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PI FTESMTOiEOIXtQH.
CHICAGO: F. J. SCHULTE & CO., PUBLISHERS,
“ The Book of the Epoch. A Wonderfully Fascinating Work
C>ESAR’S Column
A STORY OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY.
BY EDMUND BOISGILBERT, M. D,
ONE of the most remarkable books ever written. The author, a man of wealth and high social position, and who writes under a nom de phcme^ presents, in a wonderfully fascinating and startlingly original work of fic- tion, a profound study of present sociological conditions, and follovvs these conditions out to what he believes will be their enevitable result. The events described in the story take place in the year 1988, and the scene is laid in New York City, containing at that time ten million inhabitants.
SOME WEIGHTY OPINIONS.
“ That our people in this country need arousing is unquestionably true, and you have fought forward a Oatoriel’s trump of a very different sort from the one concerning which I have been wont to think. ’’—FRANCES E. WILLARD.
“ I find in it evidence of great litei.ary abil- ity, abounding, as it does, in great wealtli of* imagery aud. vividness of* detail. * *
As an example of high literary form, the book deserves unstinted praise.” — CARDINAL GIBBONS.
“ ‘ Cgesar’s Column,’ in its vivid portrayal, will lead many to realize better the many dangers to which our country is liable.” — HON. WM. LARRABEE.
“ Certainly a very extraordinary produc- tion.”— Rev. Bishop H. C. POTTER.
“ I was unable to lay it down until I had finished reading it. It should be read by every farmer in the land.’' — H. L. LOUCKS, President National Farmers'' Alliance.
‘‘Bellamy looks backward upon 'what is impossi- ble as well as improbable. ‘ Caesar’s Column ’ looks forward to what is not only possil>le, l>ut prol>- al»le.” — MILTON GEORGE, Founder of the Fanners"' Alliance.
'“I have read ‘Caesar’s Column’ twice and am convinced that it has been written in tlie nick, of* time. * ❖ I predict for the book an im-
mense sale and a world-wide discussiop.” — COR- INNE S. BROWN, Secretary Nationalist Club., Chicago.
“ Peculiarly timely at the present time, and should have a wide reading among thinking people.” — B. O. FLOWER.
“ From the time that I received a copy of ‘ Caesar’s Column ’ until after two o’c ock the next morning I read with the mo8t intense interest to the end. Only once before in my life has a book in any degree affected me like this one. That was Charles Reade’s ‘ Put Yourself in His Place.’ ‘ Progress and Poverty,’ .Rebel’s ‘Woman,’ Gronlund’s ‘Commonwealth,’ and ’even ‘ Looking Backward ’ — all have failed to arouse in me sufficient interest to receive a complete perusal. But ‘Caesar’s Column ’. will receive no such indiffer- ent attention. To coniiiKuicc it is to linisli it. and to finish it is in my case the creation of an im- patient desire to read it again.” — T. J. MORGAN.
“ The book points out tendencies which actually exist and are in need of cure. It warns us with vehemence and force of the necessity of guarding our liberties against the encroachments of monopoly and plutocracy, and of disarming corruption in govern- ment by every device that a vigilant ingenuity can supply.”— GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON in New York World.
‘‘ I began the book in the morning, and read it care- fully to the end the same day. It is exceotliiigly interesting as a narrative and is written by a man of tliouglit, learning and imagination. I consider ‘ Caesar’s Column ’ tlie l>est work of its elass — prophetic forecasts of the future of civil- ized society — that has appeared since Bulwer’s‘ Com- ing Race.’ The difficulty of conveying without heavi- ness the author’s views as to the elements and organ- ization of a true society has been met witn rarr ability. The views themselves, in their general scope, are sound and wise, and such as those who have the welfare of humanity at heart would re- joice to see realized. There are, of course, almost as many plans of reform as there are reformers, but the present author's scheme is open to as few objections as any that I have seen advanced.
“ I was impressed with tlie power of tlie book — tlie viviilness and strengtii with which the tragic incidents of the tale are described and devel- oped. Tlie plot is absorbing, and yet nothing in it seems forced; and the conception of the column is as original as its treatment is vigorous. There i> no padding in the book: the events are portrayed tersely and clearly. The analysis of the steps which lead society from the point at which it stands to-day. to that which it occupies a century hence, is reasW^- able and sagacious; and the breadth of the authbr s mind, as well as his careful study of social conditions, is made evident by his treatment of the discus5l®iiv put in the mouths of his characters. Justice is doiM to each side. * * * As must always be the case in stories of this type, the characters are the least vftki- able feature of it — though Estalla, in at least one scene, rises to a high dramatic level. But the magni» tude and novelty of the incidents overpower the per- sons. * * * I should not be surprised to see ‘ Column’ attain an immense vogue. It has man> oi the elements of popular success, and is, bcsideikiW earnest and instructive piece of work.” — JULIAN HAWTHORNE.
C/ESAR’S COLUMN
A Story of the Twentieth Century.
BY
EDMUND BOISGILBERT, M. D.
[IGNATIUS DONNELLY.]
“ The true poet is only a masked father-confessor^ whose special function it is to exhibit what is dangerous in sentiment and per- nicious in action, by a vivid picture of the consequences — Goethe,
CHICAGO:
F. J. SCHULTE & COMPANY,
1891.
Copyright, 1890,
By FRANCIS J. SCHULTE.
All Rights Reserved.
i '
i - i ^
SIS
remot
TO THE PUBLIC.
K
^ It is to you, 0 thoughtful and considerate pub* Ip he, that I dedicate this book. May it, under th(‘ J> providence of God, do good to this generation and p posterity !
I I earnestly hope my meaning, in the writing
thereof, may not be misapprehended.
It must not be thought, because I am constrained to describe the overthrow of civilization, that I desire it. The prophet is not responsible for the event he foretells. He may contemplate it with profoundest sorrow. Christ wept over the doom of Jerusalem
Neither am I an anarchist : for I paint a dreadful picture of the world-wreck which successful anarchism would produce.
I seek to preach into the ears of the able and rich and powerful the great truth that neglect of the sufferings of their fellows, indifference to the great bond of brotherhood which lies at the base of Christ- ianity, and blind, brutal and degrading worship of
merewealth, must— given time and pressure enough
eventuate in the overthrow of society and the de- 'j of civilization.
' ^ +1. I come to the churches with my heart filled with
V ::: respect for the essentials of religion-
j . I seek to show them why they have lost their hold
4
CESAR’S COLUMN.
upon the poor, — upon that vast multitude, the best- beloved of God’s kingdom, — and I point out to them how they may regain it. I tell them that if Eeligion is to reassume her ancient station, as crowned mis- tress of the souls of men, she must stand, in shining armor bright, with the serpent beneath her feet, the champion and defender of mankind against all its oppressors.
The world, to-day, clamors for deeds, not creeds ; for bread, not dogma; for charity, not ceremony; for love, not intellect.
Some will say the events herein described are ab- surdly impossible.
Who is it that is satisfied with the present un- happy condition of society ? It is conceded that life is a dark and wretched failure for the great mass of mankind. The many are plundered to enrich the few. Vast combinations depress the price of labor and in- crease the cost of the necessaries of existence. The rich, as a rule, despise the poor; and the popr are coming to hate the rich. The face of labor grows sullen; the old tender Christian love is gone; stand- ing armies are formed on one side, and great com- munistic organizations on the other ; society divides itself into two hostile camps; no white flags pass from the one to the other. They wait only for the drum-beat and the trumpet to summon them to armed conflict.
These conditions have come about in less than a century; most of them in a quarter of a century. Multiply them by the years of another century, and who shall say that the events I depict are impossible? There is an acceleration of movement inhumanaflairs even as there is in the operations of gravity. The
CESAR'S COLUMN.
5
dead missile out of space at last blazes, and the very air takes fire. The masses grow more intelligent as they grow more wretched; and more capable of co- operation as they become more desperate. The labor organizations of to-day would have been impossible fifty years ago. And what is to arrest the flow of effect from cause? What is to prevent the coming of the night if the earth continues to revolve on its axis? The fool may cry out: “There shall be no night!” But the feet of the hours march unrelentingly toward the darkness.
Some may think that, even if all this be true, “ Csesar’s Column ” should not have been published. Will it arrest the moving evil to ignore its presence? What would be thought of the surgeon who, seeing upon his patient’s lip the first nodule of the cancer, tells him there is no danger, and laughs him into se- curity while the roots of the monster eat their way toward the great arteries? If my message be true it should be spoken ; and the world should hear it. The cancer should be cut out while there is yet time. Any other course
“ Will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
While rank corruption, mining all beneath.
Infects unseen.’’
Believing, as I do, that I read the future aright, it would be criminal in me to remain silent. I plead for higher and nobler thoughts in the souls of men ; for wider love and ampler charity in their hearts ; for a renewal of the bond of brotherhood between the classes; for a reign -of justice on earth that shall obliterate the cruel hates and passions which now divide the world.
6
CJESAR^S COLUMN.
If God notices anything so insignificant as this poor book, I pray that he may use it as an instrm mentality of good for mankind ; for he knows I love his human creatures, and would help them if I had the power.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. The Great City 9
II. My Adventure 23
III. The Beggar’s Home 29
IV. The Under-world . 42
V. Estella Washington 51
VI. The Interview . . . . . . . .58
YII. The Hiding-place 70
VIII. The Brotherhood 77
IX. The Poisoned Knife 85
X. PREt>ARATIONS FOR To-NIGHT 99
XI. How THE World Came to be Ruined . . 103
XII. Gabriel’s Utopia 116
XIH. The Council of the Oligarchy . . . 134
XIV. The Spy’s Story 142
XV. The Master of ‘-The Demons” . . . 152
XVI. Gabriel’s Folly 158
XVII. The Flight and Pursuit 161
XVIII. The Fxecution . . . . . . . . 168
XIX. The Mamelukes of the Air . . . . 178
XX. The Workingmen’s Meeting 186
XXI. A Sermon of the Twentieth Century . . 207
XXII. Fstella and I . 223
XXIII. Max’s Story— The Songstress .... 231
XXIV. Max’s Story Continued — The Journeyman
Printer 238
XXV. Max’s Story Continued— The Dark Shadow 248
XXVI. Max’s Story Continued — The Widow and her
Son 257
XXVII. Max’s Story Continued —The Blacksmith Shop 262
XXVIII. Max’s Story Concluded — The Unexpected Hap- pens 265
7
8
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
XXIX. Elysium 278
XXX. Upon the Housetop . . . . . . . 284
XXXI. ‘‘Sheol’’ 289
XXXII. The Rat-tbap 294
XXXIII. “The Ocean Overpeers its List” . . . 299
XXXIV. The Prince Gives his Last Bribe . . . 805
XXXY. The Liberated Prisoner 810
XXXVI. Ca:sar Erects his Monument .... 317
XXXVII. The Second Day 327
XXXVIII. The Flight 834
XXXIX. Europe 344
XL. The Garden in the Mountains . . . . 350
C/ESAR’S COLUMN.
CHAPTER I.
THE GREAT CITY.
[This hook is a series of letters, from Gabriel Weltstein, in New
York, to his brother, Heinrich Weltstein, in the State of
Uganda, Africa.']
New York, Sept. 10, 1988.
My Dear Brother:
Here I am, at last, in the great city. My eyes are weary with gazing, and my mouth speechless with admiration; but in my brain rings perpetually the thought: Wonderful! — wonderful! — most wonder- ful!
What an infinite thing is man, as revealed in the tremendous civilization he has built up ! These swarming, laborious, all-capable ants seem great enough to attack heaven itself, if they could but find a resting-place for their ladders. Who can fix a limit to the intelligence or the achievements of our species?
But our admiration may be here, and our hearts elsewhere. And so from all this glory and splendor I turn back to the old homestead, amid the high moun- tain valleys of Africa ; to the primitive, simple shep- herd-life ; to my beloved mother, to you and to all our dear ones. This gorgeous, gilded room fades away, and I see the leaning hills, the trickling streams, the deep gorges where our woolly thousands graze ;
10
CESAR’S COLUMN.
and I hear once more the echoing Swiss horns of our herdsmen reverberating from the snow-tipped moun- tains.
But my dream is gone. The roar of the mighty city rises around me like the bellow of many cata- racts.
New York contains now ten million inhabitants ; it is the largest city that is, or ever has been, in the world. It is difficult to say wffiere it begins or ends: for the villas extend, in almost unbroken succession, clear to Philadelphia; while east, west and north noble habitations spread out mile after mile, far be- yond the municipal limits.
But the wonderful city ! Let me tell you of it.
As we approached it in our air-ship, coming from the east, we could see, a hundred miles before we reached the continent, the radiance of its millions of magnetic lights, reflected on the sky, like the glare of a great conflagration. These lights are not fed, as in the old time, from electric dynamos, but the magnet- ism of the planet itself is harnessed for the use of man. That marvelous earth-force which the Indians called “the dance of the spirits,” and civilized man designated “the aurora borealis,” is now used to illuminate this great metropolis, with a clear, soft, white light, like that of the full moon, but many times brighter. And the force is so cunningly con- served that it is returned to the earth, without any loss of magnetic power to the planet. Man has simply made a temporary loan from nature for which he pays no interest.
Night and day are all one, for the magnetic light increases antomatically as the day-light wanes ; and the business parts of the city swarm as much at mid-
CJ^SAR'S COLUMN.
11
night as at high noon. In the old times, I am told, part of the streets was reserved for foot-paths for men and women, while the middle was given up to horses and wheeled vehicles ; and one could not pass from side to side without danger of being trampled to death by the horses. But as the city grew it was found that the pavements would not hold the mighty, surging multitudes; they were crowded into the streets, and many accidents occurred. The authorities were at length compelled to exclude all horses from the streets, in the business parts of the city, and raise the central parts to a level with the sidewalks, and give them up to the exclusive use of the pedestrians, erect- ing stone pillars here and there to divide the multi- tude moving in one direction from those flowing in another. These streets are covered with roofs of glass, which exclude the rain and snow, but not the air. And then the wonder and glory of the shops ! They surpass all description. Below all the business streets are subterranean streets, where vast trains are drawn, by smokeless and noiseless electric motors, some carrying passengers, others freight. At every street corner there are electric elevators, by which passengers can ascend or descend to the trains. And high above the house-tops, built on steel pillars, there are other railroads, not like the unsightly elevated trains we saw pictures of in our school books, but crossing diagonally over the city, at a great height, so as to best economize time and distance.
The whole territory between Broadway and the Bowery and Broome Street and Houston Street is occupied by the depot grounds of the great inter-con- tinental air-lines ; and it is an a stonishing sight to see the ships ascending and descending, like monstrous
12
CjESAR’S column.
birds, black with swarming masses of passengers, to or from England, Europe, South America, the Pacific Coast, Australia, China, India and Japan.
These air-lines are of two kinds : the anchored and the independent. The former are hung, by revolving wheels, upon great wires suspended in the air; the wires held in place by metallic balloons, fish-shaped, made of aluminium, and constructed to turn with the wind so as to present always the least sur- face to the air-currents. These balloons, where the lines cross the oceans, are secured to huge fioating islands of timber, which are in turn anchored to the bottom of the sea by four immense metallic cables, extending north, south, east and west, and powerful enough to resist any storms. These artificial islands contain dwellings, in which men reside, who keep up the supply of gas necessary for the balloons. The independent air-lines are huge cigar-shaped balloons, unattached to the earth, moving by electric power, with such tremendous speed and force as to be as little affected by the winds as a cannon ball. In fact, unless the wind is directly ahead the sails of the craft are so set as to take advantage of it like the sails of a ship ; and the balloon rises or falls, as the birds do, by the angle at which it is placed to the wind, the stream of air forcing it up, or pressing it down, as the case may be. And just as the old- fashioned steam-ships were provided with boats, in which the passengers were expected to take refuge, if the ship was about to sink, so the upper decks of these air-vessels are supplied with parachutes, from which are suspended boats ; and in case of accident two sailors and ten passengers are assigned to each parachute; and long practice has taught the bold
CJESAR’S COLUMN.
13
craftsmen to descend gently and alight in the sea, even in stormy weather, with as much adroitness as a sea-gull. In fact, a whole population of air-sailors has grown up to manage these ships, never dreamed of by our ancestors. The speed of these aerial vessels is, as you know, very great— thirty -six hours suffices to pass from New York to London, in ordinary weather. The loss of life has been less than on the old-fashioned steam-ships ; for, as those which go east move at a greater elevation than those going west, there is no danger of collisions ; and they usually fly above the fogs which add so much to the dangers of sea-travel. In case of hurricanes they rise at once to the higher levels, above the storm ; and, with our in- creased scientific knowledge, the coming of a cyclone is known for many days in advance ; and even the stratum of air in which it will move can be foretold.
I could spend hours, my dear brother, telling you of the splendor of this hotel, called The Darwin, in honor of the great English philosopher of the last century. It occupies an entire block from Fifth Ave- nue to Madison Avenue, and from Forty-sixth Street to Forty-seventh. The whole structure consists of an infinite series of cunning adjustments, for the de- light and gratification of the human creature. One object seems to be to relieve the guests from all ne- cessity for muscular exertion. The ancient elevator, or “lift,” as they called it in England, has expanded until now whole rooms, filled with ladies and gentle- men, are bodily carried up from the first story to the roof; a professional musician playing the while on the piano — not the old-fashioned thing our grand- mothers used, but a huge instrument capable of giv- ing forth all sounds of harmony from the trill of a
14
CMSAR'S COLUMN.
nightingale to the thunders of an orchestra. And when you reach the roof of the hotel you find yourself in a glass-covered tropical forest, filled with the per- fume of many fiowers, and bright with the scintillating plumage of darting birds ; all sounds of sweetness fill the air, and many glorious, star-eyed maidens, guests of the hotel, wander half seen amid the foliage, like the houris in the Mohammedan’s heaven.
But as I found myself growing hungry I descended to the dining-room. It is three hundred feet long: a vast multitude were there eating in perfect silence. It is considered bad form here to interrupt digestion with speech, as such a practice tends to draw the vital pow- ers, it is said, away from the stomach to the head. Our forefathers were expected to shine in conversation, and be wise and witty while gulping their food be- tween brilliant passages. I sat down at a table to which I was marshaled by a grave and reverend seign- ior in an imposing uniform. As I took my seat my weight set some machinery in motion. A few feet in front of me suddenly rose out of the table a large upright mirror, or such I took it to be ; but instantly there appeared on its surface a grand bill of fare, each article being numbered. The whole world had been ransacked bo produce the viands named in it; neither the frozen recesses of the north nor the sweltering regions of the south had been spared : every form of food, animal and vegetable, bird, beast, reptile, fish ; the foot of an elephant, the hump of a buffalo, the edible bird-nests of China; snails, spiders, shell-fish, the strange and luscious creatures lately found in the extreme depths of the ocean, and fished for with dyna- mite ; in fact, every form of food pleasant to the palate of man was there. For, as you know, there are men
CJESAR’S COLUMN.
