My first thought about the meeting was that I had misjudged, in an almost ludicrous manner, what the proceedings would be. My nerves were, no doubt, a little overstrung by the events of the past day or two: the dramatic exaggeration which had characterized almost every gesture and action of the Corsican, the actual evidence of my own eyes of the ruthless intensity of purpose with which these people pursued their plans, and my own exceeding conventional conceptions of what such a plot as this would be, had led me to anticipate some sort of more or less theatrical exhibition of conspiracy at the meeting. But there was nothing of the kind.

The men dropped in one after another, just as they might into any small social gathering, chatted with each other, grouped themselves in twos and threes, joked and laughed, discussed the latest scandal, exchanged notes on the newest play, and for a long time talked of nothing but the subjects on which any of them found a common surface interest. All of them made occasion to come to me and exchange a word or two: How I liked Munich, whether I had been to the opera, if I took any interest in the races, had I heard of the new military order from Berlin, and so on. Nothing more. Yet each contrived to convey that he was very glad to see me present, leaving me to infer anything more.

After a considerable time, the man whom von Nauheim had mentioned to me most often, Baron Heckscher, one of the wealthiest men in Munich, and the strongest leader in the scheme, came across and began to talk to me. He said he took the greatest interest in me; that it was a matter of great regret I had been so long absent from Munich and Gramberg; and that the honor of the great title I bore was an enormous responsibility for so young a man.

"But I am sure you will prove equal to it, Prince. Our conversations during these last few days have convinced me of this. You will play a great part in the kingdom and—who shall say?—perhaps in the Empire."

I murmured some conventional reply, and he added:

"There is only one thing against you. You will need wealth. The Gramberg estates should have gone with the title. I cannot understand my old friend's will. But that can be, and, of course, will be, rectified."

"I am not very ambitious of a State career," I replied, appreciating the proffered bribe.

"The State has need of all her strong men, Prince," he answered readily, "and she would be jealous of desertion; she cannot spare you. We old men have had our day, and it is part of our duty, and, despite the jealousies of some of us, part of our pleasure too, to mark out the rising men—the men worthy to rise, that is—and see that they have their opportunities. In the time that is coming you will have a magnificent part, for the actualities of power are not on, but around, the throne."

In this way he led adroitly round to the subject, and I knew that all his flattery was just so much verbiage. He had had no opportunities of telling whether I was a fool or a genius.

"There is a great deal of doubt about the future," said I sententiously; "but to have earned the good opinion of so shrewd a judge of men as yourself is much."

If he could flatter, so could I.

He paused a moment, and then, in a slightly lower tone, and with a suggestion of increased importance, he said, motioning toward von Nauheim:

"Our friend has told me your very shrewd doubts as to the probable action of those at Berlin. They are very natural, and you are quite right to express them; but—there is no fear on that score. The Imperial Government is as sick of the vagaries of the King as we Bavarians ourselves. He is a constant anxiety. You will see why. A madman on a throne is a standing menace to the principle of the Divine Right on which a monarchy must in reality depend. They will not interfere, because openly they dare not countenance a movement to upset a throne."

And he went on to give me elaborate arguments to explain away my doubts. I listened very carefully, stated my objections, and discussed them all; and then allowed myself to appear to be won round by his persuasion to the view that when once the plot were carried to a successful climax Berlin would recognize the new position and acquiesce in it. This I believed myself, moreover.

As I held the clew to his real motives, I was greatly interested to note the subtlety with which he avoided the points that were more closely concerned with the duplicity of the inner plot, and dwelt on those where he could be sincere.

"It will depend greatly on the solidarity of the movement and the loyalty to each other of all concerned in it," I said at the close.

"That is the pith and marrow of it all; and of that there cannot be a doubt. There are some twenty of us here," he exclaimed, with a wave of the hand round the room; "and each of us represents and can speak for at least one strong interest and section. Besides, we are not groping in the dark. I myself have secured assurances from Berlin. We have not a weak link."

He stopped, and looked at me with an invitation to make my declaration.

