them,
frying-pan and all, on the table. "Come, eat while the food is hot. And
give nothing," he repeated, returning to the attack. "You and I ride
in no carriages with gilt wheels. We work, or, failing work, we starve.
Their feet are on our necks. But one use they have for us, you and me,
my friend--to tax us."

"The taxes are not heavy," quoth old Adelbert.

"There are some who find them so." The concierge heaped his guest's
plate with onions. And old Adelbert, who detested onions, and was
besides in no mood for food, must perforce sample them.

"I can cook," boasted his host. "The daughter of my sister cannot cook.
She uses milk, always milk. Feeble dishes, I call them. Strong meat for
strong men, comrade."

Old Adelbert played with his steel fork. "I was a good patriot," he
observed nervously, "until they made me otherwise."

"I will make you a better. A patriot is one who is zealous for his
country and its welfare. That means much. It means that when the
established order is bad for a country, it must be changed. Not that
you and I may benefit. God knows, we may not live to benefit. But that
Livonia may free her neck from the foot of the oppressor, and raise her
head among nations."

From which it may be seen that old Adelbert had at last joined the
revolutionary party, an uneasy and unhappy recruit, it is true, but--a
recruit. "If only some half-measure would suffice," he said, giving up
all pretense of eating. "This talk of rousing the mob, of rioting and
violence, I do not like them."

"Then has age turned the blood in your veins to water!" said the
concierge contemptuously. "Half-measures! Since when has a half-measure
been useful? Did half-measures win in your boasted battles? And what
half-measures would you propose?"

Old Adelbert sat silent. Now and then, because his mouth was dry, he
took a sip of beer from his tankard. The concierge ate, taking huge
mouthfuls of onions and bread, and surveying his feeble-hearted recruit
with appraising eyes. To win him would mean honor, for old Adelbert,
decorated for many braveries, was a power among the veterans. Where he
led, others would follow.

"Make no mistake," said Black Humbert cunningly. "We aim at no
bloodshed. A peaceful revolution, if possible. The King, being dead,
will suffer not even humiliation. Let the royal family scatter where it
will. We have no designs on women. The Chancellor, however, must die."

"I make no plea for him," said old Ade