15
who make fortunes now by preserving and breeding the game animals, like the deer, the moose, the elk, the buffalo, the antelope, the mountain sheep and goat, and many others, which but for their care would long since have become extinct. They select barren regions in mild climates, not fit for agriculture, and enclosing large tracts with wire fences, they raise great quantities of these valuable game animals, which they sell to the wealthy gourmands of the great cities, at very high prices.
I was perplexed, and, turning to the great man who stood near me, I began to name a few' of the ar- ticles I wanted. He smiled complacently at my country ignorance, and called my attention to the fact that the table immediately before me contained hundreds of little knobs or buttons, each one num- bered ; and he told me that these w'ere connected by electric wires with the kitchen of the hotel, and if I would observe the numbers attached to any arti- cles in the bill of fare which I desired, and would touch the corresponding numbers of the knobs before me, my dinner would be ordered on a similar mirror in the kitchen, and speedily served. I did as he di- rected. In a little while an electric bell near me rang; the bill of fare disappeared from the mirror ; there was a slight clicking sound ; the table parted in front of me, the electric knobs moving aside ; and up through the opening rose my dinner carefully arranged, as upon a table, which exactly filled the gap caused by the recession of that part of the original table which contained the electric buttons. I need not say I was astonished. I commenced to eat, and immediately the- same bell, which had announced the disappearance of the bill of fare, rang again. I looked up, and the
16
CESAR'S COLUMN.
mirror now contained the name of every state in the Republic, from Hudson’s Bay to the Isthmus of Darien ; and the names of all the nations of the world ; each name being numbered. My attendant, perceiving my perplexity, called my attention to the fact that the sides of the table which had brought up my dinner contained another set of electric buttons, corresponding with the numbers on the mirror ; and he explained to me that if I would select any state or country and touch the corresponding button the news of the day, from that state or country, would appear in the mirror. He called my attention to the fact that every guest in the room had in front of him a similar mirror, and many of them were reading the news of the day as they ate. I touched the knob cor- responding with the name of the new state of Uganda, in Africa, and immediately there appeared in the mirror all the doings of the people of that state — its crimes, its accidents, its business, the output of its mines, the markets, the sayings and doings of its prominent men ; in fact, the whole life of the community was un- rolled before me like a panorama. I then touched the button for another African state, Ny anza ; and at once I began to read of new lines of railroad ; new steam- ship fleets upon the great lake ; of large colonies of white men, settling new states, upon the higher lands of the interior ; of their colleges, books, newspapers ; and particularly of a dissertation upon the genius of Chaucer, written by a Zulu professor, which had cre- ated considerable interest among the learned societies of the Transvaal. I touched the button for China and read the important news that the Republican Congress of that great and highly civilized nation had decreed that English, the universal language of the rest
C^SAICS COLUMN.
17
of the globe, should be hereafter used iii the courts of justice and taught in all the schools. Then came the news that a Manchurian professor, an iconoclast, had written a learned work, in English, to prove that George Washington’s genius and moral greatness had been much over-rated by the partiality of his country- men. He was answered by a learned doctor of Japan^ who argued that the greatness of all great men con- sisted simply in opportunity, and that for every illus- trious name that shone in the pages of history, associated with important events, a hundred abler men had lived and died unknown. The battle was raging hotly, and all China and Japan were dividing into contending factions upon this great issue.
Our poor ignorant ancestors of a hundred years ago drank alcohol in various forms, in quantities which the system could not consume or assimilate, and it de- stroyed their organs and shortened their lives. Great agitations arose until the manufacture and sale of alcoholic beverages was prohibited over nearly all the world. At length the scientists observed that the craving was based on a natural want of the system ; that alcohol was found in small quantities in nearly every article of food ; and that the true course was to so increase the amount of alcohol in the food, without gratifying the palate, as to meet the real necessities of the system, and prevent a decrease of the vital powers.
It is laughable to read of those days when men were drugged with pills, boluses and powders. Now our physic is in our food ; and the doctor prescribes a series of articles to be eaten or avoided, as the case may be. One can see at once by consulting his “ vital- watch,” which shows every change in the magnetic 2
38
CjEBAR’S column.
and electric forces of the body, just how his physical strength wanes or increases ; and he can modify his diet accordingly ; he can select, for instance, a dish highly charged with quinine or iron, and yet perfectly palatable ; hence, among the wealthier classes, a man of one hundred is as common now-a-days as a man of seventy was a century ago; and many go far beyond that point, in full possession of all their facul- ties.
I glanced around the great dining-room and in- spected my neighbors. They all carried the appear- ance of wealth; they were quiet, decorous and courteous. But I could not help noticing that the women, young and old, were much alike in some particulars, as if some general causes had molded them into the same form. Their brows were all fine — broad, square, and deep from the ear forward ; and their jaws also were firmly developed, square like a soldier's ; while the profiles were classic in their regu- larity, and marked by great firmness. The most peculiar feature was their eyes. They had none of that soft, gentle, benevolent look which so adorns the expression of my dear mother and other good women whom we know. On the contrary, their, looks were bold, penetrating, immodest, if I may so express it, almost to fierceness : they challenged you ; they invited yon ; they held intercourse with your soul.
The chief features in the expression of the men were incredulity, unbelief, cunning, observation, heartless- ness. I did not see a good face in the whole room : powerful faces there were, 1 grant you ; high noses, resolute mouths, fine brows; all the marks of shrewd- ness and energy; a forcible and capable race; but that was all. I did not see one, my dear brother, of
CESAR’S COLUMN.
19
whom I could say, “ That man would sacrifice himself for another; that man loves his fellow man.”
I could not but think how universal and irresisti- ble must have been the influences of the age that could mold all these men and women into the same soulless likeness. I pitied them. I pitied mankind, caught in the grip of such wide-spreading tendencies. I said to myself: “Where is it all to end? What are we to expect of a race without heart or honor? What may we look for w'hen the powers of the highest civili- zation supplement the instincts of tigers and wolves ? Can the brain of man flourish when the heart is dead?”
I rose and left the room.
I had observed that the air of the hotel was sweeter, purer and cooler than that of the streets out- side. I asked one of the attendants for an explana- tion. He took me out to where we could command a view of the whole building, and showed me that a great canvas pipe rose high above the hotel, and, tracing it upwards, far as the eye could reach, he pointed out a balloon, anchored by cables, so high up as to be dwarfed to a mere speck against the face of the blue sky. He told me that the great pipe was double ; that through one division rose the hot, ex- hausted air of the hotel, and that the powerful draft so created operated machinery which pumped down the pure, sweet air from a higher region, several miles above the earth ; and, the current once established, the weight of the colder atmosphere kept up the move- ment, and the air was then distributed by pipes to every part of the hotel. He told me also that the hospitals of the city were supplied in the same man- ner ; and the result had been, he said, to diminish the mortality of the sick one-half ; for the air so brought
20
CjESAR’S column.
to them was perfectly free from bacteria and full of all life-giving properties. A company had been organized to supply the houses of the rich with this cold, pure air for so much a thousand feet, as long ago illuminating gas was furnished.
I could not help but think that there was need that some man should open connection with the up- per regions of God’s charity, and bring down the pure beneficent spirit of brotherly love to this afflicted earth, that it might spread through all the tainted hospitals of corruption for the healing of the hearts and souls of the people.
This attendant, a sort of upper-servant, I suppose, was quite courteous and polite, and, seeing that I was a stranger, he proceeded to tell me that the whole city was warmed with hot water, drawn from the profound depths of the earth, and distributed as drinking water was distributed a century ago, in pipes, to all the houses, for a fixed and very reason- able charge. This heat-supply is so uniform and so cheap that it has quite driven out all the old forms of fuel — wood, coal, natural gas, etc.
And then he told me something which shocked me greatly. You know that according to our old-fash- ioned ideas it is unjustifiable for any person to take his own life, and thus rush into the presence of his Maker before he is called. We are of the opinion of Hamlet that God has “fixed his canon ’gainst self- slaughter.” Would you believe it, my dear brother, in this city they actually facilitate suicide ! A race of philosophers has arisen in the last fifty years who argue that, as man was not consulted about his com- ing into the world, he has a perfect right to leave it whenever it becomes uncomfortable. These strange
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arguments were supplemented by the economists, always a powerful body in this utilitarian land, and they urged that, as men could not be prevented from destroying themselves, if they had made up their minds to do so, they might just as well shuffle off the mortal coil in the way that would give least trouble to their surviving fellow-citizens. That, as it was, they polluted the rivers, and even the reservoirs of drinking-water, with their dead bodies,, and put the city to great expense and trouble to recover and iden- tify them. Then came the humanitarians, who said that many persons, intent on suicide, but knowing nothing of the best means of effecting their object, tore themselves to pieces with cruel pistol shots or knife wounds, or took corrosive poisons, which sub- jected them to agonizing tortures for hours before death came to their relief ; and they argued that if a man nad determined to leave the world it was a mat- ter of humanity to help him out of it by the pleasant- est means possible. These views at length prevailed, and now in all the public squares or parks they have erected handsome houses, beautifully furnished, with baths and bed-rooms. If a man has decided to die, he goes there. He is first photographed ; then his name, if he sees fit to give it, is recorded, with his residence ; and his directions are taken as to the disposition of his body. There are tables at which he can write his farewell letters to his friends. A doctor explains to him the nature and effect of the different poisons, and he selects the kind he prefers. He is expected to bring with him the clothes in which he intends to be cre- mated. He swallows a little pill, lies down upon a bed, or, if he prefers it, in his coffln; pleasant music is played for him ; he goes to sleep, and wakes np on the
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other side pf the great line. Every day hundreds of people, men and women, perish in this way ; and they are borne off to the great furnaces for the dead, and consumed . The authorities assert that it is a marked improvement over the old-fashioned methods ; but to my mind it is a shocking combination of impiety and mock-philanthropy. The truth is, that, in this vast, over-crowded city, man is a drug, — a superfluity, — and I think many men and women end their lives out of an overwhelming sense of their own insignificance ; — in other words, from a mere weariness of feeling that they are nothing, they become nothing.
I must bring this letter to an end, but before re- tiring I shall make a visit to the grand parlors of the hotel. You suppose I will walk there. Not at all, my dear brother. I shall sit down in a chair ; there is an electric magazine in the seat of it. I touch a spring, and away it goes. I guide it with my feet. I drive into one of the great elevators. I descend to the drawing- room floor. I touch the spring again, and in a few moments I am moving around the grand salon, steer- ing myself clear of hundreds of similar chairs, occu- pied by fine-looking men or the beautiful, keen-eyed, unsympathetic women I have described. The race has grown in power and loveliness — fear it has lost in lovableness.
Good-by. With love to all, I remain your affec- tionate brother,
Gabriel Weltstein.
CHAPTER II.
MY ADVENTURE.
My Dear Heinrich :
I little supposed when I wrote you yesterday that twenty-four hours could so completely' change my circumstances. Then I was a dweller in the palatial Darwin Hotel, luxuriating in all its magnificence. Now I am hiding in a strange house and trembling for my liberty ; — but I will tell you all.
Yesterday morning, after I had disposed by sample of our wool, and had called upon the assayer of ores, but without finding him, to show him the specimens of our mineral discoveries, I returned to the hotel, and there, after obtaining directions from one of the clerks at the “Bureau of Information,” I took the elevated train to the great Central Park.
I shall not pause to describe at length the splen- dors of this wonderful place ; the wild beasts roaming about among the trees, apparently at dangerous liberty, but really inclosed by fine steel wire fences, almost invisible to the eye ; the great lakes full of the different water fowl of the world ; the air thick with birds distinguished for the sweetness of their song or the brightness of their plumage ; the century-old trees, of great size and artistically grouped ; beautiful chil- dren playing upon the greensward, accompanied by nurses and male servants ; the whole scene constituting a holiday picture. Between the trees everywhere I saw the white and gleaming statues of the many
*3
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hundreds of great men and women who have adorned the history of this country duringthe last two hundred years — poets, painters, musicians, soldiers, philanthropists, statesmen.
After feasting my eyes for some time upon this charming picture of rural beauty, I left the Park. Soon after I had passed through the outer gate, — guarded by sentinels to exclude the ragged and wretched multitude, but who at the same time gave courteous admission to streams of splendid carriages, — I was startled by loud cries of “Look out there!” 1 turned and saw a sight which made my blood run cold. A gray-haired, hump-backed beggar, clothed in rags, was crossing the street in front of a pair of handsome horses, attached to a magnificent open car- riage. The burly, ill-looking flunkey who, clad in gorgeous livery, was holding the lines, had uttered the cry of warning, but at the same time had made no effort to check the rapid speed of his powerful horses. In an instant the beggar was down under the hoofs of the steeds. The flunkey laughed! I was but a few feet distant on the side-walk, and, quick as thought, I had the horses by their heads and pushed them back upon their haunches. At this moment the beggar, who had been under the feet of the horses, crawled out close to the front wheels of the carriage ; and the driver, indignant that anything so contempt- ible should arrest the progress of his magnificent equipage, struck him a savage blow with his whip, as he was struggling to his feet. I saw the whip wind around his neck ; and, letting go the horses’ heads, who were now brought to a stand-still, I sprang for- ward, and as the whip descended for a second blow I caught it, dragged it from the hand of the miscreant.
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and with all my power laid it over him. Each blow where it touched his flesh brought the blood, and two long red gashes appeared instantaneously upon his face. He dropped his lines and shrieked in terror, holding his hands up to protect his face. Fortunately a crowd had assembled, and some poorly dressed men had seized the horses’ heads, or there would have been a run-away. As I raised my hand to lash the brute again, a feminine shriek reached my ears, and I be- came aware that there were ladies in the open ba- rouche. My sense of politeness overcame in an instant my rage, and I stepped back, and, taking off my hat, began to apologize and explain the cause of the diffi- culty. As I did so I observed that the occupants of the carriage were two young ladies, both strikingly handsome, but otherwise very unlike in appearance. The one nearest me, who had uttered the shrieks, was about twenty years of age, I should think, with aquiline features, and black eyes and hair ; every detail of the face was peifect, but there was a bold, common- , place look out of the bright eyes. Her companion instantly arrested all my attention. It seemed to me I had never beheld a more beautiful and striking countenance. She was younger, by two or three years, than her companion ; her complexion was fairer ; her long golden hair fell nearly to her waist, enfolding her like a magniflcent, shining garment ; her eyes were blue and large and set far apart; and there was in them, and in the whole contour of the face, a look of honesty and dignity, and calm intelligence, rarely witnessed in the countenance of woman. She did not appear to be at all alarmed ; and when I told my story of the driver lashing the aged beggar, her face lighted up, and she said, with a look that thrilled me,
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and in a soft and gentle voice: “We are much obliged to you, sir; you did perfectly right.”
I was about to reply, when I felt some one tugging fiercely at my coat, and, turning around, I was sur- prised to find that the beggar was drawing me away from the carriage by main force. I was astonished also at the change in his appearance. The aspect of decrepi- tude had disappeared, a green patch that I had noticed covering one of his eyes had fallen off, and his black eyes shone with a look of command and power that was in marked contrast with his gi’ay hair, his crooked back, and his rags.
“Come,” he said, in a hoarse, whisper, “come .(uickly, or you will be arrested and cast into prison. ”
“What for?” I asked.
“I will tell you hereafter — look!”
I looked around me and saw that a great crowd had collected as if by magic, for this city of ten mill- ions of people so swarms with inhabitants that the slightest excitement will assemble a multitude in a few minutes. I noticed, too, in the midst of the mob, a uniformed policeman. The driver saw him also, and, recovering his courage, cried out, “Arrest him — ar- rest him.” The policeman seized me by the collar. I observed that at that instant the beggar whispered something in his ear: the officer’s hand released its hold upon my coat. The next moment the beggar cried out, “Back I Back I Look out I. Dynamite I ” The crowd crushed back on each other in great confusion ; and I felt the beggar dragging me off, repeating his cry of warning — “Dynamite! Dynamite!” — at every step, until the mob scattered in wild confusion, and I found myself breathless in a small alley. “Come, come, ” cried my companion, “there is no time to lose. ^ Hurry,
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Aurry ! ” We rushed along, for the manner of the beg- gar inspired me with a terror I could not explain, until, after passing through several back streets and small alleys, with which the beggar seemed perfectly familiar, we emerged on a large street and soon took a corner elevator up to one of the railroads in the air which I have described. After traveling for two or three miles we exchanged to another train, and from that to still another, threading our way backward and forward over the top of the great city. At length, as if the beggar thought we had gone far enough to baffle pursuit, we descended upon a bustling business street, and paused at a corner ; and the beggar ap- peared to be looking out for a hack. He permitted a dozen to pass us, however, carefully inspecting the driver of each. At last he hailed one, and we took our seats. He gave some whispered directions to the driver, and we dashed off.
“Throw that out of the window,” he said.
I followed the direction of his eyes and saw that I still held in my hand the gold-mounted whip which I had snatched from the hand of the driver. In my ex- citement I had altogether forgotten its existence, but had instinctively held on to it.
“I will send it back to the owner,” I said.
“No, no; throw it away: that is enough to con- vict you of highway robbery.”
I started, and exclaimed :
“Nonsense; highway robbery to whip a black- guard?”
“Yes. You stop the carriage of an aristocrat; you drag a valuable whip out of the hand of his coachman ; and you carry it off. If that is not high- way robbery, what is it? Throw it away.”
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His manner was imperative. I dropped the whip out of the window and fell into a brown study. I oc- casionally stole a glance at m3' strange companion, who, with the dress of extreme poverty, and the gray hair of old age, had such a manner of authority and such an air of promptitude and decision.
After about a half-hour’s ride we stopped at ijhe corner of two streets in front of a plain but respect- able-looking house. It seemed to be in the older part of the town. My companion paid the driver and dis- missed him, and, opening the door, we entered.
I need not say that I began to think this man was something more than a beggar. But why this dis- guise ? And who was he ?
CHAPTEE III.
THE beggar’s home.
The HOtJSE we entered was furnished with a degree of splendor of which the external appearance gave no prophecy. We passed up the stairs and into a hand- some room, hung around with pictures, and adorned with book-cases. The beggar left me.
I sat for some time looking at my surroundings, and wondering over the strange course of events which had brought me there, and still more at the ac- tions of my mysterious companion. I felt assured now that his rags were simply a disguise, for he entered the house with all the air of a master ; his language was well chosen and correctly spoken, and possessed those subtle tones and intonations which mark an educated mind. I was thinking over these matters when the door opened and a handsome young gentle- man, arrayed in the height of the fashion, entered the room. I rose to my feet and began to apologize for my intrusion and to explain that I had been brought there by a beggar to whom I had rendered some trifling service in the street. The young gentleman listened, with, a smiling face, and then, ex- tending his hand, said :
“I am the beggar; and I do now what only the hurry and excitement prevented me from doing before -—I thank you for the life j^ou have saved. If you had not come to my rescue I should probably have been trampled to death under the feet of those
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vicious horses, or sadly beaten at least by that brutal driver.”
