divided as to be broken strands of a cable. Let a mighty hand unite but two of the strands, and the rest will twist up with them into a hawser to pull down the crowned evils from their pride of place. Begin with us, most venerable master. If you want the French to be delivered from royalty, make us free of British domination."
"Well spoken," said the Hierophant of Memphis. "You Americans shall be free, and France will lend a helping hand. In all languages, the Grand Architect hath said: 'Help each other!' Wait a while. You will not have long to bide, my brother."
Turning to the Switzer, he drew these words from him:
"I can promise only my private contribution. The sons of our republic have long supplied troops to the French monarchy. They are faithful bargainers, and will carry out their contracts. For the first time, most venerated Master, I am ashamed of their loyalty."
"Be it so, we must win without them and in their teeth. Speak, Spain!"
"I am poor," said the grandee, "and have but three thousand brothers to supply. But each will furnish a thousand reals a year. Spain is an indolent land, where man would doze though a bed of thorns."
"Be it so," said the Grand Master. "Speak, you, brother."
"I speak for Russia and the Polish clubs. Our brothers are discontented rich men, or serfs doomed to restless labor and untimely death. In the name of the latter, owning nothing, not even life, I can promise nothing; but three thousand rich men will pay twenty louis a head every year."
The other deputies came forward by turns, and had their offers set down in the Copt's memorandum book as they bound themselves to fulfill their plight.
"The word of command," said the leader, "already spread in one part of the world, is to be dispensed through the others. It is symbolized by the three letters which you have seen. Let each one wear them in the heart as well as on it, for we, the Sovereign Master of the shrines of the Orient and the West, we order the ruin of the Lilies. L. P. D. signifies Lilia Pedibus Destrue– Trample Lilies Under! I order you of Spain, Sweden, Scotland, Switzerland and America, to Trample down the Lilies of the Bourbon race."
The cheering was like the roar of the sea, under the vault, escaping by gusts down the mountain gorges.
"In the name of the Architect, begone," said the Master. "By stream and strand and valley, begone by the rising of the sun. You will see me once more, and that will be on the day of triumph. Go!"
He terminated his address with a masonic sign which was understood solely by the six chiefs, who remained after the inferiors had departed. Then the Grand Copt took the Swede aside.
"Swedenborg, you are really an inspired man, and heaven thanks you by my voice. Send the cash into France to the address I shall give you."
The president bowed humbly, and went away amazed by the second sight which had unveiled his name.
"Brave Fairfax," said the Master to another, "I hail you as the worthy son of your sire. Remind me to General Washington when next you write to him."
Fairfax retired on the heels of Swedenborg.
"Paul Jones," went on the Copt to the American deputy, "you have spoken to the mark, as I expected of you. You will be one of the heroes of the American Republic. Be both of you ready when the signal is flying."
Quivering as though inspired by a holy breath, the future capturer of the Serapis likewise retired.
"Lavater," said the Master to the Swiss, "drop your theories for it is high time to take up practice; no longer study what man is, but what he may become. Go, and woe to your fellow countrymen who take up arms against us, for the wrath of the people is swift and devouring even as that of the God on high!"
Trembling, the physiognomist bowed and went his way.
"List to me, Ximenes," said the Copt to the Spaniard; "you are zealous, but you distrust yourself. You say, Spain dozes. That is because no one rouses her. Go and awake her; Castile is still the land of the Cid."
The last chief was skulking forward when the head of the Masons checked him with a wave of the hand.
"Schieffort, of Russia, you are a traitor who will betray our cause before the month is over; but before the month is out, you will be dead."
The Muscovite envoy fell on his knees; but the other made him rise with a threatening gesture, and the doomed one reeled out of the hall.
Left by himself in the deserted and silent hall, the strange man buttoned up his overcoat, settled his hat on his head, pushed the spring of the bronze door to make it open, and went forth. He strode down the mountain defiles as if they had long been known to him, and without light or guide in the woods, went to the further edge. He listened, and hearing a distant neigh, he proceeded thither. Whistling peculiarly, he brought his faithful Djerid to his hand. He leaped lightly into the saddle, and the two, darting away headlong, were enwrapped in the fogs rising between Danenfels and the top of the Thunder Mountain.
CHAPTER II
THE LIVING-WAGON IN THE STORM
A week after the events depicted, a living-wagon drawn by four horses and conducted by two postboys, left Pont-a-Mousson, a pretty town between Nancy and Metz. Nothing like this caravan, as show people style the kind, had ever crossed the bridge, though the good folks see theatrical carts of queer aspect.
The body was large and painted blue, with a baron's insignia, surmounting a J. and a B., artistically interlaced. This box was lighted by two windows, curtained with muslin, but they were in the front, where a sort of driver's cab hid them from the vulgar eye. By these apertures the inmate of the coach could talk with outsiders. Ventilation was given this case by a glazed skylight in the "dickey," or hind box of the vehicle, where grooms usually sit. Another orifice completed the oddity of the affair by presenting a stovepipe, which belched smoke, to fade away in the wake as the whole rushed on.
In our times one would have simply imagined that it was a steam conveyance and applauded the mechanician who had done away with horses.
The machine was followed by a led horse of Arab extraction, ready saddled, indicating that one of the passengers sometimes gave himself the pleasure and change of riding alongside the vehicle.
At St. Mihiel the mountain ascent was reached. Forced to go at a walk, the quarter of a league took half an hour.
Toward evening the weather turned from mild and clear to tempestuous. A cloud spread over the skies with frightful rapidity and intercepted the setting sunbeams. All of a sudden the cloud was stripped by a lightning flash, and the startled eye could plunge into the immensity of the firmament, blazing like the infernal regions. The vehicle was on the mountain side when a second clap of thunder flung the rain out of the cloud; after falling in large drops, it poured hard.
The postboys pulled up. "Hello!" demanded a man's voice from inside the conveyance, "what are you stopping for?"
"We are asking one another if we ought to go on," answered one postillion with the deference to a master who had paid handsomely.
"It seems to me that I ought to be asked about that. Go ahead!"
But the rain had already made the road downward slippery.
"Please, sir, the horses won't go," said the elder postillion.
"What have you got spurs for?"
"They
