‘_I have lost touch with the conspiracy. From this moment I no longer
answer for your life._’
This warning was not even shown to the doomed King.
I now adopted a course which I had put off as long as possible, on
account of the risk involved. I secretly engaged a second lodging at
a distance, where I could disguise myself as I pleased, and began to
shadow the Anarchist leaders.
It was a dangerous game to play, because such men were accustomed
to find themselves the subject of police surveillance, and would
probably be quick to detect anything of the sort. My only chance of
success lay in the fact that I already possessed so much knowledge of
their movements as to make the task of watching them a comparatively
easy one.
I had come to the conclusion that the real head of the group was the
crippled Swiss. This man kept a small shop, chiefly for repairs, in
the heart of the Italian quarter. I made up as a Corsican, to account
for any imperfections of accent, and hung about the neighbourhood,
begging.
Ferretti, Peters, and The Bear were frequent visitors, and the
simpleton Bresci called once or twice, but for some days I saw
nothing that I could fix upon as having a suspicious look. I
remembered, however, that the lame watchmaker had always been missing
from the gatherings at the club on Saturday nights, and I looked
forward to making some discovery when the end of the week arrived.
I was not disappointed, though I had to wait so long that I almost
gave up hope. Just as the clock struck ten a tall, swarthy figure
brushed right by me, and slipped into the little shop. The moment
after, the lame man came out into the street, and began putting up
the shutters.
It was necessary to act promptly. I stepped up to the Swiss and
whispered my assumed name in his ear.
‘Lebrun! You!’ he ejaculated in astonishment. ‘I thought you were one
of the police.’
‘It is the other way about,’ I answered. ‘The police have been after
me; that is why I have had to disguise myself. But let us come
inside, I want to talk to you.’
As I expected, he tried to prevent me going in.
‘No, not there. I have some one on business.’
‘Business of the cause?’ I demanded.
‘Yes--no, private business.’
‘I will wait in the shop till he is gone,’ I returned, and pushed my
way through the door, the cripple following.
The tall, dark figure started to its feet in evident alarm as we
entered. I saw a brown hand glide towards the bosom, an action which
told me that I was not dealing with a European. In the dim light
of the little shop I could not fix the stranger’s nationality more
precisely. He did not seem to be an Arab; he was above the grade
of a negro. If I had met him in Algiers I should have called him a
Sudanese, a convenient term for the unknown races of Africa.
The situation was a complicated one. The watchmaker, it was evident,
did not more than half believe my account of myself; I could not tell
that the stranger really had any connection with the mystery I wanted
to unravel; and he must have been utterly confounded by my intrusion.
‘Is your friend one of us? Does he know anything about the business
you put before me the other day?’ I asked of the Swiss in Italian.
Before the Swiss could do more than give me a warning gesture, the
unknown had addressed him in the sort of Italian which forms the
common speech of seamen in the Levant.
‘Is this the man you thought you could persuade to undertake the
work?’
The watchmaker was fairly cornered.
‘Go inside and I will speak to you,’ he said to the swarthy
outlander; then he added, speaking in quick French to me--‘I must
have some explanation with you before I trust you again.’
‘That will not do for me,’ I returned, sticking to my Italian and
trying to render it intelligible to the unknown. ‘You have asked me
to do a dangerous work on behalf of the cause; very well, I am ready
to do it, but first I insist on knowing who is going to provide the
sinews of war. That is fair, it seems to me.’
This time the stranger’s tone became peremptory.
‘Why do not you wish me to speak to this man?’ he asked.
The shopkeeper scowled at both of us by turns.
‘Because I don’t know that he is right,’ he muttered.
‘How do I know that you are right?’ I retorted. ‘It appears you are
going to have a big price for this business, and you want me to shut
my eyes and not ask what becomes of the money.’
The Swiss wrung his hands in despair. I believe that he was quite
honest, and that he wished for the money in order to spread his
atrocious principles; while his distrust of me was only too well
founded.