The expression of my face doubtless showed my ex- treme astonishment, for he proceeded :
“I see you are surprised; but there are many strange things in this great city. I was disguised for a particular purpose, which I cannot explain to you. But may I not request the name of the gentleman to whom I am under so many obligations? Of course, if you have any reasons for concealing it, consider the question as not asked.”
“No,” I replied, smiling, “I have no concealments. My name is Gabriel Weltstein ; I live in the new state of Uganda, in the African confederation, in the mountains of Africa, near the town of Stanley; and I am engaged in sheep-raising, in the mountains. I be- long to a colony of Swiss, from the canton of Uri, who, led by my grandfather, settled there seventy years ago. I came to this city yesterday to see if I could not sell my wool directly to the manufacturers, and thus avoid the extortions of the great Wool Ring, which has not only our country but the w'hole world in its grasp; but I find the manufacturers are tied hand and foot, and afraid of that powerful conibination ; they do not dare to deal with me; and thus I shall have to dispose of my product at the old price. It is a shameful state of affairs in a country which calls itself free.”
“Pardon me for a moment,” said the young gentleman, and left the room. On his return I resumed :
“ But now that I have told you who I am, will you be good enough to tell me something about yourself? ”
“Certainly,” he replied, “and with pleasure. I am
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a native of this city ; my name is Maximilian Petion ; by profession I am an attorney ; I live in this house with my mother, to whom I shall soon have the pleasure of introducing you.”
“Thank you,” I replied, still studying the face of my new acquaintance. His complexion was dark, the eyes and hair almost black ; the former very bright and penetrating; his brow was high, broad and square ; his nose was prominent, and there was about the mouth an expression of firmness, not unmixed with kindness. Altogether it Avas a face to inspire re- spect and confidence. But I made up my mind not to trusttoo much to appearances. I could not forget the transformation which I had witnessed, from the rags of the ancient beggar to this well-dressed young gentleman. I knew that the criminal class were much given to such disguises. I thought it better there- fore to ask some questions that might throw light upon the subject.
“May I inquire,” I said, “what were your reasons for hurrying me aw^ay so swiftly and mysteriously from the gate of the Park? ”
“Because,” he replied, “you were in great danger, and you had rendered me a most important service. I could not leave you there to be arrested, and punished with a long period of imprisonment, because, follow- ing the impulse of your heart, you had saved my life and scourged the wretch who w'ould have driven his horses over me.”
“But why should I be punished with a long term of imprisonment? In my own country the act I performed w’ould have received the applause of every one. Why did you not tell me to throw away that whip on the instant, so as to avoid the appearance of
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stealing it, and then remain to testify in my behalf if I had been arrested ? ”
“Then you do not know,” he replied, “whose driver it was you horsewhipped?”
“No,” I said; “how should I? I arrived here but yesterday.”
“That was the carriage of Prince Cabano, the wealthiest and most vindictive man in the city. If you had been taken you would have been consigned to imprisonment for probably many years.”
“Many years,” I replied ; “ imprisoned for beating an insolent driver ! Impossible. No jury would con- vict me of such an offense.”
“ Jury !”he said, with a bitter smile; “itis plain to see you are a stranger and come from a newly settled part of the world, and know nothing of our modern civilization. The jury would do whatever Prince Ca- bano desired them to do. Our courts, judges and juries are the merest tools of the rich. The image of justice has slipped the bandage from one eye, and now uses her scales to weigh the bribes she receives. An ordi- nary citizen has no more prospect of fair treatment in our courts, contending with a millionaire, than a new- born infant would have of life in the den of a wolf.”
“But,” I replied, rather hotly, “I should appeal for justice to the public through the newspapers.”
“The newspapers! ” he said, and his face darkened as he spoke; “ the newspapers are simply the hired mouthpieces of power; the devil’s advocates of mod- ern civilization ; their influence is always at the serv- ice of the highest bidder ; it is their duty to suppress or pervert the truth, and they do it thoroughly. They are paid to mislead the people under the guise of de- fending them. A century ago this thing began, and
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it has gone on, growing worse and worse, until now the people laugh at the opinions of the press, and doubt the truth even of its reports of occurrences.”
“ Can this be possible? ” I said.
“Let me demonstrate it to you,” he replied, and, stepping to the wall, he spoke quietly into a telephone tube, of which there were a number ranged upon the wall, and said :
“ Give me the particulars of the whipping of Prince Cabano’s coachman, this afternoon, at the south gate of Central Park.”
Almost immediately a bell rang, and on the op- posite wall, in what I had supposed to be a mirror, appeared these words :
From the Evening Guardian:
A Hokrible Outrage!
Highway Eobbery!“One Thousand Dollars Eeward!
This afternoon, about three o’clock, an event transpired at the south gate of Central Park which shows the turbulent and vicious spirit of the lower classes, and reinforces the demand we have so often made for repressive measures and a stronger gov- ernment.
As the carriage of our honored fellow-citizen Prince Cabano, containing two ladies, members of his family, was quietly entering the Park, a tall, powerful ruffian, apparently a stranger, with long yellow hair, reaching to his shoulders, suddenly grasped a valuable gold-mounted whip out of the hands of the driver, and, because he resisted the robbery, beat him across the face, inflicting very severe wounds. The horses became very much terrifled, and but for the fact that two worthy men, John Henderson of 5222 Delavan Street, and William Brooks of 7322 Bismarck Street, seized them by the head, a terrible accident would undoubtedly have occurred. Policeman number B 17822 took the villain prisoner, but he knocked the guardian of the law down and escaped, accompanied by a ragged old fellow who seemed to have been his accomplice. It is believed that the purpose of the thieves was to rob the occupants
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of the carriage, as the taller one approached the ladies, but just then his companion saw the policeman coming and gave him warning, and they fled together. Prince Cabano is naturally very much incensed at this outrage, and has offered a reward of one thousand dollars for the apprehension of either of the ruffians. They have been tracked for a considerable distance by the detectives; but after leaving the elevated cars all trace of them was suddenly and mysteriously lost. The whip was subsequently found on Bomba Street and identified. Neither of the criminals is known to the police. The taller one was quite young and fairly well dressed, and not ill-looking, while his companion had the appearance of a beggar, and seemed to be about seventy years of age. The Chief of Police will pay liberally for any information that may lead to the arrest of the robbers.
“There,” said my companion, “what do you think of that?”
I need not say that I was paralyzed with this adroit mingling of fact and falsehood. I realized for the first time the perils of my situation. I was a stranger in the great city, without a friend or ac- quaintance, and hunted like a felon ! While all these thoughts passed through my brain, there came also a pleasing fiashof remembrance of that fair face, and that sweet and gentle smile, and that beaming look of gratitude and approval of my action in whipping the brutal driver. But if my new acquaintance was right; if neither courts nor juries nor newspapers nor public opinion could be appealed to for justice or protection, then indeed might I be sent to prison as a malefactor, for a term of years, for performing a most righteous act. If it was true, and I had heard something of the same sort in my far-away African home, that money ruled everything in this great country ; and if his offended lordship desired to crush me, he could certainly do so. While I was buried in these refiections I had not failed to notice that an
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electric bell rang upon the side of the chamber and a small box opened, and the young gentleman advanced and took from the box a sheet of tissue paper, closely written. I recognized it as a telegram. He read it carefully, and I noticed him stealing glances at me, as if comparing the details of my appearance with something written on the paper. When he finished he advanced toward me, with a brighter look on his face, and, holding out his hand, said :
“I have already hailed you as my benefactor, my preserver ; permit me now to call you my friend.”
“Why do you say so?” I asked.
“Because,” he replied, “I now know that every statement you made to me about yourself is literally true ; and that in your personal character you deserve the respect and friendship of all men. You look per- plexed. Let me explain. You told me some little time since your name and place of residence. I be- long to a society which has its ramifications all over the world. When I stepped out of this room I sent an inquiry to the town near which you reside, and asked if such a person as you claimed to be lived there ; what was his appearance, standing and char- acter, and present residence. I shall not shock your modesty by reading the reply I have just received. You will pardon this distrust, but we here in the great city are suspicious, and properly so, of strangers, and even more so of each other. I did not know but that you were in the employment of the enemies of our society, and sought to get into my confidence by rendering me a service, — for the tricks to which the detectives resort are infinite. I now trust you implicitly, and you can command me in every- thing.”
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I took his hand warmly and thanked him cordially. It was impossible to longer doubt that frank and beaming face.
“ But,” I said, “ are we not in great danger? Will not that hackman, for the sake of the reward, inform the police of our whereabouts? ”
“No!” he said; “have no fears upon that score. Did you not observe that I permitted about a dozen hacks to pass me before I hailed the one that brought us here? That man wore on his dress a mark that told me he belonged to our Brotherhood. He knows that if he betrays us he will die within twenty-four hours, and that there is no power on earth could save him ; if he fled to the uttermost ends of the earth his doom would overtake him with* the certainty of fate. So have no uneasiness. We are as safe here as if a standing army of a hundred thousand of our defenders surrounded this house.”
“Is that the explanation,” I asked, “of the police- man releasing his grip upon my coat? ”
“Yes,” he replied, quietly.
“Now,” said I, “who is this Prince Cabano, and how does he happen to be called Prince ? I thought your Eepublic eschewed all titles of nobility.”
“ So it does,” he replied, “ by law. But we have a great many titles which are used socially, by courtesy. The Prince, for instance, when he comes to sign his name to a legal document, writes it Jacob Isaacs. But his father, when he grew exceedingly rich and ambitious, purchased a princedom in Italy for a large sum, and the government, being hard up for money, conferred the title of Prince with the estate. His son,’ the present Isaacs, succeeded, of course, to his estates and his title.”
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“ ‘ Isaacs,’ ” I said, “is a Jewish name? ”
“ Yes,” he replied, “the aristocracy of the world is now almost altogether of Hebrew origin.”
“Indeed,” I asked, “how does that happen?”
“ Well,” he replied, “it was the old question of the survival of the fittest. Christianity fell upon the Jews, originally a race of agriculturists and shep- herds, and forced them, for many centuries, through the most terrible ordeal of persecution the history of mankind bears any record of. Only the strong of body, the cunning of brain, the long-headed, the per- sistent, the men with capacity to live where a dog would starve, survived the awful trial. Like breeds like ; and now the Christian world is paying, in tears and blood, for the sufferings inflicted by their bigoted and ignorant ancestors upon a noble race. When the time came for liberty and fair play the Jew was master in the contest with the Gentile, who hated and feared him.
“ They are the great money-getters of the world. They rose from dealers in old clothes and peddlers of hats to merchants, to bankers, to princes. They were as merciless to the Christian as the Christian had been to them. They said, with Shylock : ‘ The villainy you teach me I will execute; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.’ The ‘wheel of fortune has come full circle;’ and the descendants of the old peddlers now own and inhabit the palaces where their ancestors once begged at the back doors for second-hand clothes; while the posterity of the former lords have been, in many cases, forced down into the swarming misery of the lower classes. This is a sad world, and to contemplate it is enough to make a man a philosopher; but he will scarcely know
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whether to belong to the laughing or the weeping school — ^whether to follow the example of Democritus or Heraclitus.”
“And may I ask,” I said, “what is the nature of your society? ”
“I cannot tell you more at this time,” he replied, “ than that it is a political secret society having a membership of millions, and extending all over the world. Its purposes are the good of mankind. Some day, I hope, you may learn more about it. Come,” he added, “let me show you my house, and introduce you to my mother.”
Touching a secret spring in the wall, a hidden door flew open, and we entered a small room. I thought I had gotten into the dressing-room of a theater. Around the walls hung a multitude of costumes, male and female, of different sizes, and suited for all condi- tions of life. On the table were a collection of bottles, holding what I learned were hair dyes of different colors; and there was also an assortment of wigs, beards and mustaches of all hues. I thought I recognized among the former the coarse white hair of the quondam beggar. I pointed it out to him.
“Yes,” he said, with a laugh, “I will not be able to wear that for some time to come.”
Upon another table there was a formidable array of daggers, pistols and guns; and some singular-look- ing iron and copper things, which he told me were cartridges of dynamite and other deadly explosives.
I realized that my companion was a conspirator. But of what kind? I could not believe evil of him. There was a manliness and kindliness in his face which forbade such a thought; although the square chin and projecting jaws and firm-set mouth indicated a
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nature that could be most dangerous ; and I noticed sometimes a restless, wild look in his eyes.
I followed him into another room, where he intro- duced me to a sweet-faced old lady, with the same broad brow and determined, but gentle, mouth which so distinguished her son. It was evident that there was great love between them, although her face wore a troubled and anxious look, at times, as she regarded him. It seemed to me that she knew he was engaged in dangerous enterprises.
She advanced to me with a smile and grasped both my hands with her own, as she said :
‘ ‘ My son has already told me that you have this day rendered him and me an inestimable service. I need not say that I thank you with all my heart.”
I made light of the matter and assured her that I was under greater obligations to her son than he was to me. Soon after we sat down to dinner, a sumptuous meal, to which it seemed to me all parts of the world had contributed. We had much pleas- ant conversation, for both the host and hostess were persons of ripe information. In the old days our an- cestors wasted years of valuable time in the study of languages that were no longer spoken on the earth; and civilization was thus cramped by the shadow of the ancient Koman Empire, whose dead but sceptered sovereigns still ruled the spirits of mankind from their urns. Now every hour is considered precious for the accumulation of actual knowdedge of facts and things, and for the cultivation of the graces of the mind; so that mankind has become wise in breadth of knowledge, and sweet and gentle in manner. I ex- pressed something of this thought to Maximilian, ^nd he replied :
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“ Yes ; it is the greatest of pities that so noble and beautiful a civilization should have become so hollow and rotten at the core.”
“Rotten at the core!” I exclaimed, in astonish- ment; “what do you mean?”
“ What I mean is that our civilization has grown to be a gorgeous shell ; a mere mockery ; a sham ; outwardly fair and lovely, but inwardly full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. To think that man- kind is so capable of good, and now so cultured and polished, and yet all above is cruelty, craft and de- struction, and all below is suffering, wretchedness, sin and shame.”
“ What do you mean?” I asked.
“That civilization is a gross and dreadful failure for seven-tenths of the human family; that seven- tenths of the backs of the world are insufficiently clothed ; seven-tenths of the stomachs of the world are insufficiently fed ; seven-tenths of the minds of the world are darkened and despairing, and fflled with bit- terness against the Author of the universe. It is piti- ful to think what society is, and then to think what it might have been if our ancestors had not cast away their magnificent opportunities — had not thrown them into the pens of the swine of greed and gluttony.”
“But,” I replied, “the world does not look to me after that fashion. I have been expressing to my family my delight at viewing the vast triumphs of man over nature, by which the most secret powers of the universe have been captured and harnessed for the good of our race. Why, my friend, this city preaches at every pore, in every street and alley, in every shop and factory, the greatness of humanity, the splendor of civilization I ”
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“True, my friend,” replied Maximilian ; “but you see only the surface, the shell, the crust of life in this great metropolis. To-morrow we will go out to- gether, and I shall show you the fruits of our modern civilization. I shall take you, not upon the upper deck of society, where the flags are flying, the breeze blow- ing, and the music playing, but down into the darit and stuffy depths of the hold of the great vessel, where the sweating gnomes, in the glare of the furnace- heat, furnish the power which drives the mighty ship resplendent through the seas of time. We will visit the Z7z2c7er-Wor7(f.”
But I must close for to night, and subscribe my- self affectionately your brother,
GABRIEL.
CHAPTER IV.
THE UNDER-WORLD.
My Dear Heinrich:
Since I wrote you last night I have been through dreadful scenes. I have traversed death in life, I have looked with my very eyes on Hell. I am sick at heart. My soul sorrows for humanity.
Max (for so I have come to call my new-found friend) woke me very early, and we breakfasted by lamp-light.
Yesterday he had himself dyed my fair locks of a dark brown, almost black hue, and had cut off some of my hair’s superfluous length. Then he sent for a tailor, who soon arrayed me in garments of the latest fashion and most perfect fit. Instead of the singular- looking mountaineer of the day before, for whom the police were diligently searching, and on whose head a reward of one thousand dollars had been placed (never before had my head been valued so highly), there was nothing in my appearance to distinguish me from the thousands of other gallant young gentle- men of this great city.
A carriage waited for us at the door. We chatted together as we drove along through the quiet streets.
I asked him :
“Are the degraded, and even the vicious, members ofj^our Brotherhood?”
“No ; not the criminal class,” he replied, “ for there is nothing in their wretched natures on which you can
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build confidence or trust. Only those who have fiber enough to persist in labor, under conditions which so strongly tend to drive them into crime, can be mem- bers of our Brotherhood.”
“ May I ask the number of your membership?”
“In the whole world they amount to more than one hundred millions.”
I started with astonishment.
“But amid such numbers,” I said, “there must certainly be some traitors?”
“True, but the great multitude have nothing to tell. They are the limbs and members, as it were, of the organization; the directing intelligence dwells elsewhere. The multitude are like the soldiers of an army ; they will obey when the time comes ; but they are not taken into the councils of war.”
A half hour’s ride brought us into the domain of the poor.
An endless procession of men and women with pails and baskets — small-sized pails and smaller baskets — streamed along the streets on their way to work. It was not yet six o ’clock . I observed that both m en an d women were undersized, and that they all very much resembled each other; as if similar circumstances had squeezed them into the same likeness. There was no spring to their steps and no laughter in their eyes ; all were spare of frame and stolid or hungry- looking. The faces of the middle-aged men were hag- gard and wore a hopeless expression. Many of them scowled at us, with a look of hatred, as we passed by them ill our carriage. A more joyless, sullen crowd I never beheld. Street after street they unrolled be- fore us; there seemed to be millions of them. They were all poorly clad, and many of theip in rags, The
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women, with the last surviving instinct of the female heart, had tried to decorate themselves; and here and there I could observe a bit of bright color on bonnet or apron; but the bonnets represented the fashions of ten years past, and the aprons were too often frayed and darned, the relics of some former, more opulent owners. There were multitudes of children, but they were without the gambols which character- ize the young of all animals ; and there was not even the chirp of a winter bird about them ; their faces were prematurely aged and hardened, and their bold eyes revealed that sin had no surprises for them. And every one of these showed that intense look which marks the awful struggle for food and life upon which they had just entered. The multitude seemed, so far as I could judge, to be of all nations com- mingled— the French, German, Irish, English — Hun- garians, Italians, Russians, Jews, Christians, and even Chinese and Japanese; for the slant eyes of many, and their imperfect, Tartar-like features, re- minded me that the laws made by the Republic, in the elder and better days, against the invasion of the Mongolian hordes, had long since become a dead letter.
