operations.

  With a cunning that commands admiration, the Iron Count deliberatelysanctioned the assassination of the little Prince by the Reds, knowingthat the condemnation of the world would fall upon them instead of uponhim, and that his own actions following the regicide would at once stamphim as irrevocably opposed to anarchy and all of its practices!

  In the course of his remarks, Peter Brutus touched hastily upon thesubject of the little Prince.

  "He's not very big," said he, with a laugh, "and it won't require a verybig bomb to blow him to smithereens. He will--"

  "Stop!" cried Olga Platanova, springing to her feet and glaring at himwith dilated eyes. "I cannot listen to you! You shall not speak of it inthat way! Peter Brutus, you are not to speak of--of what I am to do!Never--never again!"

  They looked at her in amazement and no little concern. Madame Drovnaskwas the first to speak, her glittering eyes fastened upon the drawn,white face of the girl across the table.

  "Are you going to fail? Are you weakening?" she demanded.

  "No! I am not going to fail! But I will not permit any one to jest aboutthe thing I am to do. It is a sacred duty with me. But, MadameDrovnask--all of you, listen--it is a cruel, diabolical thing, just thesame. Were it not in behalf of our great humanity, I, myself, shouldcall it the blackest piece of cruelty the world has ever known. Theslaughter of a little boy! A dear, innocent little boy! I can see thehorror in all of your faces! You shudder as you sit there, thinking ofthe thing I am to do. Yes, you are secretly despising me, yourinstrument of death! I--I, a girl, I am to cast the bomb that blows thisdear little body to pieces. I! Do you know what that means? Even thoughI am sure to be blown to pieces by the same agent, the last thing Ishall look upon is his dear, terrified little face as he watches me hurlthe bomb. Ah!"

  She shuddered violently as she stood there before them, her eyes closedas if to shut out the horrible picture her mind was painting. Therewere other white faces and ice-cold veins about the table. The sneer onAnna Cromer's face deepened.

  "She will bungle it," came in an angry hiss from her lips.

  Olga's lids were lifted. Her dark eyes looked straight into those of theolder woman.

  "No," she said quietly, her body relaxing, "I shall not bungl
e it."

  William Spantz had been watching her narrowly, even suspiciously. Nowhis face cleared.

  "She will not fail," he announced calmly. "Let there be no apprehension.She is the daughter of a martyr. Her blood is his. It will flow in thesame cause. Sit down, Olga, my dear. We will not touch upon this subjectagain--until--"

  "I know, uncle," she said quietly, resuming her seat and her attitude ofindifference.

  The discussion went back to Truxton King. "Isn't it possible that he ismerely attracted by the beauty of our charming young friend here?"ventured Madame Drovnask, after many opinions had been advancedrespecting his interest in the shop and its contents. "It is a habitwith Americans, I am told."

  "Miss Platanova is most worthy of the notice of any man," agreed Brutus,with an amiable leer. Olga seemed to shrink within herself. It was plainthat she was not a kindred spirit to these vicious natures.

  "It is part of his game," said Julius Spantz. "He knows Olga's past; heis waiting for a chance to catch her off her guard. He may even go sofar as to make pretty love to you, cousin, in the hope that--no offence,my dear, no offence!" Her look had silenced him.

  "Mr. King is not a spy," she said steadily.

  "Well," concluded William Spantz, "we are safe if we take no chanceswith him. He must be watched all the time. If we discover that he iswhat some of us think he is, there is a way to end his usefulness."

  "Let him keep away from the shop downstairs," said Peter Brutus, with asidelong glance at the delicate profile of the girl down the table.

  She smiled suddenly, to the amazement of her sinister companions.

  "Have no fear, Brutus. When he hears that you object, he will be verypolite and give us a wide berth," she said. Peter flushed angrily.

  "He doesn't mean any good by you," he snapped. "He'll fool youand--poof! Away he goes, rejoicing."

  She still smiled. "You have a very good opinion of me, Peter Brutus."

  "Well," doggedly, "you know what men of his type think of shopgirls.They consider them legitimate prey."

  "And what, pray, do men of your type think of us?" she asked quietly.

  "Enough of this," interposed William Spantz. "Now, Brutus, what doesCount Marlanx say to this day two weeks? Will he be ready? On that daythe Prince and the Court are to witness the unveiling of the Yetivememorial statue in the Plaza. It is a full holiday in Graustark. No manwill be employed at his usual task and--"

  Brutus interrupted him. "That is the very day that the Count has askedme to submit to the Committee. He believes it to be the day of all days.Nothing should go amiss. We conquer with a single blow. By noon of thatday, the 26th of July, the Committee of Ten will be in control of theState; the new regime will be at hand. A new world will be begun, withEdelweiss as the centre, about which all the rest shall revolve. We--theCommittee of Ten--will be its true founders. We shall be glorifiedforever--"

  "We've heard all this before, Brutus," said Julius Spantz unfeelingly,"a hundred times. It's talk, talk, talk! What we need now is action. Arewe sure that the Count will be prepared to do all that he says he willon the 26th of July? Will he have his plans perfected? Are his forcesready for the stroke?"

  "Positively. They await the word. That's all I can say," growled Peter."The death of the Prince is the signal for the overthrow of the presentgovernment and the establishment of the new order of equal humanity."

  "After all," mused Julius, Master-at-arms in the Castle, "it is morehumane to slay the Prince while he is young. It saves him from a longlife of trouble and fear and the constant dread of the very thing thatis to happen to him now. Yes, it is best that it should come soon." Downin his heart, Julius loved the little Prince.

  For an hour longer the Committee discussed plans for the eventful day.Certain details were left for future deliberations; each person had hispart to play and each one was settled in his or her determination thatnothing should go amiss.

  The man they feared was Dangloss. They did not fear God!

  When they dispersed for the night, it was to meet again three days hencefor the final word from Marlanx, who, it seems, was not so far away thatcommunication with him was likely to be delayed. A sword hung over thehead of Truxton King, an innocent outsider, and there was a prospectthat it would fall in advance of the blow that was intended to startlethe world. Olga Platanova was the only one who did not look upon thesprightly American as a spy in the employ of the government--adangerously clever spy at that.

  Up in the distant hills slept the Iron Count, dreaming of the day whenhe should rule over the new Graustark--for he would rule!--a smile onhis grizzled face in reflection of recent waking thoughts concerning thepunishment that should fall swiftly upon the assassins of the belovedPrince Robin.

  He would make short shrift of assassins!