t them
to Heligoland Thence members of our league have brought them here and
distributed them among the brothers. In the harbor of Genoa a Swedish and
an English ship lie ready for our service; the English one to aid our
escape and convey us to England, if our enterprise fails; the Swedish one
to serve as a transport vessel, if we succeed. Everywhere our friends are
working, everywhere they are preparing the insurrection; Tyrol is like a
well-filled bomb which needs only the application of a spark to burst and
scatter confusion around it, and in the minds of individuals patriotism
has increased to a fanaticism which deems even murder a justifiable means
to rid Europe from the shameful yoke of the tyrant. If we cannot execute
our plan, if we do not succeed in abducting Napoleon, perhaps the dagger of
an assassin will he raised against him--an assassin who does not regard his
deed as a crime, but as a sacred duty."

"And why are we content with an abduction?" asked the count fiercely. "Why
should not the blood of the man who has shed so many torrents of blood, be
shed also?"

"Because that would be too light a punishment," said Kraus, with an
expression of gloomy hate. "Because it would be an atonement for all his
crimes, if he fell beneath the daggers of murderers. Such daggers rendered
the tyrant Julius Caesar a hero, a martyr, and they would also transform
Napoleon into a demi-god. No, we will not grant him such a triumph, such a
glorious end--we will not allow him a speedy death. He shall ignominiously
disappear; he shall die slowly on some barren island in the ocean; die amid
the tortures of solitude, of weariness, of powerless rage. This must be the
vengeance of Europe; this must be the end of the vampire who has drunk her
heart's blood."

"You are right? it shall, it must be so," cried the count, with sparkling
eyes. "Now tell me, what have _I_ to do? What part is assigned to _me_?"

"You will go to Genoa, count. Here is a letter from General Nugent to the
captain of the Swedish ship Proserpina, now lying in the harbor."

"But it is not sealed?" asked the count, taking the paper offered.

"Open it, and you will find that it does not contain a single word. I
received it so from our messenger, who brought it directly from Count
Nugent in Heligoland to me. It is your letter of recommendation, that is
all! Written words might compromise, spoken ones die away upon the wind. If
you deliver this, addressed in General