What struck me most was their incalculable multi- tude and their silence. It seemed to me that I was witnessing the resurrection of the dead; and that these vast, streaming, endless swarms were the con- demned, marching noiselessly as shades to unavoida- ble and everlasting misery. They seemed to me merely automata, in the hands of some ruthless and unrelenting destiny. They lived and moved, but they were without heart or hope. The illusions of the imagination, which beckon all of us forward, even
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over the roughest paths and tlirough the darkest valleys and shadows of life, had departed fronx the scope of their vision. They knew that to-morrow could bring them nothing better than to-day — the same shameful, pitiable, contemptible, sordid struggle for a mere existence. If they produced children it was reluctantly or unmeaningly; for they knew the wretches must tread in their footsteps, and enter, like them, that narrow, gloomy, high-walled pathway, out of which they could never climb; which began almost in infancy and ended in a pauper’s grave — nay, I am wrong, not even in a pauper’s grave ; for they might have claimed, perhaps, some sort of own- ership over the earth which enfolded them, which touched them and mingled with their dust. But pub- lic safety and the demands of science had long ago decreed that they should be whisked off, as soon as dead, a score or two at a time, and swept on iron tram-cars into furnaces heated to such intense white heat that they dissolved, crackling, even as they entered the chamber, and rose in nameless gases through the high chimney. That towering structure was the sole memorial monument of millions of them. Their graveyard was the air. Nature reclaimed her own with such velocity that she seemed to grudge them the very dust she had lent them during their wretched pilgrimage. The busy, toiling, rushing, roaring, groaning universe, big with young, appeared to cry out; “Away with them! Away with them!
. They have had their hour ! They have performed their task. Here are a billion spirits waiting for the substance we loaned them. The spirits are bonndless in number; matter is scarce. Away with them I”
I need not tell you, my dear brother, of all the
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shops and factories we visited. It was the same story everywhere. Here we saw exemplified, in its full per- fection, that “iron law of wages” which the old econ- omists spoke of; that is to say, the reduction, by competition, of the wages of the worker to the least sum that will maintain life and muscular strength enough to do the work required, with such little sur- plus of vitality as might be necessary to perpetuate the wretched race; so that the world’s work should not end with the death of one starved generation. I do not know if there is a hell in the spiritual universe, but if there is not, one should certainly be created for the souls of the men who originated, or justified, or en- forced that damnable creed. It is enough, if nothing else, to make one a Christian, when he remembers how diametrically opposite to the teaching of the grand doctrine of brotherly love, enunciated by the gentle Nazarene, is this devil’s creed of cruelty and murder, with all its steadily increasing world -horrors, before which to-day the universe stands appalled.
Oh ! the pitiable scenes, my brother, that I have witnessed ! Eoom after room ; the endless succession of the stooped, silent toilers; old, young; men, women, children. And most pitiable of all, the leering, shameless looks of invitation cast upon us by the women, as they saw two well-dressed men pass by them. It was not love, nor license, nor even lust ; it was degradation, — willing to exchange everything for a little more bread. And such rooms — garrets, sheds — dark, foul, gloomy; overcrowded; with such a stench in the thick air as made us gasp when entering it ; an atmosphere full of life, hostile to the life of man. Think, my brother, as you sit upon your mountain side; your gentle sheep feeding around
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you ; breathing the exquisite air of those elevated re- gions ; and looking off over the mysterious, ancient world, and the great river valleys leading down to that marvelous Nile-laud afar,— land of temples, ruins, pyramids,— cradle of civilization, grave of buried empires,— think, I say, of these millions con- demned to live their brief, hopeless span of existence under such awful conditions! See them as they eat their mid-day meal. No delightful pause from pleasant labor; no brightly arrayed table; no laughing and loving faces around a plenteous board, with delicacies from all parts of the world ; no agreeable interchange of wisdom and wit and courtesy and merriment. No ; none of these. Without stop- ping in their work, under the eyes of sullen task-mas- ters, they snatch bites out of their hard, dark bread, like wild animals, and devour it ravenously.*
Toil, toil, toil, from early morn until late at night; then home they swarm ; tumble into their wretched beds ; snatch a few hours of disturbed sleep, battling with vermin, in a polluted atmosphere ; and then up again and to work ; and so on, and on, in endless, mirthless, hopeless round ; until, in a few years, con- sumed with disease, mere rotten masses of painful wretchedness, they die, and are wheeled off to the great furnaces, and their bodies are eaten up by the flames, even as their lives have been eaten up by society.
I asked one of the foremen what wages these men
*The testimony taken before the Parliamentary Commission in 1888 shows that the workers in the “sweating” shops of Lon- don worked in this way, even at that time, for fifteen and sixteen hours a day, and ate their meals in the manner described in the text.
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and women received. He told me. It seemed impos- sible that human life could be maintained upon such a pittance. I then asked whether they ever ate meat. “No,” he said, “except when they had aratormouse.” “A rat or mouse!” I exclaimed. “Oh yes,” he replied, “the rats and mice were important articles of diet, — just as they had been for centuries in China. The little children, not yet able to work, fished for them in the sewers, with hook and line, precisely as they had done a century ago in Paris, during the great German siege. A dog,” he added, “was a great treat. When the authorities killed the vagrant hounds there was a big scramble among the poor for the bodies.”
I was shocked at these statements ; and then I remembered that some philosopher had argued that cannibalism had survived almost to our own times, in the islands of the Pacific Ocean, because they had contained no animals of large size with Avhich the in- habitants could satisfy the dreadful craving of the system for flesh-food ; and hence they devoured their captives.
“Do these people ever marry?” I inquired.
“ Marry ! ” he exclaimed, with a laugh ; “ why, they could not afford to pay the fee required by law. And why should they marry? There is no virtue among them. No,” he said, “they had almost gotten down to the condition of the Australian savages, who, if not prevented by the police, would consummate their animal-like nuptials in the public streets.”
Maximilian told me that this man was one of the Brotherhood. I did not wonder at it.
From the shops and mills of honest industry, Maxi- milian led me — it was still broad [daylight — into the criminal quarters. We saw the wild beasts in their
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lairs ; in the iron cages of cii’cumstance which civiliza- tion has built around them, from which they too readily break out to desolate their fellow-creatures. But here, too, were the fruits of misgovernment. If it were possible we might trace back from yonder robber and murderer — a human hyena — the long ancestral line of brutality, until we see it starting from some poor peasant of the Middle Ages, trampled into crime under the feet of feudalism. The little seed of weak- ness or wickedness has been carefully nursed by so- ciety, generation after generation, until it has blos- somed at last in this destructive monster. Civilization has formulated a new variety of the genus homo — and it must inevitably perpetuate its kind.
The few prey on the many ; and in turn a few of the many prpy upon all. These are the brutal viola- tors of justice, who go to prison, or to the scaffold, for breaking through a code of laws under which peaceful but universal injustice is wrought. If there were enough of these outlaws they might establish a system of jurisprudence for the world under which it would be lawful to rob and murder by the rule of the strong right hand, but criminal to reduce millions to wretchedness by subtle and cunning arts; and, hoity- toity, the prisons would change their tenants, and the brutal plunderers of the few would give place to the cultured spoilers of the many.
And when you come to look at it, my brother, how shall we compare the condition of the well-to-do man, who has been merely robbed of his watch and purse, even at the cost of a broken head, which will heal in a few days, with the awful doom of the poor multitude, who from the cradle to the grave work without joy and live without hope? Who is there that would 4
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take back bis watch and purse at the cost of chang- ing places with one of these wretches?
And who is there that, if the choice were presented to him, would not prefer instant death, which is but a change of conditions, a flight from world to world, or at worst annihilation, rather than to be hurled into the living tomb which I have depicted, there to grovel and writhe, pressed down by the sordid mass around him, until death comes to his relief?
And so it seems to me that, in the final analysis of reason, the great criminals j’of the world are not these wild beasts, who break through all laws, whose selfishness takes the form of the bloody knife, the fire- brand, or the bludgeon ; but those who, equally selfish, coi-rupt the fountains of government and create laws and conditions by which millions suffer, and out of which these murderers and robbers naturally and un- avoidably arise.
But I must bring this long letter to a conclusion, and subscribe myself, with love to all.
Your affectionate brother,
GABRIEL.
CHAPTER V.
ESTELLA WASHINGTON.
My Dear Heinrich:
One morning after breakfast, Max and I were seated intbe library, enjoying our matutinal cigars, when, the conversation flagging, I asked Maximilian whether he had noticed the two young ladies who were in the Prince of Cabano’s carriage the morning I whipped the driver. He replied that he had not ob- served them particularly, as he was too much excited and alarmed for my safety to pay esp*eeial attention to anything else; but he had seen that there were two young women in the barouche, and his glance had shown him they were both handsome.
“Have you any idea who they were?” I asked after a pause, for I shrank from revealing the interest I took in one of them.
“No,” said he, indifferently; “probably a couple of the Prince’s mistresses.”
The word stung me like an adder ; and I half rose from my chair, my face suffused and my eyes indignant.
“Why, what is the matter?” asked Maximilian; “I hope I have said nothing to offend you.”
I fell back in my chair, ashamed of the exhibition of feeling into which I had been momentarily be- trayed, and replied :
“Oh, no; but I am sure you are wrong. If you had looked, for but a moment, at the younger of the two, you would never have made such a remark.”
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“■ I meant no harm,” he answered, “ but the Prince is a widower; he has a perfect harem in his palace; he has his agents at work everywhere buying up handsome women ; and when I saw two such in his carriage, I naturally came to the conclusion that they were of that character.”
“ Buying up women ! ” I exclaimed ; “what are you talking about ? This is free America, and the twen- tieth century. Do you dream that it is a Moham- medan land ? ”
“It isn’t anything half so good,” he retorted; “it is enslaved America; and the older we grow the worse for us. There was a golden age once in America — an age of liberty ; of comparatively equal distribution of wealth; of democratic institutions. Now we have but the shell and semblance of all that. We are a Kepublic only in name; free only informs. Moham- medanism— and we must do the Arabian prophet the justice to say that he established a religion of temper- ance and cleanliness, without a single superstition — never knew, in its worst estate, a more complete and abominable despotism than that under which we live. And as it would be worse to starve to death in sight of the most delicious viands than in the midst of a food- less desert, so the very assertions, constantly dinned in our ears by the hireling newspapers, that we are the freest people on earth, serve only to make our slavery more bitter and unbearable. But as to the buying up of women for the harems of the w'ealthy, that is an old story, my dear friend. More than a century ago the editor of a leading journal in London was imprisoned for exposing it. The virtuous com- munity punished the man who protested against the sin, and took the sinners to its loving bosom. And
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in this last century matters have grown evei’y day worse and worse. Starvation overrides all morali- ties; the convictions of the mind give way to the necessities of the body. The poet said long ago :
“‘Women are not
In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure The ne’er-touched vestal.’
“But he need not have confined this observation to women. The strongest resolves of men melt in the fire of want like figures of wax. It is simply a ques- tion of increasing the pressure to find the point where virtue inevitably breaks. Morality, in man or woman, is a magnificent fiower which blossoms only in the rich soil of prosperity : impoverish the land and the bloom withers. If there are cases that seem to you otherwise, it is simply because the pressure has not been great enough; sufficient nourishment has not yet been withdrawn from the soil. Dignity, decency, honor, fade away when man or woman is reduced to shabby, shameful, degrading, cruel wretchedness. Be- fore the clamors of the stomach the soul is silent.”
“I cannot believe that,” I replied; “look at the martyrs who have perished in the fiames for an opinion.”
“Yes,” he said, “it is easy to die in an ecstasy of enthusiasm for a creed, with all the world looking on ; to exchange life for eternal glory ; but put the virgin, who would face without shrinking the fiames or the wild beasts of the arena, into some wretched garret, in some miserable all6y, surrounded by the low, the ignorant, the vile; close every avenue and prospect of hope ; shut off every ennobling thought or sight or deed ; and then subject the emaciated frame to end-
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less toil and hopeless hunger, and the very fibers of the soul will rot under the debasing ordeal; and there is nothing left but the bare animal, that must be fed at whatever sacrifice. And remember, my dear fellow, that chastity is a flower of civilization. Barbarism knows nothing of it. The woman with the least is, among many tribes, most highly es- teemed, and sought after by the young men for wedlock.”
“My dear Maximilian,” I said, “these are debas- ing views to take of life. Purity is natural to woman. You will see it oftentimes among savages. But, to recur to the subject we were speaking of. I feel very confident that the younger of those two women I saw in that carriage is pure. God never placed such a majestic and noble countenance over a corrupt soul. The face is transparent ; the spirit looks out of the great eyes; and it is a spirit of dignity, nobleness, grace and goodness.”
“Why,” said he, laughing, “the barbed arrow of Master Cupid, my dear Gabriel, has penetrated quite through all the plates of your philosophy.”
“I will not confess that,” I replied; “but I will ad- mit that I would like to know something more about that young lady, for I never saw a face that inter- ested me half so much.”
“Now,” said he, “see what it is to have a friend. I can find out for you all that is known about her. We have members of our society in the household of every rich man in New York. I will first find out who she is. I will ask the Master of the Servants, who is a member of our Brotherhood, who were the two ladies out rid- ing at the time of our adventure. I can communicate with him in cipher.”
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He went to the wall; touched a’spring; a door flew open; a receptacle containing pen, ink and paper appeared ; he wrote a message, placed it in an interior cavity, which connected with a pneumatic tube, rang a bell, and in a few minutes another bell rang, and he withdrew from a similar cavity a written message. He read out to me the following :
“The elder lady. Miss Frederika Bowers; the younger. Miss Estella Washington; both members of the Prince of Cabano’s household.”
“ Estella Washington,” I repeated ; “ a noble name. Can you tell me anything about her ? ”
‘^Certainly,” he replied; “we have a Bureau of In- quiry connected with our society, and we possess the most complete information, not only as to our own members, but as to almost every one else in the community of any note. Wait a moment.”
He opened the same receptacle in the wall, wrote a few words on a sheet of paper, and dispatched it by the pneumatic tube to the central office of that dis- trict, whence it was forwarded at once to its address. It was probably fifteen minutes before the reply ar- rived. It read as follows :
Miss Estella Washington.— Aged eighteen. Appearance: Per- son tall and graceful ; complexion fair ; eyes blue ; hair long and golden; face handsome. Pedigree: A lineal descendant of Law- rence Washington, brother of the first President of the Republic. Parents: William Washington and Sophia, his wife. Father, a graduate of the University of Virginia; professor of Indo-Euro- pean literature for ten years in Harvard University. Grandfather, Lawrence Washington, a judge of the Supreme Court of the United States for fifteen years. Sophia, mother of Estella, nee Wain- wright, an accomplished Greek and Sanserit scholar, daughter of Professor Elias Wainwright, who occupied the chair of psychologi- cal science in Yale College for twenty years. Families of both
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parents people of great learning and social position, but not wealthy in any of the branches. History: Father died when Estell a was eight years old, leaving his family poor. Her mother, after a hard struggle with poverty, died two years later. Estell a, then ten years old, was adopted by Maria, widow of George Washington, brother of Estella’s father, who had subsequently married one Ezekiel Plunkett, who is also dead. Maria Plunkett is a woman of low origin and sordid nature, with a large share of cunning; she lives at No. 2682 Grand Avenue. She had observed that Estella gave promise of great beauty, and as none of the other relatives put in a claim for the child, she took possession of her, with intent to educate her highly, improve her appearance by all the arts known to such women, and eventually sell her for a large sum to some wealthy aristocrat as a mistress ; believing that her hon- orable descent would increase the price which her personal charms would bring. On the 5th day of last month she sold her, for $5,000, to the Master of the Servants of the so-called Prince of Cabano; and she was taken to his house. Estella, who is quite ignorant of the wickedness of the world, or the true character of her aunt, for whom she entertains a warm feeling of gratitude and affection, be- lieves that she is to serve as lady-companion for Miss Frederika Bowers, the favorite mistress of the Prince, but whom Estella supposes to be his niece.
You can ima^ne, my dear brother — for you have a kind and sensitive heart, and love your wife — the pangs that shot through me, and distorted my very soul, as I listened to this dreadful narrative. Its calm, dispassionate, official character, while it confirmed its truth, added to the horrors of the awful story of crime ! Think of it! a pure, beautiful, cultured, confiding girl, scarcely yet a woman, consigned to a terrible fate, by one whom she loved and trusted. And the lurid light it threw on the state of society in which such a sacrifice could be possible I I forgot every pre- tense of indifference, which I had been trying to main- tain before Maximilian, and, springing up, every fiber quivering, I cried out :
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“ She must be saved ! ”
Maximilian, too, although colder-blooded, and hardened by contact with this debased age, was also stirred to his depths ; his face was flushed, and he seized me by the hand. He said :
“I will help you, my friend.”
“ But what can we do ? ” I asked.
“We should see her at once,” he replied, “and, if it is not yet too late, carry her away from that damn- able place, that house of hell, and its devilish owner, who preys on innocence and youth. We have one thing in our favor : the Master of the Servants, who bought Estella, is the same person who answered my flrst message. He belongs, as I told you, to our Brotherhood. He is in my power. He will give us ac- cess to the poor girl, and will do whatever is necessary to be done. Come, let us go !”
Those thin. Arm lips were more firmly set than ever ; the handsome eyes flashed with a flerce light ; he hurried for an instant into his secret room.
“Take this magazine pistol,” he said, “and this knife,” handing me a long bowie-knife covered with a handsome, gold-embossed sheath ; “ we are going into a den of infamy where everything is possible. Never unsheathe that knife until you are compelled to use it, for a scratch from it is certain and instant death ; it is charged with the most deadly poison the art of the chemist has been able to produce; the secret is known only to our Brotherhood ; the discoverer is an Italian professor, a member of our society.”
CHAPTER VI,
THE INTERVIEW.
Mounting to one of the electrical railroads, we were soon at the house of the Prince. Passing around to the servants’ entrance of the palace, Maximilian sent in his card to the Master of the Servants, who soon appeared, bowing deferentially to my friend. We were ushered into his private room. Maximilian first locked the door; he then examined the room carefully, to see if there was any one hidden behind the tapestry or furniture ; for the room, like every part of the pal- ace, was furnished in the most lavish and extravagant style. Satisfied with his search, he turned to Ru- dolph, as the Master of the Servants was called, and handed him the message he had received, which gave the history of Estella.
‘‘Read it,” he said.
Rudolph read it with a troubled countenance.
“Yes,” he said, “I am familiar with most of the facts here stated, and believe them all to be true. What would you have me do ?”
“First,” said Maximilian, “we desire to know if Estella is still in ignorance of the purpose for which she was brought here.”
