FRANK AND JACK.
“What are you talking about?” asked Jack, in a puzzled way. “Frank, has
anything gone wrong with your brain?”
“I think not,” smiled Merry quietly.
“But you have acted so strangely! This is not the first time you have
spoken of the metal ball, the blood-red star——”
“Which you saw fall before me, and which I have here.”
Frank took the crimson star from his pocket and placed it on the table
before them.
“It is the sign of death!” he said. “It came from the Black Brothers,
from whose hands I was saved this night. There are seven of the
brothers, and there are seven points to the star.”
Diamond gave himself a shake.
“Come, come, Merriwell!” he exclaimed. “What sort of rot is this? Excuse
me for using the word ‘rot,’ but no other word seems appropriate. It is
like a chapter from a sensational story. You haven’t been reading French
detective novels till they have turned your brain, have you?”
“Nothing of the sort, Diamond,” replied Frank calmly. “I know it seems
most remarkable, and I do not wonder you think it crazy nonsense. I
remember that I thought Edmond Laforce insane.”
“Who is Edmond Laforce?”
“He is, or was, the Duke of Benoit du Sault.”
“But he is dead.”
“Yes, murdered in his bed by the Black Brothers!”
“Nonsense! He died in a perfectly natural manner, of heart failure.”
“All men die of heart failure, but there was a cause for the death of
Edmond Laforce. A star exactly like this one before us had fallen into
his hands, and he was doomed to death. He knew it. He knew his time was
limited to ten days.”
“Why was this?”
“Because he was doing everything in his power to save Dreyfus from
Devil’s Island. Because, through his work, he had become dangerous to
the existence of the Anti-Dreyfus League.”
“The Anti-Dreyfus League? Is there such an organization?”
“Yes.”
“Is it the same as the Black Brothers?”
“No. The Black Brothers are simply the executioners of the great and
powerful league, which contains some of the wealthiest and most
influential men in France. The league is sworn to hold poor Dreyfus on
his prison island. I have learned that not all the members of the league
are aware, that there is a band of assassins connected with the
organization. The league is like a secret order. A man may join it, and
yet he may never be initiated into its deeper mysteries. He may join it
by simply pledging himself to use all ‘honorable’ means to keep Dreyfus
on that island. That is the first degree. There are other degrees, and
only the right ones to take them are advanced. When a man takes the
highest degree, he pledges himself, in case of necessity, to commit
murder to perpetuate the imprisonment of Dreyfus. When he has taken this
degree, he knows all about the Black Brothers, but those who have never
advanced beyond the lower degrees know nothing of the connection of the
league with the seven assassins. They furnish money to be used in the
work of ‘honorably’ keeping Dreyfus on the island, and are quite unaware
that much of that money goes to pay the assassins in black.”
Jack Diamond listened with increasing astonishment.
“And do you mean to tell me that such things can be here in France?” he
cried.
“Are such things so very strange? You must not forget that it was here
the Commune existed. It was here the bloodiest revolution of history
took place. These streets have run red with human blood!”
“But it seems so calm, so peaceful now! There seems no hint of anything
wrong.”
“The calm is all on the surface. The French people are peculiar. At any
moment the storm may break forth. The men who seem so calm and happy at
one moment, in another instant may turn to wrangling, raging,
bloodthirsty demons. You cannot measure a Frenchman by the standard of
an American. They are different, the same as an American differs from an
Englishman.”
“But how did you learn so much about this league?”
“Since the day the red star fell before me, I have been doing my best to
hunt down the Black Brothers, and gradually I have learned the things
just told you.”
“But this star, Merry, is——”
“The sign the Black Brothers give one who has been doomed to die by the
death council of the league.”
“And you are one?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the Duke of Benoit du Sault gave me the metal ball, which he
said contained something that might help prove the innocence of
Dreyfus.”
“When did he give you this?”
“The very night of his death. I met him in the Place de l’Opera. He had
been seized by strange pains in his heart, and I assisted him to a seat
by a table before the Café de la Paix. Those pains alarmed him. It was
the tenth day after he had received the red star. He thought he might be
dying, and, finding I was an American and in full sympathy with Dreyfus,
he entrusted me with the metal ball, pledging me to secrecy, and making
me promise to defend it with my life, till a person with the proper
signal called for it. My promise of silence has caused me to keep still,
and has given you an opportunity to say I did not trust you.”
Diamond had been intensely interested all along, but now he was athrob
with excitement.
“But you are telling me now!” he exclaimed. “The metal ball—where is
it?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes. I am released from my pledge.”
