awake to the reality of things. The man into
whose hands he had thrust the leather case had extracted therefrom a
narrow strip of bluish paper. He held it up above his head, and, as
after the scuffle an expectant uneasy stillness reigned once more, he
threw it down disdainfully with the words, 'I think, comrades, that this
proof was hardly necessary.'

"Quick as thought, the girl stooped after the fluttering slip. Holding
it spread out in both hands, she looked at it; then, without raising her
eyes, opened her fingers slowly and let it fall.

"I examined that curious document afterwards. It was signed by a very
high personage, and stamped and countersigned by other high officials
in various countries of Europe. In his trade--or shall I say, in his
mission?--that sort of talisman might have been necessary, no doubt.
Even to the police itself--all but the heads--he had been known only as
Sevrin the noted anarchist.

"He hung his head, biting his lower lip. A change had come over him,
a sort of thoughtful, absorbed calmness. Nevertheless, he panted. His
sides worked visibly, and his nostrils expanded and collapsed in weird
contrast with his sombre aspect of a fanatical monk in a meditative
attitude, but with something, too, in his face of an actor intent upon
the terrible exigencies of his part. Before him Horne declaimed, haggard
and bearded, like an inspired denunciatory prophet from a wilderness.
Two fanatics. They were made to understand each other. Does this
surprise you? I suppose you think that such people would be foaming at
the mouth and snarling at each other?"

I protested hastily that I was not surprised in the least; that I
thought nothing of the kind; that anarchists in general were simply
inconceivable to me mentally, morally, logically, sentimentally, and
even physically. X received this declaration with his usual woodenness
and went on.

"Horne had burst out into eloquence. While pouring out scornful
invective, he let tears escape from his eyes and roll down his black
beard unheeded. Sevrin panted quicker and quicker. When he opened his
mouth to speak, everyone hung on his words.

"'Don't be a fool, Horne,' he began. 'You know very well that I have
done this for none of the reasons you are throwing at me.' And in a
moment he became outwardly as steady as a rock under the other's lurid
stare. 'I have been thwarting, deceiving, and betraying you--from
conviction.'

"He turned his back on Horne, and