“Yes,” he replied; “Frederika is jealous of her, as I can see, and has contrived to keep her out of the Prince’s sight. She has no desire to be supplanted by a younger and fairer woman.”
“God be praised for that jealousy,” exclaimed
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Maximilian. “ We must see Estella ; canyon manage it for us?”
“ Yes,” he said, “ I will bring her here. I know she is in the palace. I saw her but a few moments since. Wait for me.”
“Stop,” said Maximilian, “ have you the receipt for the $5,000 signed by Mrs. Plunkett?”
“ No ; but I can get it.”
“Do so, pray; and when you bring her here intro- duce me to her as Mr. Martin, and my friend here as Mr. Henry. She may refuse our assistance, and we must provide against the revenge of the Prince.”
“Iwill do as you command,” replied Rudolph, who acted throughout as if he felt himself in the presence of a superior officer.
As we sat waiting his return I was in a state of considerable excitement. Delight, to know that she was still the pure angel I had worshiped in my dreams, contended with trepidation as I felt I must soon stand in her presence.
The door opened and Rudolph entered; behind him came the tall form of the beautiful girl I had seen in the carriage : she seemed to me fairer than ever. Her eyes first fell upon me; she started and blushed. It was evident she recognized me; and I fancied the recognition was not unpleasant to her. She then turned to Maximilian and then to Rudolph, who introduced us as we had requested. I offered her a chair. She sat down, evidently astonished at such an interview, and yet entirely mistress of herself. Af- ter a moment’s pause, — for Maximilian, as he told me afterwards, was too bewildered with her splendid beauty to speak,— she said, in a sweet and gentle voice :
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“ Mr. Rudolph tells me that you desire to speak to me on ma tters of importance.”
At a sign from Maximilian Rudolph closed and locked the door. She started, and it seemed to me that her eyes turned to me with more confidence than to either of the others.
•‘Miss Washington,” said Maximilian, “it is true we desire to speak with you on matters of the great- est moment to yourself. But we shall say things so surprising to you, so harsh and cruel, so utterly in conflict with your present opinions, that I scarce know how to begin.”
She had grown paler during this speech, and I then said:
“Be assured that nothing but the profound re- spect we feel for you, and the greatest desire to serve you, and save you from ruin, could have induced us to intrude upon you.”
Her face showed her increasing alarm ; she placed her hand on her heart, as if to still its beatings, and then, with constrained dignity, replied :
“Ido not understand you, gentlemen. Ido not know what the dangers are to which you allude. Can you not speak plainly? ”
“My friend here, Mr. Henry,” said Maximilian, looking at me, “you have, I perceive, already recog- nized.”
“Yes,” she said, with another blush, “if I am not mistaken, he is the gentleman who saved the life of a poor beggar, some days since, and punished, as he deserved, our insolent driver. Miss Frederika, the Prince’s niece, has, at my request, refused since that time to permit him to drive us when we go out together, as we often do. I am glad to thank you again,” she
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said, with acharniiiigly ingenuous aii‘, for your noble act in saving that poor man’s life.”
“It was nothing,” I said, “but if the service was of any value it has been a thousand times repaid by your kind words.”
“You can easily imagine,” said Maximilian, “that my friend here, after that interview, was naturally curious to find out something about you.”
She blushed and cast down her eyes; and the thought flashed across my mind that perhaps she had been likewise curious to find out something about me.
“I am a member,” said Maximilian, “of a secret society. We have a ‘Bureau of Inquiry’ whose business it is to collect information, for the use of the society, concerning every person of any note. This informa- tion is carefully tabulated and preserved, and added to from day to day; so that at any moment it is subject to the call of our officers. When my friend desired to know something about you” (here the blue, wondering eyes were cast down again), “1 sent a message to our Bureau of Inquiry, and received a reply which I have here. I fear to show it to you. The shock will be too great to learn in a moment the utter baseness of one in whom you have trusted. I fear you have not the courage to endure such a blow; and at the same time I know of no better way to com- municate to your purity and innocence the shocking facts which it is my duty to disclose.’’
Estella smiled, and reached forth her hand for the paper with the dignity of conscious courage and high blood.
“ Let me read it,” she said ; “ I do not think it can tell me anything I cannot endure.”
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Maximilian delivered the paper into her hand. T watched her face as she read it. At first there was a look of wonder at the minuteness of the knowledge of her family which the paper revealed ; then the interest became more intense; then the eyebrows began to rise and the blue eyes to dilate with horror; then an expression of scorn swept over her face ; and as she read the last word she fiung the paper from her as if it had been a serpent, and rising up, yes, towering, a splendid image of wrath, she turned upon us and cried out :
“This is a base falsehood ! A cowardly trick to wound me! A shameful attempt to injure my dear aunt.”
And, wheeling around on Eudolph, her eyes blaz- ing, she said :
“Unlock that door I I shall reveal at once to the Prince this attack on his good name and Miss Fred- erika. How dare you bring these men here with such falsehoods?”
Eudolph, alarmed for himself, hung his head in silence. He was trembling violently.
“Eudolph,” said Maximilian, solemnly, “I call upon you, by the oath you have taken, to say to this lady whether or not the contents of that paper are true.”
“I believe them to be true,” responded Eudolph, in a low tone.
It was wonderful to see the fine indignation, the keen penetration that shone in Estella’s eyes, as she looked first a,t Eudolph and then at Maxi- milian.
“Eudolph,” said Maximilian, “bj^ the oath you have taken, tell Miss Washington whether or not you
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paid 15,000 to her aunt, Maria Plunkett, for the pur- chase other body, as set forth in that paper.”
“It is true,” replied Rudolph, in the same low tone.
“It is false!” cried Estella, — and yet I thought there was that in her tone which indicated that the hideous doubt had begun to enter her soul.
“Rudolph,” said Maximilian, “tell this lady whether you took a receipt from her aunt for the money you paid for her.”
“I did,” replied Rudolph.
“Miss Washington,” said Maximilian, like a law- yer who has reached his crucial question, for he was a trained attorney, “would you recognize your aunt’s signature if you saw it?”
“Certainly.”
“You have often seen her write?”
“Yes ; hundreds of times.”
“Have you any reason to distrust this good man, Rudolph? Do you not know that in testifying to the truth he runs the risk of his own destruction?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, and there wasa wild and wor- ried look in her eyes.
“Read the receipt, Rudolph,” said Maximilian.
Rudolph read, in the same low and almost tremb- ling tones, the following :
New York, August 5th, 1988. — Eeeeived of Matthew Kudolph, for the Prince of Cabano, the sum of five thousand dollars, in con- sideration of which I have delivered to the said Prince of Cabano the body of my niece, Estella Washington ; and I hereby agree, as the custodian of the said Estella Washington, never to demand any further payment, from the said Prince of Cabano, on account of my said niece, and never to reclaim her; and I also pledge myself never to reveal to any of the relatives of the said Estella Washington her place of residence.
(Signed) MAEIA PI.UNKETT.
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As he finished reading Estella seized the receipt quickly out of his hands, and fixed her eyes eagerly upon the signature. In a moment she became deadly pale, and would have fallen on the floor, but that I caught her in my arms — (oh,precious burden !) — and bore her to a sofa. Rudolph brought some water and bathed her face. In a few minutes she recovered con- sciousness. She looked at us curiously at first, and then, as memory returned to her, an agonized and distraught look passed over her features, and I feared she would faint again. I held some water to her lips. She looked at me with an intense look as I knelt at her side. Then her eyes passed to Maximilian and Rudolph, who stood respectfully a little distance from her. The tears flowed down her face. Then a new thought seemed to strike her, and she rose to a sit- ' ting posture.
“It cannot be true. My aunt could not do it. You are strangers to me. It is a conspiracy. I will ask Frederika.”
“No! no!” said Rudolph; “not Frederika; it would not be to her interest to tell you the truth. But is there any one of the servants in whom you have more confidence than all the others?”
“Yes,” she said, “there is Mary Callaghan, an honest girl, if there is one anywhere. I think she loves me; and I do not believe she would deceive me.”
“Then,” said Rudolph, “you shall send for her to come here. None of us shall speak to her lest you might think we did so to prompt her. We will hide behind the tapestry. Dry your tears; ring for a ser- vant, and request Mary to come to you, and then ask her such questions as you choose.”
This was done, and in a few moments Mary ap-
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peared — an honest, stout, rosy-cheeked Irish girl, with the frank blue eyes and kindly smile of her people.
“Mary,” said Estella,'‘you have always been kind to me. Do you love me sufficiently to tell me the truth if I ask you some questions?”
“Sure, and you may do so, my dear,” said Mary.
“Then, Mary, tell me, is Frederika the Princo of Cabano’s niece?”
“Niver a drop’s blood to him,” replied Mary.
“What is she doing in his house, then?” asked Estella.
“ Sure, it would be as much as my place is worth, ma’am, to answer that question ; and hard enough it is for an honest girl to get a place now-a-days. If it hadn’t been for Barney McGuiggan, who married my brother’s sister-in-law, and who is own cousin to Mr. Flaherty, the butler’s second assistant, I couldn’t have got the place I have at all, at all. And if I said a word against Miss Frederika, out I would go, and where would I find another place?”
“But, Mary, if you speak the truth no harm shall follow to you. I shall never repeat what you say. I do not ask out of idle curiosity, but much depends on your answer.”
“Indeed, ma’am,” replied Mary, “if you weren’t as innocent as ye’re purty, you would have found out the answer to your own question long ago. Faith, an’ don’t everybody in the house know she’s” — here she approached, and whispered solemnly in her ear — “she’s the Prince’s favorite mistress?”
Estella recoiled. After a pause she said :
“And, Mary, who are the other young ladies we call the Prince’s cousins — Miss Lucy, Miss Julia and the rest?”
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“ Ivery one of them's the same. It’s just as I told Hannah, the cook’s scullion; I didn’t belave ye knew a word of what was going on in this house. And didn’t I tell her that Miss Frederika was contriving to kape you out of the Prince’s sight ; and that was the rason she took you out riding for hours ivery day, and made you sleep in a remote part of the palace ; for if the Prince ever clapped his two ougly eyes upon you it would be all up wid Madame I’ced- erika.”
I could see from where I was hidden that Estella grasped the back of a chair for support, and she said in a low voice :
“You may go, Mary; I am much obliged to you for your friendship and honesty.”
We found her sitting in the chair, with her hands over her face, sobbing convulsively. At last she looked around upon us and cried out :
“Oh, my God! What shall I do? lam sold — sold — a helpless slave. Oh, it is horrible !”
“You will never be without friends while we live,” I said, advancing to her side.
“But I must fly,” she cried out, “and how — where?”
“My dear Miss Washington,” said Maximilian, in his kindest tones, “I have a dear mother, who will be glad to welcome you as her own child ; and in our quiet home you can remain, safe from the power of the Prince, until you have time to think out your future course of life ; and if you conclude to remain with us forever you will be only the more welcome. Here is Rudolph, who will vouch for me that I am an honorable man, and that you can trust yourself to me with safety.”
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“Yes,” said Kudolph; “Maximilian Petion is the soul of honor. His simple word is more than the oath of another.”
“ Then let us fly at once,” said Estella.
“No,” replied Rudolph, “that would not do; this house is guarded and full of spies. You would be fol- lowed and reclaimed.”
“What, then, do you advise?” asked Maximilian.
“Let me see,” replied the old man, thinking; “this is Thursday. On Monday night next the members of ‘the government’ have their meeting here. There will be a number of visitors present, and more or less confusion ; more guards will be necessary also, and I can contrive to have one of the Brotherhood act as sentinel at the door which opens into a hall which connects with this room ; for you seQ here is a special entrance which leads to a stairway and to the door I speak of. I will procure a gentleman’s dress for Miss Estella ; she is tall and will readily pass in the dark for a man. I will secure for you a permit for a carriage to enter the grounds. You will bring a close carriage and wait with the rest of the equipages, near at hand. But I must have some one who will accom-’ pany Miss Estella from this room to the carriage, for I must not show myself.”
I stepped forward and said, “I will be here.”
“But there is some danger in the task,” said Ru- dolph, looking at me critically. ‘ ‘ If detected, your life would pay the forfeit.”
“I would the danger were ten times as great,” I replied. Estella blushed and gave me a glance of gratitude.
“There is one difficulty I perceive,” said Maxi- milian.
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“ What is that?” asked Kudolph.
“I hesitate about leaving Miss Washington ex- posed to the danger of remaining four days longer in this horrible house.”
“I will look after that,” replied Rudolph. “ Shehad better pretend ill health, and keep her room during that time. It is on an upper floor, and if she remains there the danger will be very slight that the Prince will see her.”
“Miss Washington,” I said, handing her the dag- ger which Max had given me, “take this weapon. It is poisoned with the most deadly virus known to the art of man. A scratch from it is certain death. Use it to defend yourself if assailed.”
“ I know how I shall use it in the last extremity,” she said, meaningly.
“Better,” I replied, “purity in death than degra- dation in life.”
She thanked me with her eyes, and took the dag- ger and hid it in her bosom.
“There is one other matter,” said Rudolph to Max ; “ the meeting next Monday night is to be a very important one, I think, from certain indications. It is called to prepare for an expected outbreak of the people. It would be well that some reliable person should be present, as heretofore, who can report to you all that occurs. If you can send me a discreet man I can hide him where I have before hidden our brethren.”
“ Why could I not serve the purpose?” I said. “ I will be here anyhow ; and as I would have to remain until the gathering broke up, I might just as well witness the proceedings.”
“He is not one of us,” said Rudolph, doubtfully.
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“ No,” replied Max; “but I will vouch for his fidel- ity with my life.”
“ Then be it so,” said Rudolph. “ Let Miss Wash- ington withdraw by the farther door; and after a reasonable delay we will pass through into a com- municating series of rooms, and I will then show ^our friend where he is to be concealed.”
CHAPTER VII.
THE HIDING-PLACE.
I HAD seen something of the magnificence of this age, and of the splendor of its lordly habitations;' but I was not prepared for the grandeur of the rooms through which Rudolph led me. It w'ould be impos- sible to adequately describe them. We moved noise- lessly over carpets soft and deep as a rich sward, but tinted with colors and designs, from the great looms of the world, beside which the comparison of nature’s carpets seemed insignificant. We passed up great winding stairs, over which, it seemed to me, three carriages might have been driven abreast; we were surrounded at every step by exquisite statuary and royal paintings ; our course led through great libra- ries where the softened light fell on the endless arrays of richly-bound books. But they were as dead intelli- gence under the spell of a magician . No pale students sat at the tables here, availing themselves of the treasures which it had taken generations to assemble, and some of which could scarcely be found elsewhere. Men and w'omen passed and repassed us; for the house was so full of servants that it seemed like a town in itself. Here and there were quiet-looking ' watchmen, who served the place of police in a great city, and whose duty it was to keep watch and ward over the innumerable articles which everywhere met the eye— costly books, works of art, bronzes, jeweled boxes, musical instruments, small groups of exquisite
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statuary, engravings, curios, etc., from all quarters of the earth. It represented, in short, the very profligacy and abandon of unbounded wealth. Each room seemed to contain a king’s ransom. I could not help but contrast this useless and extravagant luxury, which served no purpose but display and vanity, with the dreadful homes and working-places of the poor I had visited the day before. And it seemed to me as if a voice pierced my heart, crying out through all its recesses, in strident tones, “How long, 0 Lord, how long? ” And then I thought how thin a crust of earth separated all this splendor from that burning hell of misery beneath it. And if the molten mass of horror should break its limitations and overflow the earth ! Already it seemed to me the planet trembled ; I could hear the volcanic explosions ; I could see the sordid flood of wrath and hunger pouring through these halls; cataracts of misery bursting through every door and window, and sweep- ing away all this splendor into never-ending black- ness and ruin. I stood still, lost in these engrossing reflections, when Rudolph touched me on the arm, and led the way through a great hall, covered with ancestral portraits, into a magniflcent chamber. In the center stood a large table, and around it about two score chairs, all made of dark tropical wood. It was like the council chamber of some great government, with the throne of the king at one end.
“This,” said Rudolph, in a solemn whisper, “this is where they meet. This is the real center of govern- ment of the American continent ; all the rest is sham
* ^ ' m
and form. The men who meet here determine the condition of all the hundreds of millions who dwell on
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the great land revealed to the world by Columbus. Here political parties, courts, juries, governors, legis- latures, congresses, presidents are made and unmade; and from this spot they are controlled and directed in the discharge of their multiform functions. The decrees formulated here are echoed by a hundred thousand newspapers, and many thousands of ora- tors ; and they are enforced by an uncountable army of soldiers, servants, tools, spies, and even assassins. He who stands in the way of the men who assemble here perishes. He who would oppose them takes his life in his hands. You are, young man, as if I had led you to the center of the earth, and I had placed your hand upon the very pivot, the well-oiled axle, upon which, noiselessly, the whole great globe revolves, and from which the awful forces extend which hold it all together.”
I felt myself overawed. It was as if mighty spirits even then inhabited that dusky and silent chamber ; hostile and evil spirits of whom mankind were at once the subjects and the victims. I followed Ru- dolph on tiptoe as he advanced to the end of the room.
“ Here,” he said, entering through a wide arch, '‘is a conservatory which is constantly kept supplied and renewed, from the hot-houses of the palace, with the most magnificent flowers. The only humanizing trait the Prince seems to possess is an affection for flowers. And he especially loves those strange Mexican and South American plants, thecaetacese, which unite the most exquisite flowers to the most grotesque and re- pulsive forms, covered with great spear-like spines, and which thrive only in barren lands, and on the poorest soil. I have taken advantage of the presence
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of these plants to construct the hiding-place about which I spoke to you. Here are some which are fifteen feet high. They touch the ceiling of the room. Around them I have arranged a perfect hedge or breast-work of smaller plants of the same family, growing in large boxes. Nothing could penetrate through this prickly wall ; and I have united the boxes by hooks and staples on the inside. There is, however, one which a strong man can move aside ; and through the opening thus formed he can crawl to the center of the barricade, and, having replaced the hooks, it would be almost impossible to reach him ; while he could not be seen unless one were immediately over him and looked down upon him. Then between him and the council room I have arranged a screen of fiowers, which will hide you when you stand up, while between the blossoms you can see everything with little risk of being seen. But in case you should be detected you will observe behind you a window, which, as the weather is warm, I shall leave open. On the outside is a great ivy vine that will bear your weight. You will have to dare the spines of the cacti behind you; make a great leap to the window and take your chances of escaping the fusillade of pistol shots, by flying in the darkness, into the garden. I will show you the grounds so that you will not be lost in them, if you get that far. If caught, you will have to pretend to be a burglar who entered at the window for purposes of plunder. It would do you no good to inculpate me, for it would doom us both to instant death as spies; while a supposed burglar would be simply turned over to the law and punished by a term of imprisonment. I give you these instructions although I hope there will be no necessity for them.
