lbert bitterly. "I wrote to him
also, when I lost my position, and received no reply. We passed through
the same campaigns, as I reminded him, but he did nothing."

"As for the Crown Prince," observed the concierge, eyeing the old man
over the edge of his tankard, "you know our plan for him. He will be
cared for as my own child, until we get him beyond the boundaries. Then
he will be safely delivered to those who know nothing of his birth. A
private fund of the Republic will support and educate him."

Old Adelbert's hands twitched. "He is but a child," he said, "but
already he knows his rank."

"It will be wise for him to forget it." His tone was ominous. Adelbert
glanced up quickly, but the Terrorist had seen his error, and masked
it with a grin. "Children forget easily," he said, "and by this secret
knowledge of yours, old comrade, all can be peacefully done. Until
you brought it to me, we were, I confess, fearful that force would be
necessary. To admit the rabble to the Palace would be dangerous. Mobs
go mad at such moments. But now it may be effected with all decency and
order."

"And the plan?"

"I may tell you this." The concierge shoved his plate away and bent over
the table. "We have set the day as that of the Carnival. On that day all
the people are on the streets. Processions are forbidden, but the usual
costuming with their corps colors as pompons is allowed. Here and
there will be one of us clad in red, a devil, wearing the colors of His
Satanic Majesty. Those will be of our forces, leaders and speech-makers.
When we secure the Crown Prince, he will be put into costume until he
can be concealed. They will seek, if there be time, the Prince Ferdinand
William Otto. Who will suspect a child, wearing some fantastic garb of
the Carnival?"

"But the King?" inquired old Adelbert in a shaking voice. "How can you
set a day, when the King may rally? I thought all hung on the King's
death."

The concierge bent closer over the table. "Doctor Wiederman, the King's
physician, is one of us," he whispered. "The King lives now only
because of stimulants to the heart. His body is already dead. When the
stimulants cease, he will die."

Old Adelbert covered his eyes. He had gone too far to retreat now.
Driven by brooding and trouble, he had allied himself with the powers of
darkness.

The stain, he felt, was already on his forehead. But before him, like
a picture on a screen, came the scene by which he had lived for