“You delivered it into the proper hands?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“The Black Brothers took it from me.”
“Then they obtained the precious secret that was to liberate Dreyfus?”
“Nothing of the sort.”
“They did not?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I fancied the secret would become theirs till I saw the chief of the
seven open the ball before me, as I stood bound and helpless, with my
back against that stone pillar.”
“What did it contain?”
“Nothing.”
Jack fell back in his chair.
“It was——”
“Empty,” nodded Frank.
After a little the Virginian eagerly asked:
“How was that? Explain it!”
“I cannot. All I know is that the hollow metal ball which had caused me
so much trouble was perfectly empty. The Black Brothers were infuriated
at the discovery, and my death was set to occur at once. They drew their
swords and were ready to run them through my body when the first blow
fell on the door at the head of the stairs and the officers demanded
admittance.”
Jack was silent, thinking of the wonderful things he had heard.
“I have no doubt but the story seems almost beyond belief,” said Frank;
“but you came with Mr. Noname and found me in the cellar. You know I did
not tie myself to that post. Here is the red star, which is the sign of
death. The metal ball I cannot show you, as that has passed beyond my
possession.”
“Good heavens! What are you going to do, Frank? Why don’t you get out of
Paris and out of France?”
A grim look came to Merry’s face.
“Do you advise me to run away?” he asked. “Would that be manly?”
“Manly! Merciful goodness! do you think you can defend your life against
the powerful Anti-Dreyfus League and its tools, the Black Brothers? This
Dreyfus affair is nothing to you.”
“You are wrong!”
“How?”
“It is something to every man who loves liberty and justice!”
“But you cannot be willing to sacrifice your life in the cause. It is
not required of you. There are others who may do that.”
“The existence of the league is well known; before I leave France I am
going to try to show that the seven assassins in black are connected
with the league. If I can do that, it may be that the league will go to
pieces, for the decent ones in the lower degrees, who know nothing of
its connection with murderers, may withdraw and denounce it.”
“And, in the meantime, you may follow other victims of the Black
Brothers! It is horrible to think of! But the papers said the Duke of
Benoit du Sault died a natural death.”
“Because they did not know any better. He was murdered!”
“How?”
“That is yet a mystery. I have thought much about it. I remember that he
told me of an encounter with a bold woman of the streets. When he
repulsed her, she struck him with a pin, inflicting a wound on his left
wrist. That was bleeding when he was attacked by the pains. I remember
that, from his manner, it seemed that the pains shot up his arm.”
“Then you think the wound on his wrist may have——Oh, pshaw! That must be
nonsense, Frank! That could not have killed him. Those pains were
brought on by the excitement of the encounter with the woman. His heart
had been wrong all along, and it failed him that night.”
“Still,” said Frank Merriwell, “you must admit it is most singular that
that night was the tenth one after he received a star exactly like this
blood-red one I hold in my hand.”
Diamond was more deeply impressed than he wished to acknowledge. He did
not wish to believe that Merry, his friend, had been selected as a
victim by the dreaded Black Brothers.
He had been with Frank when the red star fell on Merry’s plate one day
at a queer little restaurant, where they were taking lunch. At the time
he observed the remarkable change that came over his friend, who, having
been gay and light-hearted, suddenly grew sober and stern. Jack thought
about this now. He thought of other things which had seemed so
mysterious to him, and he did not wonder at Merry’s strange acts. Still,
it was most remarkable that Frank, a stranger and a foreigner, had been
drawn into the affair.
Jack’s sympathy was with the unfortunate prisoner of Devil’s Island,
believing Dreyfus had been unfairly and unjustly condemned, but,
hot-blooded though he was, he felt certain he would have a care not to
permit himself to become involved as Frank had been. But Diamond was not
one to reproach a friend, or to desert him in the hour of trouble. He
was ready to stand by Frank through any peril.
That Frank was in great peril he could no longer doubt. That Frank had
been condemned to die by the Anti-Dreyfus League was apparent. Jack’s
soul rebelled at the thought that such a thing could be in a city like
Paris. And it was terrible to fancy that Merry might come to his end as
had the Duke of Benoit du Sault, without a single mark being left on his
body to tell how his death had been accomplished.
Jack leaned across the table and spoke earnestly.
“Why should you stay here in Paris, Frank, and wait for those murderous
wretches to accomplish their dastardly work? Why don’t you get out?
There is nothing to keep us here. In fact, I am beginning to feel that I
have seen enough of this place.”
“And it was only yesterday,” retorted Frank, with a smile, “that you
said you could live a year in Paris without getting tired.”