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This hiding-place has been several times used, and the deepest secrets of the aristocracy revealed to our Brotherhood, without detection ; and if you are pru- dent and careful there will be little to fear. The coun- cil will meet at eight o’clock; at half past seven it will be my duty to see that the rooms are in order, and to make sure that there are no spies or intruders on the premises, and to so report in person to the Prince, and deliver him the key of the outer door. 1 shall cover your dress with the garments of one of the household servants, and take you with me to help make that last examination ; and, watching an op- portunity, you will slip into the hiding-place; having first taken off the disguise I have lent you, which we will hide among the plants. You must be armed and prepared for every emergency. I will meet you in the garden at half past six ; before we part I will furnish you with a key to an outer gate, by which you can enter. As soon as the council has broken up, I will return to the room and again disguise you in the servant’s dress. The Prince always entertains his guests with a lunch and champagne before they sep- arate.
“In the meantime I will bring Estella to my room; you can then pass out together and boldly advance to your carriage. You will first have to agree Avith Maximilian where it will stand ; and the guard at the door will show you to it. When once in it, drive like the wind. You must arrange with Maximilian as to what is to be done in case you find you are followed, for in that event it will not do to drive directly to his house. You must enter the house of some one of the Brotherhood and pass rapidly through it, with Miss Washington, to a carriage that will be in waiting in
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a rear street. And you must be prepared with one or more such subterfuges, for you are dealing with men of terrible power and cunning, whose arms reach every- where; and on the night of their councils — and in fact upon all other nights — the place abounds with spies. Come with me and I will show you the garden and how to enter it.”
I was struck with the intelligence, sagacity and ex- ecutive capacity of the man ; and I said to him :
“How comes it that you, holding such a position of trust and power, where your compensation must be all you can ask, are, at the same time, a member of a society Avhich, if I understand aright, threatens to overturn the existing order of things. You are not driven to rebellion by want or oppression.”
“No,” he said; “I was educated at Heidelberg; I come of a wealthy family ; but in my youth, while an enthusiastic lover of liberty and humanity, I became a member of a German branch of this now universal Brotherhood. I had my dreams, as many have, of re- forming the world. But my membership, by a strange accident, became known, and I was forced to fly in disgrace, discarded by my relatives, to America. Here I lived in great poverty for a time, until the Brotherhood came to my assistance and secured me a. servant’s place in this house. I have gradually risen to my present position. While I am not so enthusi- astic as I once was, nor so sanguine of the good. re- sults of the promised revolution of the proletariat, I have nevertheless seen enough within these walls to show me the justice of our cause and the necessity for some kind of reformation. I could not draw back . now, if I desired to ; and 1 do not know that I would if I could. We are all moving together on the face of
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the torrent, and whither it will eventually sweep us no one can tell. But come,” he added, “to the garden, or our long conversation may be noticed, and arouse suspicion.”
CHAPTER Vm.
THE BROTHERHOOD.
I CANNOT give you, my dear brother, a detailed account of every day’s occurrences, although I know that your love for me would make every incident of interest to you. I shall, however, jot down my reflec- tions on sheets, and send them to you as occasion serves.
The more I have seen, and the more I have conversed with Maximilian, the more clearly I perceive that the civilized world is in a desperate extremity. This Brotherhood of Destruction, with its terrible purposes and its vast numbers, is a reality. If the ruling class had to deal only with a brutalized peasantry, they might, as they did in other ages, trample them into animal-like inability to organize and defend them- selves. But the public school system, which, with the other forms of the Republic, is still kept up, has made, if not all, at least a very large percentage of the un- happy laboring classes intelligent. In fact, they are wonderfully intelligent; their organizations have been to them clubs, debating societies and legislatures. And you know that all the greatest minds of the earth have come out of the masses, if not directly, at least after one or two removes. The higher aristoc- racy have contributed but very few to the honored catalogue of men of pre-eminent genius. And there- fore you will not be surprised to hear that in these great organizations there have arisen, from among
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tlie very laborers, splendid orators, capable organiz- ers, profound students of politics and political econ- omy, statesmen and masterly politicians. Nature, which knows no limit to her capacity for the crea- tion of new varieties, and, dealing with hundreds of millions, has innumerable elements to mingle in her combinations, has turned out some marvelous lead- ers among these poor men. Their hard fortunes have driven out of their minds all illusions, all imagi- nation, all poetry ; and in solemn fashion they have bent themselves to the grim and silent struggle with their environment. Without imagination, I say, for this seems to me to be a world without a song.
And it is to the credit of these great masses that they are keen enough to recognize the men of ability that rise up among them, and even out of their poor, hard-earned resources to relieve them of the ne- cessity for daily toil, that they may devote them- selves to the improvement of their minds, and the execution of the great tasks assigned them. There is no doubt that if the ruling classes had been willing to recognize these natural leaders as men of the same race, blood, tongue and capacity as themselves, and had reached down to them a helping and kindly hand, there might have been long since a coming together of the two great divisions of society ; and such a re- adjustment of the values of labor as would, while it insured happiness to those below, have not materially lessened the enjoyments of those above. But the events which preceded the great war against the aris- tocracy in 1640, in England; the great revolution of 1789, in France ; and the greater civil war of 1861, in America, all show how impossible it is, by any process of reasoning, to induce a privileged class to peacefully
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yield up a single tittle of its advantages. There is no bigotry so blind or intense as that of caste ; and long established wrongs are only to be rooted out by fire and sword. And hence the future looks so black to * me. The upper classes might reform the world, but they will not ; the lower classes would, but they can- not; and for a generation or more these latter have settled down into a sullen and unanimous conviction that the only remedy is world-wide destruction. We can say, as one said at the opening of the Crom- wellian struggle, “God help the land w’here ruin must reform ! ” But the proletariat are desperate. They are ready, like the blind Samson, to pull down the pillars of the temple, even though they themselves fall, crushed to death amid the ruins; for
‘‘ The grave is brighter than their hearths and homes.’’
I learn from Maximilian that their organization is most perfect. Every one of their hundred millions is now armed with one of the newest improved maga- zine rifles. The use of the white powder reduces very much the size of the cartridges ; the bullets are also much smaller than they were formerly, but they are each charged with a most deadly and powerful ex- plosive, which tears the body of the victim it strikes to pieces. These small cartridges are stored in the steel stock and barrel of the rifles, which will hold about one hundred of them; and every soldier therefore carries in his hand a weapon almost equal to the old- time Gatling or Armstrong gun.
The mode in which these guns were procured shows the marvelous nature of the organization and its re- sources . Findiug that the cost of the guns was greatly increased by the profits of the manufacturer and
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the middleman, and that it was, in fact, very doubt- ful whether the government would permit them to purchase them in any large quantities, they re- solved to make them for themselves. In the depths of abandoned coal mines, in the wildest and most mountainous part of Tennessee, they established, years ago, their armories and foundries. Here, under pretense of coal-mining and iron-working, they brought members of their Brotherhood, workmen from the national gun-works; and these, teaching hundreds of others the craft, and working day and night, in double gangs, have toiled until every able-bodied man in the whole vast Brotherhood, in America and Europe, has been supplied with his weapon and a full accompaniment of ammunition. The cost of all this was reduced to a minimum, and has been paid by each member of the Brotherhood setting aside each week a small percentage of his earn- ings. But, lest they should break out prematurely, before the leaders gave the word, these guns have not been delivered directly to their owners, but to the “commanders of tens,” as they are called; for the Brotherhood is divided into groups of ten each ; and it is the duty of these commanders to bury the weap- ons and ammunition in the earth in rubber sacks, furnished for the purpose, and only to deliver them when the signal comes to strike. In the mean- time the men are trained with sticks in all the evolu- tions of soldiers. You can see how cunning is all this system. A traitor cannot betray more than nine of his fellows, and his own death is certain to follow. If the commander of a squad goes over to the enemy, he can but deliver up nine men and ten guns, and per- haps reveal the supposed name of the one man who,
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ill a disguise, has coniiiuiiiicated with him from the parent society. But when the signal is given a hun- dred million trained soldiers will stand side by side, armed with the most efficient weapons the cunning of man is able to produce, and directed by a central authority of extraordinary ability. Above all this dreadful preparation the merry world goes on, sing- ing and dancing, marrying and giving in marriage, as thoughtless of the impending catastrophe as were the people of Pompeii in those pleasant August days in 79, just before the city was buried in ashes; — and yet the terrible volcano had stood there, in the im- mediate presence of themselves and their ancestors, for generations, and more than once the rocking earth had given signal tokens of its awful pos- sibilities.
If I believed that this wonderful Brotherhood was capable of anything beyond destruction, I should not look with such terror as I do upon the prospect. But after destruction there must come construction — the erection of law and civilization upon the ruins of the present order of things. Who can believe that these poor brutalized men will be capable, armed to the teeth with deadly weapons, and full of passions, hates and revenges, to recreate the slaughtered so- ciety? In civilized life the many must work ; and who among these liberated slaves will be ready to lay down their weapons and take up their tasks ? When the negroes of San Domingo broke out, in that world- famous and bloody insurrection, they found them- selves, when they had triumphed, in a tropical land, where the plentiful bounties of nature hung abundant supplies of food upon every tree and shrub. But in the temperate regions of America and Europe these G
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vast populations can only live by great toil, and if none will toil all must starve ; but before they starve they will slay each other, and that means universal conflict, savagery, barbarism, chaos.
I tremble, my brother, I tremble with horror when I think of what is crawling toward us, with noiseless steps ; couchant, silent, treacherous, pard- like ; scarce rustling the dry leaves as it moves, and yet with bloodshot, glaring eyes and tense-drawn limbs of steel, ready for the fatal spring. When comes it? To-night? To-morrow? A week hence? Who can say?
And the thought forever presses on me, Can I do nothing to avert this catastrophe? Is there no hope? For mankind is in itself so noble, so beautiful, so full of all graces and capacities; with aspirations fitted to sing among the angels; with comprehension fitted to embrace the universe! Consider the exqui- site, lithe-limbed figures of the first man and woman, as they stood forth against the red light of their first sunset — fresh from the hand of the Mighty One — His graceful, perfected, magnificent thoughts I What love shines out of their great eyes ; what goodness, like dawn-awakened flowers, is blooming in their singing hearts I And all to come to this. To this I A hell of injustice, ending in a holocaust of slaughter.
God is not at fault. Nature is not to blame. Civil- ization, signifying increased human power, is not responsible. But human greed, — blind, insatiable human greed, — shallow cunning; the basest, stuff- grabbing, nut-gathering, selfish instincts, these have done this work I The rats know too much to gnaw through the sides of the ship that carries them ; but these so-called wise men of the world have eaten away
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the walls of society in a thousand places, to the thin- ness of tissue-paper, and the great ocean is about to pour in at every aperture. And still they hoot and laugh their insolent laugh of safety and triumph above the roar of the greedy and boundless waters, just ready to overwhelm them forever.
Full of these thoughts, which will not permit me to sleep at night, and which haunt my waking hours, I have gone about, for some days, accompanied by Maximilian, and have attended meetings of the Avorkingmen in all parts of the city. The ruling class long since denied them the privilege of free speech, under the pretense that the safety of society required it.v In doing so they have screwed down the safety- valve, while the steam continues to generate. Hence the men meet to discuss their wrongs and their reme- dies in underground cellars, under old ruined brewer- ies and warehouses; and there, in large, low-roofed apartments, lighted by tallow candles, flaring against the dark, damp, smoky walls, the swarming masses assemble, to inflame each other mutually against their oppressors, and to look forward, with many a secret hint and innuendo, to that great day of Avrath and revenge Avhich they know to be near at hand —
“And Avith pale lips men say,
To-morrow, perchance to-day,
Enceladus may arise I”
But as any member is permitted to bring in a friend — for these are not meetings of the Brother- hood itself, but simply voluntary gatherings of Avorkmen, — and as any man may prove a traitor, their utterances are guarded and enigmatical.
More than once I have spoken to them in these dim
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halls ; and while full of sympathy for their sufferings, and indignant as they themselves can be against their oppressors, I have pleaded with them to stay their hands, to seek not to destroy, but to reform. I preach to them of the glories of civilization; I trace its history backward through a dozen eras and many nations ; I show them how slowly it grew, and by what small and gradual accretions; I tell them how radiantly it has burst forth in these latter centuries^ with such magnificent effulgence, until to- day man has all nature at his feet, shackled and gyved, his patient logman. I tell them that a ruffian, with one blow of his club, can destroy the life of a man; and that all the doctors and scientists and philoso- phers of the world, working together for ages, could not restore that which he has so rudely extinguished. And so, I say to them, the civilization which it has taken ten thousand years to create may be swept away in an hour ; and there shall be no power in the wit or wisdom of man to re-establish it.
Most of them have listened respectfully; a few have tried to answer me; some have mocked me. But it is as if one came where grouped convicts stood, long im- prisoned, who heard — with knives in their hands — the thunderous blows of their friends as they battered down the doors of their prison-house, and he should beg them not to go forth, lest they should do harm to society ! They will out, though the heavens and the earth came together ! One might as well whisper to Niagara to cease falling, or counsel the resistless cyclone, in its gyrating and terrible advance, to have a care of the rose-bushes.
CHAPTER IX.
THE POISONED KNIFE.
When we returned home, on Sunday evening, Max found the receptacle in the wall which communicated with the pnenmatic-tube system standing open. In it he found a long communication in cipher. He read a few lines with a startled look and then said :
“Here is important news, Gabriel. It is written in one of the ciphers of the Brotherhood, which I will translate to you. The number is that of Rudolph — the number it is addressed to is my own. We know ea;ch other in the Brotherhood, not by our names, but b^'- the numbers given us when we became mem- bers. Listen :
“From number 28,263 M 2, to No. 160,053 P 4. Dated this 7:9, from the house of the condemned, No. 826 B.”
“That,” said Maximilian, “means the Prince Cabano. ” He continued to read :
“ Startling events have occurred since I saw you. The former favorite mistress of 826 B, who was dis- placed by Frederika, is a French girl, Celestine d’Aublay . She resented her downfall bitterly, and she hates Frederika with the characteristic vehemence of her race. She learned from the talk of the servants that anew victim — Estella — had been brought into the house, a girl of great beauty ; and that Frederika was trying to prevent 826 B from seeing her. A sudden thought took possession of her mind; she
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would overthrow Frederika just as she herself had been overthrown. Yesterday, Saturday afternoon, she watched for 826 B in the hallways and chambers. The snuffling old wretch has a fashion of prying around in all parts of the house, under the fear that he is being robbed by the servants ; and it was not long until Celestine encountered him. She threw herself in his way.
“‘Well, little one,’ he said, chucking her under the chin, ‘ how have you been ? I have not seen your pretty face for a long time.’
“‘Indeed,’ said she, ‘you care very little now for my pretty face, or that of any one else, since you have your new toy, Estella.’
“ ‘ Estella ! ’ he repeated, ‘ who is Estella? ’
“‘Come, come,’ she said laughing; ‘that will not do ! Master Eudolph brings into the house a young girl of ravishing beauty, and weeks afterwards j^ou ask me who she is ! I am not to be deceived that way. I know you too well.’
“‘But really,’ he replied, ‘I have not seen her. This is the first I have ever heard of her. Who is she?’
“ ‘Her name is Estella Washington,’ replied Celes- tine ; ‘ she is about eighteen years old.’
“ ‘ Estella Washington,’ he said respectfully; ‘that is a great name. What is she like ? ’
“‘I have told you already,’ was the reply, ‘that she is of magnificent beauty, tall, fair, stately, grace- ful and innocent.’
“ ‘ Indeed, I must see her. ’
“ He hurried to his library and rang my bell.
“‘Rudolph,’ he said, when I appeared, ‘who is this Estella Washington that you brought into the
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house some weeks since? Celestine has been telling me about her. How comes it I have never seen her ? ’
“ My heart came into my mouth with a great leap ; but I controlled my excitement and replied :
“‘My lord, I reported to you the fact of the pur- chase some time since, and the payment of $5,000 to an aunt of Estella.’
“‘True,’ he said, ‘I remember it now; but I was much occupied at the time. How comes it, however, that she has been in the house and I have never seen her?.’
“I determined not to betray Frederika, and so I replied :
“‘It must have been by accident, your lordship; and, moreover, Estella is of a very quiet, retiring dis- position, and has kept her room a great part of the time since she came here.’
“ ‘ Go to her and bring her here,’ he said.
“There was no help for it; so I proceeded to Estella’s room.
“ ‘Miss Washing-ton, ’ I said, ‘I have bad news for you. The Prince desires to see you? ’
“ She rose up, very pale.
“ ‘My God,’ she said, ‘what shall I do? ’
“And then she began to fumble in the folds of her dress for the knife your friend gave her.
“‘Be calm and patient,’ I said; ‘do nothing des- perate. On the night after next your friend will come for you. We must delay matters all we can. Keep your room, and I will tell the Prince that you are too sick to leave your bed, but hope to be well enough to pay your respects to him to-morrow afternoon. We will thus gain twenty-four hours’ delay, and Ave may be able to use the same device again to-morrow.’
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“But she was very much excited, and paced the room with hurried steps, wringing her hands. To calm her I said :
“ ‘ You are in no danger. You can lockyour door. And see, come here,’ I said, and, advancing to one of the window sills, I lifted it up and disclosed, neatly coiled within it, a ladder of cords, with stout bamboo rounds. ‘As a last resort,’ I continued, ‘you can drop this out of the window and fly. All the rooms in this older part of the palace are furtiished with similar flre-escapes. You see that yellow path below us ; and there beyond the trees you may perceive a part of the wall of the gardens ; that path terminates at a little gate, and here is a key that will unlock it. Study the ground well from your windows. Your es- cape would, however, have to be made by night ; but as you would run some risk in crossing the grounds, and, when you passed the gate, would And yourself in the midst of a strange world, without a friend, you must only think of flight as your last resource in the m ost desperate extremity. We must resort to cunning, until your friends come for you, on Monday night. But be patient and courageous. Remember, .1 am your friend, and my life is pledged to your service.’
“She turned upon me, and her penetrating eyes seemed to read my very soul.
“‘How,’ she said, ‘can I trust you? You area stranger to me. Worse than that, you are the hired instrument of that monster — that dealer in flesh and blood. You bought me and brought me here; and who are your friends ? They too are strangers to me. WJiy should I believe in strangers when the one whom 1 loved, and in whom I placed unquestioning trust, has betrayed me, and sold me to the most dreadful fate? ’
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“ I hung my head.
