Sunrise | Page 3

you know, one must use
sometimes; it is an inducement to many--most people are fond of a
little mystery; and it is harmless."
Brand said nothing; Lord Evelyn thought he might have been at least
civil. But when an Englishman is determined on being stiff, his
stiffness is gigantic.
"If I were to show you some of the tricks of this very room," said this
grizzled old foreigner with the boyish neck-tie, "you might call me a
charlatan; but would that be fair? We have to make use of various
means for what we consider a good end, a noble end; and there are
many people who love mystery and secrecy. With you English it is
different--you must have everything above-board."
The pale, fine face of the sensitive lad sitting there became clouded
over with disappointment. He had brought this old friend of his with
some vague hope that he might become a convert, or at least be
sufficiently interested to make inquiries; but Brand sat silent, with a
cold indifference that was only the outward sign of an inward

suspicion.
"Sometimes, it is true," continued Mr. Lind, in nowise disconcerted,
"we stumble on the secrets of others. Our association has innumerable
feelers: and we make it our business to know what we can of
everything that is going on. For example, I could tell you of an odd
little incident that occurred last year in Constantinople. A party of four
gentlemen were playing cards there in a private room."
Brand started. The man who was speaking took no notice.
"There were two Austrian officers, a Roumanian count, and an
Englishman," he continued, in the most matter-of-fact way. "It was in a
private room, as I said. The Englishman was, after a time, convinced
that the Roumanian was cheating; he caught his wrist--showed the false
cards; then he managed to ward off the blow of a dagger which the
Roumanian aimed at him, and by main force carried him to the door
and threw him down-stairs. It was cleverly done, but the Englishman
was very big and strong. Afterward the two Austrian officers, who
knew the Verdt family, begged the Englishman never to reveal what
had occurred; and the three promised secrecy. Was not that so?"
The man looked up carelessly. The Englishman's apathy was no longer
visible.
"Y-yes," he stammered.
"Would you like to know what became of Count Verdt?" he asked, with
an air of indifference.
"Yes, certainly," said the other.
"Ah! Of course you know the Castel' del Ovo?"
"At Naples? Yes."
"You remember that out at the point, beside the way that leads from the
shore to the fortress, there are many big rocks, and the waves roll about

there. Three weeks after you caught Count Verdt cheating at cards, his
dead body was found floating there."
"Gracious heavens!" Brand exclaimed, with his face grown pale. And
then he added, breathlessly, "Suicide?"
Mr. Lind smiled.
"No. Reassure yourself. When they picked out the body from the water,
they found the mouth gagged, and the hands tied behind the back."
Brand stared at this man.
"Then you--?" He dared not complete the question.
"I? Oh, I had nothing to do with it, any more than yourself. It was a
Camorra affair."
He had been speaking quite indifferently; but now a singular change
came over his manner.
"And if I had had something to do with it?" he said, vehemently; and
the dark eyes were burning with a quick anger under the heavy brows.
Then he spoke more slowly, but with a firm emphasis in his speech. "I
will tell you a little story; it will not detain you, sir. Suppose that you
have a prison so overstocked with political prisoners that you must
keep sixty or seventy in the open yard adjoining the outer wall. You
have little to fear; they are harmless, poor wretches; there are several
old men--two women. Ah! but what are the poor devils to do in those
long nights that are so dark and so cold? However they may huddle
together, they freeze; if they keep not moving, they die; you find them
dead in the morning. If you are a Czar you are glad of that, for your
prisons are choked; it is very convenient. And, then suppose you have a
clever fellow who finds out a narrow passage between the
implement-house and the wall; and he says, 'There, you can work all
night at digging a passage out; and who in the morning will suspect?' Is
not that a fine discovery, when one must keep moving in the dark to
prevent one's self stiffening into a corpse? Oh yes; then you find the

poor devils, in their madness, begin to tear the ground up; what tools
have they but their fingers, when the