“Did I say that?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind. If you were fighting an enemy like Harris
or Brattle, it would be different. By the way, where is Brattle?”
“You tell.”
“He has disappeared.”
“Completely.”
“Perhaps he is connected with the very ones who are doing their best to
snuff you out.”
“Not likely. They would not trust him.”
“And yet he may have aided to throw suspicion on you.”
“It is possible, but does not seem probable.”
Frank Merriwell sipped his lemonade, which had been served, seeming cool
and unconcerned, as if deadly danger had never visited him in all his
life. The black-face comedians had retired, and there was a sudden burst
of applause, as a popular chanteuse appeared. She began to sing, and the
young Americans resumed their conversation.
“I do not feel like running away now,” said Merry grimly.
“You know the old saying,” muttered Jack: “‘He who fights and runs
away,’ etc.”
“I know, but there is no reason why I should run. I can do the
anti-Dreyfus men no harm now.”
“Perhaps they do not know that. Your sympathy is with Dreyfus?”
“Yes. I believe he was unjustly condemned. I believe everything points
to Esterhazy as the guilty man.”
“But the _bordereau_, the paper which convicted him——”
“Was forged by Esterhazy, I firmly believe. Of late, everything has
tended to prove that. There was no real reason why Dreyfus should have
acted as a traitor. It could not have been from anger or disappointment,
as he had the finest prospects of an excellent military career.”
“And Esterhazy——”
“Always an adventurer and a soldier of fortune, always begging money
from the money-lenders, always extravagant and dissolute, there were
many reasons why he might have been guilty. Letters of his, which he
cannot deny, and in which he abused France unmercifully, have been
found. Those letters are in the possession of the friends of Dreyfus,
and will be used at the proper time.”
“But it has been claimed that Dreyfus was dissolute, that he was a
gambler, and an associate of the low and vicious.”
“It has been claimed, but it has not been proven. Instead, in many
instances, it has been shown conclusively that such charges against him
were utterly false. It has been shown that others by the name of Dreyfus
have been confounded with him. I do not suppose he was a man without
faults, but those faults and failings make his unjust and cruel
condemnation none the less horrible.”
“You feel strongly about this, Frank.”
“I do! I confess it. And I feel more strongly now than ever before. I
feel like going into this thing deeply, but it now seems that I have
done everything in my power, and that has proved to be—nothing!”
“Have you other reasons to believe Dreyfus innocent?”
“Yes. It has been shown that he was not even aware of some of the
secrets given away in the forged papers. He had not been placed in
position to acquire the knowledge contained in those papers. The
dastards who sought his ruin incorporated in the papers what they
thought he knew, but they were wrong.”
“This being the case, how is it possible to hold him longer on Devil’s
Island without a fair and open trial?”
“In America or England it would not be possible. In France it is
different. He is a Jew, and you see the powerful feeling that has been
aroused against the Jews. He was condemned by the army, and it is a
firmly entrenched belief in this country that the army can do no wrong.
To give him another trial now, at which he might be able to clear
himself fully, would be to confess that there was a possible doubt in
the matter. That, it is said, would throw discredit on the army. If he
were to be shown innocent, it might bring on a revolution.”
“And so they are going to let an innocent man rot on Devil’s Island
rather than give him justice and confess that a terrible wrong has been
done?”
“You must remember that it is ‘for the honor of France!’”
“It is the dishonor of France!” exclaimed Diamond hotly. “It means the
eternal disgrace of France!”
“The day must come when the whole truth will be known.”
In this speech Frank was prophetic. The day did come when the whole
wretched conspiracy came to light, and the unfortunate Dreyfus was
publicly proclaimed innocent.
“So much the worse for France if Dreyfus dies on that island.”
“You are getting warm over it, Jack,” laughed Merry.
“A trifle,” confessed the Virginian. “Who wouldn’t?”
“It is enough to warm up almost anybody,” agreed Frank. “I think you
begin to understand how I feel. And you must see why I guarded that ball
with my very life.”
“But that contained nothing.”
“When it was opened it contained nothing. I believe there was a time
when it contained a paper that would have aided in proving Dreyfus
innocent.”
There was a low, musical laugh near at hand, and a voice spoke in
French, saying:
“Messieurs, you are so eager, so earnest! I wonder what it can be you
talk of so animatedly? It cannot be of Mademoiselle Held, for you have
scarcely glanced toward the stage. Yet I’ll wager I can read the truth
in your faces and tell you your very thoughts.”
A woman, slender, supple, graceful, attired in airy evening-dress, with
a mask hiding the upper part of her face, stood beside the table.
Without being invited, she sat down there.
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