“ ‘It chances,’ I replied, humbly, ‘that the instru- ments of vice may sometimes loathe the work they do. The fearful executioner may, behind his mask, hide the traces of grief and pity. I do not blame you for your suspicions. I once had aspirations, perhaps as high, and purity of soul nearly as great as your own. But what are we? The creatures of fate ; the victims of circumstances. We look upon the Medusa-head of destiny, with its serpent curls, and our wills, if not our souls, are turned into stone. God alone, who knows all, can judge the heart of man. But I am pledged, by ties the most awful, to a society which, however terrible its methods may be, is, in its grand conceptions, charitable and just. My life would not be worth a day’s purchase if I did not defend you. One of your friends stands high in that society.’
“ ‘ Which one is that?’ she asked, eagerly.
“ ‘ The smaller and darker one,’ I replied.
“ ‘ Can you tell me anything about the other? ’ she asked, and a slight blush seemed to mantle her face, as if she were ashamed of the question.
“ ‘ Very little,’ I replied ; ‘ he is not amember of our Brotherhood ; but he is a brave man, and the friend of Mr. Maximilian can not be a bad man.’
“ ‘ No,’ she said, thoughtfully ; ‘ he is of agood and noble nature, and it is in him I trust.’
“‘But,’ said I, ‘I must leave you, or the Prince will wonder at my long absence.’
“As I took my departure I heard her locking the door behind me. I reported to the Prince that Miss Washington was quite ill, and confined to her bed, but that she hoped to do herself the honor of calling upon him the next day. He looked glum, but assented.
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Upon leaving him, I called upon Frederika and re- quested her to come to my room. In'a few moments she appeared. After seating her I said :
“ ‘ Miss Frederika, will you pardon me if I ask you a few questions upon matters of importance to both of us?’
“ ‘ Certainly,’ she replied.
“‘In the first place,’ I said, ‘ you regard me as your friend, do you not? Have I not always shown a disposition to serve you?’
“ She replied with some pleasant smiles and assur- ances of friendship.
“ ‘Now let me ask you another question,’ I con- tinued. ‘Do you entertain friendly sentiments to Miss Estella? ’
“‘Indeed I do,’ she replied; ‘she is a sweet-tem- pered, innocent and gentle girl.’
“ ‘ I am glad to hear it,’ I said ; ‘ did you know that the Prince has discovered her, and has just sent me for her? ’
“ Her large black eyes fairly blazed.
“‘Who has told him of her?’ she asked, fiercely, and her voice rose high and shrill.
“ ‘ Your enemy. Miss Celestine,’ I replied.
“ ‘ I suspected as much,’ she said.
“ ‘ I need not tell you, ’ I said, ‘ that Celestine’s motive was to supplant and humble you.’
“‘I understand that,’ she replied, and her hands twitched nervously, as if she would like to encounter her foe.
“‘Now let me ask you another question,’ I con- tinued. ‘Would you not be glad to see Estella safely out of this house? ’
‘“Indeed I would,’ she replied, eagerly.
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“ ‘ If I place my life in your hands, will you be true to me?’ I asked.
“ She took me earnestly by the hand, and replied
“ ‘ Neither in life nor in death will I betray you.’
“‘Then,’ said I, ‘I will tell you that Estella has friends who are as anxious to get her away from this place as you are. They have arranged to come for her on Monday night next. You must help me to protect her from the Prince in the meantime, and to facili- tate her escape when the time comes.’
“‘I will do so,’ she said; ‘tell me what I can do now?’
“ ‘Make yourself very entertaining to the Prince,’ I replied, ‘and keep his thoughts away from the stranger. Estella pleads sickness and keeps her room; and we may be able to protect her in that way until the fateful night arrives. And remember,’ I said, touching her upon the breast and looking earnestly into her eyes, for I have httle faith in such natures, ‘ that I am a member of a great secret society, and if any mishap were to happen to me, through your agency, your own life would pay the immediate forfeit.’
“She shrank back affrighted, and assured me again of her good faith. And as she desires to be quit of Estella, I think she will not betray us.”
“Sunday Evening, seven o’clock.
“I resume my narrative. I have gone through dreadful scenes since I laid down my pen.
“This afternoon about five o’clock the Prince rang for me.
“ ‘Bring Estella,’ he said.
“ I went at once to her room. I found her looking
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paler than usual. She had the appearance of one that had not slept.
“‘Estella,’ I said, ‘the Prince has a^ain sent for you. I shall return and make the same excuse. Do not worry — all will be well. We are one day nearer your deliverance.’
“ I retmmed and told the Prince that Estella was even worse than the day before; that she had a high fever; and that she apologized for not obeying his summons ; but that she hoped by to-morrow to be well enough to pay her respects to him.
“He was in one of his sullen fits. I think Fred- erika had been overdoing her blandishments, and he had become suspicious ; for he is one of the most cun- ning of men.
“ ‘ Frederika is behind this business,’ he said.
“ ‘Behind what business, my lord?’ I asked.
“ ‘ This sickness of Estella. Bring her to me, ill or well,’ he replied ; ‘ I want to see her.’
“ He was in no humor to be trified with; and so I returned to my room to think it over. 1 saw that Estella would have to barricade herself in her room. How could she support life in the meantime? The first requisite was, therefore, food. I went at once to Michael, the cook’s assistant, who is a trusty friend of mine, and secured from him, secretly and under a pledge of silence, food enough to last until the next night. I hurried to Estella, told her of her danger, and gave her the basket of provisions. I instructed her to lock her door.
“ ‘ If they break it in,’ I said, ‘ use your knife on the first man that touches you. If they send you food or drink, do not use them. If they attempt to chloro- form you, stop up the pipe with soap. If the worst
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comes to the worst, use the rope-ladder. If you man- age to get outside the garden gate, call a hack and drive to that address.’ Here I gave her your direc- tion on a small piece of tissue paper. ‘If you are about to be seized, chew up the paper and swallow it. Do not in any event destroy yourself,’ I added,' until the last desperate extremity is reached; for you have a powerful organization behind you, and even if recaptured you will be rescued. Good-by.’
“She thanked me warmly, and as I left the room I heard her again lock the door.
“I returned to the Prince, and told him that Es- tella had said she was too ill to leave her room, and that she refused to obey his summons. Unaccus- tomed to contradiction, especially in his own house, he grew furious.
“ ‘Call the servants,’ he shouted; ‘we will see who is master here ! ’
“A few of the men came running; Frederika en- tered with them ; some of the women followed. We proceeded up stairs to Estella’s door. The Prince shook it violently.
‘‘‘Open the door,’ he cried, ‘or I will break it down.’
“ I began to hope that he would rush to the doom he has so long deserved.
“ The calm, steady voice of Estella wms now heard from within the room ; speaking in a high and ringing tone ;
“ ‘ I appeal to my country. I demand the right to leave this house. I am an American citizen. The Constitution of the United States forbids human slavery. My fathers helped to found this government. No one has the right to sell me into the most hideous
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bondage. I come of a great and noble race. I de- mand my release.’
“‘Come, come, open the door,’ cried the Prince, flinging himself against it until it quivered.
“The voice of Estella was heard again, in solemn tones :
“ ‘ The man who enters here dies ! ’
“The cowardly brute recoiled at once, with terror on every feature of his face.
“ ‘ Who will break down that door,’ he asked, ‘and bring out that woman?’
“There was a dead silence for a moment; then Joachim, abroad-shouldered, superserviceable knave, who had always tried to ingratiate himself with the Prince by spying upon the rest of the servants and tattling, stepped forward, with an air of bravado, and said, ‘I will bring her out.’
“‘Go ahead,’ said the Prince, sullenly.
“Joachim made a rush at the door; it trembled and creaked, but did not yield; he moved farther back, drew his breath hard, and, — strong as a bull, — went at it with a furious rush ; the lock gave way, the door flew open and Joachim sprawled upon the floor. I could see Estella standing back near the win- dow, her right arm was raised, and I caught the glit- ter of something in her hand. In an instant Joachim was on his feet and approached her ; I saw him grasp her ; there was a slight scuffle, and the next moment Joachim rushed out of the room, pale as death, with his hand to his breast, crying out :
“ ‘ Oh ! my God ! she has stabbed me.’
“ He tore open his shirt bosom, and there upon his hairy breast was a bloody spot ; but the knife had struck the breast-bone and inflicted only a shallow
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flesh-wound. Joachim laughed, replaced his shirt, and said :
“‘Ah! I might have known a girl’s hand could not strike a deadly blow. I will bring her out, my lord. Get me a rope.’
“He turned toward me, as he spoke; bnt on the instant I saw a sharp spasm contract his features ; he clapped his hand to his heart ; a look of surprise and then of terror came over his face.
“ ‘Oh, my God! ’ he cried, ‘I am poisoned.’
“The most awful shrieks I ever heard broke from him ; and the next moment his limbs seemed to lose their strength, and he fell in a heap on the floor ; then he rolled over and over ; mighty convnlsions swept through him ; he groaned, cried, shrieked, foamed at the mouth ; there was a sudden snorting sound, and he stiffened out and was dead.
“We fell back appalled. Then in the doorway appeared the figure of Estella, her blue eyes bright as stars, her long golden hair falling like a cloak to her waist, the red-tipped knife in her hand; she looked like a Gothic priestess — aYala of Odin — with the reek- ing human sacrifice already at her feet. The blood of a long line of heroic ancestors thrilled in her veins. Stepping over the dead body, already beginning to swell and grow spotted with many colors, like a snake, she advanced toward the Prince, who stood in his dressing-gown, trembling, and nearly as bloated, pale and hideons as the wretched Joachim.
“‘Is it you,’ she said — ‘you, the dealer in hu- man flesh and blood, that has bought me? Come to me, and take possession of your bond-woman ! ’
“With a cry of terror the Prince turned his back and fled as fast as his legs would carry him, while all
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the rest of us followed pell-mell. At the end of the hall is a large iron door, used for protection in case of fire.
“ ‘Quick,’ shrieked the Prince, ‘lock the door! lock the door I ’
“ This was done, and he stopped to pant and blow in safety. When he had recovered his breath, he cried out:
“‘Send for the police! We will have her chloro- formed.’
“I touched Frederika on the arm; — she followed me into an open room. ,
“ ‘Tell him,’ I whispered to her, quickly, ‘tell him that if he calls in the police there will have to be an inquest over the dead body of Joachim ; there may be questions asked that will be hard to answer. The girl will have to be taken off to be tried for murder, and he will lose her. If he attempts to use chloroform she will stab herself with the poisoned knife. Tell him you will drug her food with narcotics; that hunger will eventually compel her to eat; and that when she sleeps she may be made a prisoner, and the knife taken away from her.’
“The quick-witted girl saw the force of these sug- gestions, and ran after her paramour. She succeeded in her mission. He fears the coming outbi’eak, whis- pers of which are now heard everywhere. He has recalled the order for the police. He stipulates, how- ever— for he is suspicious of Frederika, and fears treachery — that he is to drug the food himself and see it placed in the room; and he has stationed two trusty guards at the door of Estella’s chamber, who are to be changed every eight hours, and who are instructed that, whenever they think she is asleep.
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one of them is to notify him; and carpenters will then quietly cut the door from its hinges, and they will enter, disarm her and make her a prisoner. Es- tella, I find, has barricaded her door with her bedstead and the rest of the furniture. If she sleeps she will wake with any attempt to enter the room ; but she is not likely, in her present state of high-wrought excitement, to sleep at all ; and she will not touch the drugged food sent in to her. I have arranged with Frederika, who has great authority in the house, that on Mon- day night the two watchmen shall be furnished with some refreshment containing morphine; and when they are sound asleep, and the Prince busy with his guests, she or Iwill go to the room, carrying Estella’s masculine disguise, and then bring her to my room, where she will join your friend.
“I do not think she is in any present danger. Th'' poisoned knife is her safeguard. The whole hous^ hold, after witnessing its terrible potency, fear it as they would the fangs of a rattlesnake. It was a lucky thought that left it with her.
“If your friend does not fail us, all will be well.
“Farewell. . 28,263 M 2.”
I need not tell you, my dear Heinrich, that we both followed this narrative with the most rapt attention and the most intense feeling.
“Brave girl!” I cried, when Maximilian stopped reading, “she is worth dying for.”
“Or living for,” said he, “which is better still. How she rose to the occasion 1”
“Yes,” I said, “that was blood.”
“There is as good stuff in the ranks,” he replied, “as ever came out of them. The law of heredity is 7
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almost as unreliable as the law of variation. Every- thing rises out of the mud, and everything goes back into it.”
“ Do you think,” I asked, after a pause, “ that she will be safe until to-morrow night? Should I not go to her at once? Could I not see Rudolph and have her descend the rope-ladder, and I meet her and bring her here?”
“ No,” he replied, “ it is now too late for that ; it is midnight. You can place full faith in Rudolph ; his penetration and foresight are extraordinary. He will not sleep until Estella is out of that house ; and his busy brain will be full of schemes in the meantime. The best thing we can do now is to go to bed and prepare, by a good long sleep, for the excitements and dangers of to-morrow night. Do not fear for Estella. She has ceased to be a child. In an hour she has risen to the full majesty of her womanhood.”
CHAPTER X.
PREPARATIONS FOR TO-NIGHT.
The next morning I found Maximilian in confer- ence with a stranger; a heavily-built, large-jawed, uncommunicative man. As I was about to withdraw my friend insisted that I should sit down.
“We have been making the necessary arrange- ments for next Monday night,” he said. “ The proba- bilities are great that we may be followed when we leave the house, and traced. It will not do to go, as Rudolph suggested, to the residence of any friend, and pass through it to another carriage. The Oligarchy would visit a terrible vengeance on the head of the man who so helped us to escape. I have instructed ,this gentleman to secure us, through an agent, three empty houses in different parts of the city, and he has done so ; they stand in the center of blocks, and have rear exits, opening upon other streets or alleys,- at right angles with the streets on which the houses stand. Then in these back streets he is to have covered carriages with the fleetest horses he can obtain. Our pursuers, thinking we are safely housed, may return to report our whereabouts to their masters. Estella being missed the next day, the police will visit the house, but they will And no one there to punish ; nothing but curtains over the windows.”
“But,” said I, “will they not follow the carriage that brought us there, and thus identify its owner
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and driver, and force them to tell who employed them?”
“ Of course ; I have thought of that, and provided for it. There are members of the Brotherhood who have been brought from other cities in disguise, and three of these will have another carriage, which, leav- ing the Prince’s grounds soon after we do, will pursue our pursuers. They will be well armed and equipped with hand-grenades of dynamite. If they perceive that the spies cannot be shaken off, or that they pro- pose to follow any of our carriages to their stables, it will be their duty to swiftly overtake the pursuers, and, as they pass them, fling the explosives under the horses’ feet, disabling or killing them. It will take the police some time to obtain other horses, and be- fore they can do so, all traces of us will be lost. If necessary, our friends will not hesitate to blow up the spies as well as the horses.’'
“But,” I suggested, “will they not identify the man who rented the houses? ”
Maximilian laughed.
“Why,” said he, “my dear Gabriel, you would make a conspirator yourself. We will have to get you into the Brotherhood. We are too old to be caught that way. The man who rented the houses has been brought here from a city hundreds of miles distant; he was thoroughly disguised. As soon as he engaged the buildings, and paid one month’s rent in advance for each, he left the city ; and before to- morrow night he will be home again, and without his disguise ; and he could never be suspected or iden- tified as the same man. And,” he added, “I do not propose that you shall go into that lion’s den unsup- ported. We will have twenty of the Brotherhood,
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under Rudolph’s management, scattered through the household, as servants ; and three hundred more will be armed to the teeth and near at hand in the neigh- borhood; and if it becomes necessary they will storm the house and burn it over the villains’ heads, rather than that you or Estella shall come to harm.”
I pressed his hand warmly, and thanked him for his care of me, and of one so dear to me.
He laughed. “That is all right,” he said; “good and unselfish men are so scarce in this world that one cannot do too much for them. We must be careful lest, like the dodo and the great auk, the breed be- comes extinct.”
“But,” said I, “may not the Oligarchy find you out, even here?”
“ No,” he replied, “ my identity is lost. Here I live, in my real appearance, under a false name. But I have a house elsewhere, in which I dwell disguised, but under my real name, and with an unreal character. Here I am a serious, plotting conspirator ; there I am a dissipated, reckless, foolish spendthrift, of whom no man need be afraid. It chanced that after certain events had occurred, of which I may tell you some day, I did not return home for several years; and then I came for revenge, with ample preparations for my own safety. I resumed my old place in society with a new appearance and a new character. That personage is constantly watched by spies ; but he spends his time in drunkenness and deeds of folly; and his enemies laugh and say, ‘ He will never trouble us ; he will be dead soon.’ And so, with the real name and the unreal appearance and character in one place, and a false name, but the real appearance and character, in another, I lead a dual life and thwart the
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cunning of my enemies, and prepare for the day of my vengeance.”
His eyes glowed with a baleful light as he spoke, and I could see that some great injustice, “like eager droppings into milk,” had soured an otherwise lov- ing and affectionate nature. I put my hand on his and said :
“My dear Max, your enemies are my enemies and your cause my cause, from henceforth forever.”
His face beamed with delight, as he replied :
“ I may some day, my dear Gabriel, hold you to that pledge.”
“Agreed,” I responded ; “ at all times I am ready.”
He gave his agent a roll of money, and with mutual courtesies they separated.
CHAPTER XI.
HOW THE WORLD CAME TO BE RUINED.
We were uneasy, restless, longing for the night to come. To while away the time we conversed upon subjects that were near our hearts.
I said to Maximilian while he paced the room :
^•How did this dreadful state of affairs, in which the world now finds itself, arise ? Were there no warn- ings uttered by any intelligent men ? Did the world drift blindly and unconsciously into this condition? ’’
^^No,” said Maximilian, going to his library; ^^no; even a hundred years ago the air was full of prophe- cies. Here,” he said, laying his hand upon a book, is The Century Magazine, of February, 1889 ; and on page 622 we read :
' For my own part, I must confess my fears that, unless some important change is made in the constitution of our voting popu- lation, the breaking strain upon our political system will come within halt a century. Is it not evident that our present tendencies are in the wrong direction ? The rapidly increasing use of money in elections, for the undisguised purchase of votes, and the grow- ing disposition to tamper with the ballot and the tally-sheet, are some of the symptoms. . . . Do you think that you will con-
vince the average election officer that it is a great crime to cheat in the return of votes, when he knows that a good share of those votes have been purchased with money? No; the machinery of the election will not be kept free from fraud while the atmosphere about the polls reeks with bribery. The system will all go down together. In a constituency which can be bribed all the forms of law tend swiftly to decay.
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“And here,” he said, picking up another volume, “is a reprint of the choicest gems of The North Ameri- can Review. In the number for March, 1889, Gen. L. S. Bryce, a member of Congress, said :
We live in a commercial age— not in a military age; and the shadow that is stealing over the American landscape partakes of a commercial character. In short, the shadow is of an unbridled plutocracy^ caused, created and cemented in no slight degree by legislative, aldermanic and congressional action; a plutocracy that is far more wealthy than any aristocracy that has ever crossed the horizon of the world^s history, and one that has been produced in a shorter consecutive period; the names of whose members are emblazoned, not on the pages of their nation’s glory, but of its peculations ; w^ho represent no struggle for their coun- try’s liberties, but for its boodle; no contests for Magna Charta, but railroad charters ; and whose octopus-grip is extending over every branch of industry ; a plutocracy which controls the price of the bread that we eat, the price of the sugar that sweetens our cup, the price of the oil that lights us on our way, the price of the very coffins in which we are finally buried ; a plutocracy which en- courages no kindly relation between landlord and tenant, which has so little sense of its political duties as even to abstain from voting, and which, in short, by its effrontery, is already causing the unthinking masses to seek relief in communism, in single-tax- ism, and in every other ism, which, if ever enforced, would infallibly make their second state worse than the first.
“And here are hundreds of warnings of the same kind. Even the President of the United States, in that same year, 1889, uttered this significant lan- guage :
Those who use unlawful methods, if moved by no higher mo- tive than the selfishness that prompted them, may well stop and inquire. What is to be the end of this ?
“ Bishop Potter, of New York, in the national cere- monies, held April 30, 1889, which marked the cen- tennial anniversary of the first inauguration of
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George Washington, spoke of the plutocracy, which had already reached alarming proportions, and expressed his doubts whether the Republic would ever celebrate another centennial. Afterwards, in explaining his remarks, he said :
When I speak of this as the era of the plutocrats, nobody can misunderstand me. Everybody has recognized the rise of the money power. Its growth not merely stifles the independence of the people, but the blind believers in this omnipotent power of money assert that its liberal use condones every offense. The pulpit does not speak out as it should. These plutocrats are the enemies of religion, as they are of the state. And, not to mince matters, I will say that, while I had the politicians in mind promi- nently, there “ are others.” I tell you I have heard the corrupt use of money in elections and the sale of the sacred right of the ballot openly defended by ministers of the gospel. I may And it necessary to put such men of the sacred office in the public pillory.
“And Bishop Spalding, of Peoria, Illinois, about the same time, said :
Mark my words,- the saloon in America has become a public nuisance. The liquor trade, by meddling with politics and corrupt- ing politics, has become a menace and a danger. Those who think and those who love America and those who love liberty are going to bring this moral question into politics more and more; also this question of bribery, this question of lobbying, this question of getting measures through state and national legislatures by cor- rupt means. They are going to be taken hold of. Our press, which has done so much to enlighten our people, which represents so much that is good in our civilization, must also be reformed. It must cease to pander to such an extent to the low and sensual appetites of man. My God, man is animal enough ! You don’t want to pander to his pruriency! You don’t want to pander to the beast that is in him. . . . Our rich men— and they are
numerous, and their wealth is great — their number and their wealth will increase — but our rich men must do their duty or perish. I tell you, in America, we will not tolerate vast wealth in the hands of men who do nothing for the people.
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“And here is a still more remarkable article, by Dr. William Barry, in The Forum for April, 1889. He speaks of —
The concrete system of capitalism, which in its present shape is not much more than a century old, and goes back to Ark- wright’s introduction of the spinning- jenny in 1776 — that notable year— as to its hegira or divine epoch of creation.
‘‘And again he says :
This it is that justifies Von Hartmann’s description of the nineteenth century as “the most irreligious that has ever been seen;” this and not the assault upon dogma or the decline of the churches. There is a depth below atheism, below anti-religion, and into that the age has fallen. It is the callous indifference to every- thing which does not make for wealth. . . . Whatis eloquently de- scribed as “the progress of civilization,” as “material prosperity,” and “unexampled wealth,” or, more modestly, as “the rise of the industrial middle class,” becomes, when we look into it with eyes purged from economic delusions, the creation of a “lower and lowest’ ’ class, without land of their own, without homes, tools or property beyond the strength of their hands ; whose lot is more helplessly wretched than any poet of the Inferno has yet imagined. Sunk in the mire of ignorance, want and immorality, they seem to have for their only gospel the emphatic words attributed to Mr. Euskin : “ If there is a next world they will be damned ; and if there is none, they are damned already.” . . . Have all these things come to pass that the keeper of a whisky-shop in California may grow rich on the spoils of drunken miners, and great financiers dictate peace and war to venerable European monarchies? The most degraded superstition that ever called itself religion has not preached such a dogma as this. It falls below fetichism. The worship of the al- mighty dollar, incarnate in the self-made capitalist, is a deification at which Vespasian himself, with his puto, deus ^o,” would stare and gasp.
“And this remarkable article concludes with these words of prophecy :
The agrarian difficulties of Eussia, France, Italy, Ireland, and of wealthy England, show us that ere long the urban and the
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rural populations will be standing in the same camp. They will be demanding the abolition of that great and scandalous paradox whereby, though production has increased three or four times as much as the mouths it should fill, those mouths are empty. The backs it should clothe are naked; the heads it should shelter, home- less ; the brains it should feed, dull or criminal, and. the souls it should help to save, brutish. Surely it is time that science, morality and religion should speak out. A great change is coming. It is even now at our doors. Ought not men of good will to consider how they shall receive it, so that its coming may be peaceable ?
“And here,” Max added, “is the great work of Prof. Scheligan, in which he quotes from The Forum, of December, 1889, p. 464, a terrible story of the rob- beries practiced on the farmers by railroad companies and money-lenders. The railroads in 1882 took, he tells us, one-half of the entire wheat crop of Kansas to carry the other half to market ! In the thirty- eight years following 1850 the railroad interest of the United States increased 1580 per cent.; the bank- ing interest 918 per cent., and the farming interest only 252 per cent. A man named Thomas G. Shear- man showed, in 1889, that 100,000 persons in the United States would, in thirty years, at the rate at which wealth was being concentrated in the hands of the few, own three-hfths of all the property of the entire country. The American Economist asserted, in 1889, that in twenty-five years the number of people in the United States who owned their own homes had fallen from five-eighths to three- eighths. A paper called The Progress, of Boston, in 1889, gave the following significant and prophetic figures ;
The eloquent Patrick Henry said: “We can only judge thv future by the past.”
Look at the past :
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When Egypt went down 2 per cent, of her population owned 97 per cent, of her wealth. The people were starved to death.
When Babylon went down 2 per cent, of her population owned all the wealth. The people were starved to death.
When Persia went down 1 per cent, of her population owned the land.
When Eome went down 1,800 men owned all the known world.
There are about 40,000,000 people in England, Ireland and Wales, and 100,000 people own all the land in the United King- dom.
For the past twenty years the United States has rapidly followed in the steps of these old nations. Here are the figures:
In 1850 capitalists owned 371^ per cent, of the nation’s wealth.
In 1870 they owned 63 per cent.
“In 1889, out of 1,500,000 people living in New York City, 1,100,000 dwelt in tenement-houses.
“At the same time farm-lands, east and west, had fallen, in twenty-five years, to one-third or one-half their cost. State Assessor Wood, of New York, declared, in 1889, that, in his opinion, 4n a few de- cades there will be none but tenant farmers in this State.’*
“In 1889 the farm mortgages in the Western States amounted to three billion four hundred and twenty-two million dollars.”
“Did these wonderful utterances and most sig- nificant statistics,” I asked, “produce no effect on that age?”
“ None at all,” he replied. “ ‘ Wisdom cries in the streets, and no man regards her.’ The small voice of Philosophy was unheard amid the blare of the trumpets that heralded successful knavery ; the rabble ran headlong to the devil after gauds and tinsel.”
^See Popular Science Monthly, November, 1889, p. 28.
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“Have there been,” 1 asked, “no later notes of warning of the coming catastrophe? ”
“ Oh, yes,” he replied; “ ten thousand. All through the past century the best and noblest of each genera- tion, wherever and whenever they could find news- papers or magazines that dared to publish their utterances, poured forth, in the same earnest tones, similar prophecies and appeals. But in vain. Each generation found thecondition of things more desper- ate and hopeless : every year multiplied the calami- ties of the world. The fools could not see that a great cause must continue to operate until checked by some higher power. And here there was no higher power that desired to check it. As the domination and arrogance of the ruling class increased^, the ca- pacity of the lower classes to resist, within the limits of law and constitution, decreased. Every avenue, in fact, was blocked by corruption. Juries, courts, legis- latures, congresses, they were as if they were not. The people were walled in by impassable barriers. Nothing was left them but the primal, brute instincts of the animal man, and upon these they fell back, and the Brotherhood of Destruction arose. But no words can tell the sufferings that have been endured by the good men, here and there, who, during the past cen- tury, tried to save mankind. Some were simply ostracised from social intercourse wdth their caste ; others were deprived of their means of living and forced down into the ranks of the wretched ; and still others” — and here, I observed, his face grew ashy pale, and the muscles about his mouth twitched nerv- ously— “still others had their liberty sworn away by purchased perjury, and w'ere consigned to prisons, where they still languish, dressed in the hideous garb
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of ignominy, and performing the vile tasks of felons.” After a panse, for I saw he was strangely disturbed, I said to him :
“ How comes it that the people have so long sub- mitted to these great wrongs ? Did they not resist ?”
“They did,” he replied; “but the fruit of the tree of evil was not yet ripe. At the close of the nineteenth century, in all the great cities of America, there was a terrible outbreak of the workingmen; they de- stroyed much property and many lives, and held possession of the cities for several days. But the national government called for volunteers, and hun- dreds of thousands of warlike young men, sons of farmers, sprang to arms : and, after several terrible battles, they suppressed the revolution, with the slaughter of tens of thousands of those who took oart in it; while afterwards the revengeful Oligarchy sent thousands of others to the gallows. And since then, in Europe and America, there have been other outbreaks, but all of them terminated in the same way. The condition of the world has, however, steadily grown worse and worse; the laboring classes have become more and more desperate. The farmers’ sons could, for generations, be counted upon to fight the workmen ; but the fruit has been steadily ripen- ing. Now the yeomanry have lost possession of their lands; their farms have been sold under their feet; cunning laws transferred the fruit of their industry into the pockets of great combinations, who loaned it back to them again, secured by mortgages ; and, as the pressure of the same robbery still continued, they at last lost their homes by means of the very wealth they had themselves produced. Now a single nabob owns a whole county ; and a state is divided
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between a few great loan associations ; and the men who once tilled the fields, as their owners, are driven to the cities to swell the cohorts of the miserable, or remain on the land a wretched peasantry, to contend for the means of life with vile hordes of Mon- golian coolies. And all this in sight of the ruins of the handsome homes their ancestors once occupied ! Hence the materials for armies have disappeared. Human greed has eaten away the very foundations on which it stood. And of the farmers who still re- main nearly all are now members of our Brother- hood. When the Great Day comes, and the nation sends forth its call for volunteers, as in the past, that cry will echo in desolate places ; or it will ring through the triumphant hearts of savage and des- perate men who are hastening to the banquet of blood and destruction. And the wretched, yellow, under-fed coolies, with women’s garments over thejr effeminate limbs, will not have the courage or the desire or the capacity to make soldiers and defend them oppressors.”
“But have not the Oligarchy standing armies?” I asked.
“Yes. In Europe, however, they have been con- strained, by inability to wring more taxes from the impoverished people, to gradually diminish their numbers. There, you know, the real government is now a coterie of bankers, mostly Israelites ; and the kings and queens, and so-called presidents, are mere toys and puppets in their hands. All idea of national glory, all chivalry, all pride, all battles for terri- tory or supremacy have long since ceased. Europe is a banking association conducted exclusively for the benefit of the bankers. Bonds take the place
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of national aspirations. To squeeze the wretched is the great end of government ; to toil and submit, the destiny of the peoples.
“The task which Hannibal attempted, so disas- trously, to subject the Latin and mixed-Gothic races of Europe to the domination of the Semitic blood, as represented in the merchant-city of Carthage, has been successfully accomplished in these latter days by the cousins of the Phoenicians, the Israelites. The nomadic children of Abraham have fought and schemed their way, through infinite depths of per- secution, from their tents on the plains of Palestine, to a power higher than the thrones of Europe. The world is to-day Semitized. The children of Japhet lie prostrate slaves at the feet of the children of Shem; and the sons of Ham bow humbly before their august dominion.
“ The standing armies of Europe are now simply armed police ; for, as all the nations are owned by one power — the money power — there is no longer any danger of their assaulting each other. But in the greed of the sordid commercial spirit which domi- nates the continent they have reduced, not only the numbers, but the pay of the soldiers, until it is little better than the compensation earned by the wretched loeasantry and the mechanics; while years of peace ond plunder have made the rulers careless and secure. Hence our powerful association has spread among these people like wild-fire : the very armies are honey- combed with our ideas, and many of the soldiers belong to the Brotherhood.
‘ Here, in America, they have been wise enough to pay the soldiers of their standing army better sala- ries; and hence they do not so readily sympathize
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with oui’ purposes. But we outiminber them ten to one, and do not fear them. There is, however, one great obstacle which we have not yet seen the way to over- come. More than a century ago, you know, dirigible air-ships were invented. The Oligarchy have a large force of several thousands of these, sheathed with that light but strong metal, aluminium ; in popular speech they are known as The Demons. Sailing over a hostile force, they drop into its midst great bombs, loaded with the most deadly explosives, mixed with bullets ; and, where one of these strikes the ground, it looks like the crater of an extinct volcano ; while leveled rows of dead are strewed in every direction around it. But this is not all. Some years since a French chemist discovered a dreadful preparation, a subtle poison, which, falling upon the ground, being heavier than the air and yet expansive, rolls, ‘ like a slow blot that spreads,’ steadily over the earth in all directions, bringing sudden death to those that breathe it. The Frenchman sold the secret of its preparation to the Oligarchy for a large sum; but he did not long enjoy his ill-gotten wealth. He was found dead in his bed the next day, poisoned by the air from a few drops of his owm invention ; killed, it is supposed, by the governments, so that they would possess forever the exclusive monopoly of this terrible instrument of slaughter. It is upon this that they principally rely for defense from the uprisings of the oppressed people. These air-ships, ‘the Demons,’ are furnished with bombs, loaded with this powerful poison; and, when an outbreak occurs, they sail, like great, foul birds, dark-winged and terrible, over the insurgents; they let fall a single bomb, which inspires such terror in the multitude that those not 8
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instantaneously killed by the poison fly with the utmost speed; and the contest is at an end. We have long labored to bring the men who arm these air-ships, and who manufacture this poison, into our organization, but so far without success. The Oligarchy knows their value, and pays them well. We have, however, bribed one or two of their men, not themselves in the secret, but who have inspired the others to make demand after demand upon the government for increased pay, knowing that they held everything in their power. The Oli- garchy has been constrained to yield to these demands, which have only led, under our inspiration, to still greater claims ; and it is our hope that before long the rulers will refuse to go farther in that direc- tion ; and then, in the discontent that will inevitably follow, the men will yield to our approaches. It will be the old story over again — the army that was called in to defend effete Eome at last took posses- sion of the empire and elected the emperors. This is the fate that cruelty and injustice ultimately bring upon their own heads — they are devoured by their instruments. As Manfred says :
“ ‘ The spirits I have raised abandon me ;
The spells that I had recked of torture me.’ ”
“You are right,” I replied ; “there is nothing that will insure permanent peace but universal justice: that is the only soil that grows no poisons. Univer- sal justice means equal opportunities for all men and a repression by law of those gigantic abnormal selfishnesses which ruin millions for the benefit of thousands. In the old days selfishness took the form of conquest, and the people were reduced to
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serfs. Then, in a later age, it assumed the shape of individual robbery and murder. Laws were made against tliese crimes. Then it broke forth in the shape of subtle combinations, ^ rings,’ or ^trusts,’ as they called them, corporations, and all the other cunning devices of the day, some of which scarcely manifested themselves on the surface, but which transferred the substance of one man into the pockets of another, and reduced the people to slavery as completely and inevitably as ever the robber barons of old did the original owners of the soil of Europe.”
imPTER XII.
Gabriel’s utopia.
“ But what would you do, my good Gabriel,” said Maximilian, smiling, “if th^ reformation of the world were placed in your hands? Every man has an Utopia in his head. Give me some idea of yours.”
“First,” I said, “I should do away with all inter- est on money. Interest on money is the root and ground of the world’s troubles. It puts one man in a position of safety, while another is in a condition of insecurity, and thereby it at once creates a radical distinction in human society. ”
“ How do you make that out? ” he asked.
“ The lender takes a mortgage on the borrower’s land 'or house, or goods, for, we will say, one-half or one-third their value; the borrower then assumes all the chances of life in his efforts to repay the loan. If he is a farmer, he has to run the risk of the fickle elements. Rains may drown, droughts may burn up his crops. If a merchant, he encounters all the haz- ards of trade ; the bankruptcy of other tradesmen ; the hostility of the elements sweeping away agri- culture, and so affecting commerce; the tempests that smite his ships, etc. If a mechanic, he is still more dependent upon the success of all above him, and the mutations of commercial prosperity. He may lose employment ; he may sicken ; he may die. But behind all these risks stands the money-lender, in perfect security. The failure of his customer only
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enriches him; for he takes for his loan property worth twice or thrice the sum he has advanced upon it. Given a million of men and a hundred years of time, and the slightest advantage possessed by any one class among the million must result,, in the'long run, in the most startling discrepancies of condition. A little evil grows like a ferment — it never ceases to operate; it is always at work. Suppose I' bring before you a handsome, rosy-cheeked young man, full of life and hope and health. I touch his lip with a single bacillus of phthisis pulmonalis — consumption. It is invisible to the eye; it is too small to be weighed. Judged by all the tests of the senses, it is too insig- nificant to be thought of; but it has the capacity to multiply itself indefinitely. The youth goes off sing- ing. Months, perhaps years, pass before the deadly disorder begins to manifest itself; but in time the step loses its elasticity; the eyes become dull; the roses fade from the cheeks ; the strength departs, and event- ually the joyous youth is but a shell — a cadaverous, shrunken form, inclosing a shocking mass of putrid- ity; and death ends the dreadful scene. Give one set of men in a community a financial advantage over the rest, however slight — it may be almost invis- ible— and at the end of centuries that class so favored will own everything and wreck the country. A penny, they say, put out at interest the day Columbus sailed from Spain, and compounded ever since, would amount now to more than all the assessed value of all the property, real, personal and mixed, on the two continents of North and South America.”
“But,” said Maximilian, “how would the men get along who wanted to borrow?”
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“ The necessity to borrow is one of tne results of borrowing. The disease produces the symptoms. The men who are enriched by borrowing are in- finitely less in number than those who are ruined by it ; and every disaster to the- middle class swells the number and decreases the opportunities of the helplessly poor. Money in itself is valueless. It becomes valuable only by use — by exchange for things needful for life or comfort. If money could not be loaned, it would have to be put out by the owner