I noticed, too, that in some way the fact had communicated itself to the rest of those present that the moment of importance had arrived. They had at first drawn a little away from the table at which we two sat; and I had seen many little quick glances shot in our direction during the discussion between the baron and myself; but there had been no check in the general flow of chatter.

Now, however, there was a decided lull, save where one man was telling noisily an incident in which he had been the principal and was laughing at his own joke. The rest were for the most part smoking stolidly with only low murmurs of broken talk.

Von Nauheim was restless and fidgety, champing his cigar with quick, nervous bites, and blowing out the smoke rapidly in heavy puffs, and stealing furtive glances at me.

The situation was just as I would have had it. I had effectually concealed the fact that I had entered the room resolved to join them, and had produced the impression that at the last moment the baron's arguments had talked away my doubts. I kept my face impassive and set, as though weighing my words to the last moment.

"We shall go on with you, baron," I said quietly; "but of course under conditions."

"How can you make conditions, Prince?" he asked; and now the whole room was waiting upon our words.

"There must be a fresh declaration of allegiance to the Countess Minna as the future Queen."

"We are already pledged, every man of us, Prince," he returned.

"My uncle's death has altered matters," I answered. "And the declaration will be signed by all concerned here to-night and in my presence."

"That is scarcely necessary, as we have signed already. But if you make a point of it, yes."

"I do press it," I said firmly.

I had a strong reason which they did not yet see. I paused a moment before I made my next move, for it was a strong one.

"Again, as my uncle's death is so recent, it will not be seemly—indeed, it is impossible—for my cousin's marriage with the Count von Nauheim to take place until after she is on the throne—unless, indeed, all matters are postponed until a sufficient interval takes place."

I counted much on this stroke, and that it was a shrewd one was instantly apparent. It was, indeed, nothing less than a sharp test of the loyalty of every man present, and it started warm discussion among them all, several protests being made.

The avowed object of the marriage was to cement the co-operation of the powerful section of which Baron Heckscher was the head, by securing half the royal power to their representative; but the secret motive, as I knew, was to render Minna personally unfit to be Queen. Thus to postpone the marriage until after she was actually on the throne seemed on the surface to destroy the very pith of the inner plot, and so to wreck the Ostenburg plans altogether. Hence those who were for that interest felt bound to oppose the suggestion, while those who were genuinely for us would admit its reasonableness. To the one side it meant failure, and to the other, at the worst, mere postponement; and my object was thus to detach the latter and see who were really our friends. To my dismay there were but two in the room, and these the least influential; but I marked them closely while I stuck doggedly to my point.

It was the Baron Heckscher who came to the rescue.

"I have been waiting to hear the general opinion," he said—he had been sitting rapt in deep thought—"and I do not see there is any solid objection to the condition. We are all aware that this marriage, like most Court nuptials, has been arranged for certain definite purposes"—and he glanced round the room with an effect I did not fail to observe. "And if proper guarantees of these purposes are afforded, I do not see any objection. We are merely gaining the same end by slightly different means. As Count von Nauheim carries certain interests on his shoulders in the marriage, all we have to see is that those interests are protected."

It was most adroitly wrapped up, but I knew too much to be deceived; and as I had now gained my end—the separation of the sheep from the wolves in this assorted pack—I said no more than to agree that any desired guarantees should be given.

"The other condition is perhaps fanciful, as it is certainly personal," I said, "and it is somewhat connected with that which we have just discussed. My cousin, the Countess Minna, cannot, of course, go forward in a hazardous work of this kind, now we are agreed the marriage must be postponed, without a male relative to guide and counsel her. And as we Grambergs have been so unfortunate as to lose two prominent members, there is only myself remaining. One of us, my cousin Gustav, certainly lost his life in this cause, through the treachery of the Ostenburg agents, and therefore we look to you all—I look to you all, gentlemen"—and here I raised my voice slightly—"to secure me against an attack from any source that may threaten my life. I know I do not count on you in vain, because you are all loyal to the cause; but there is an additional and very special reason for my thus calling on you. Upon my life and safety the continuance or end of this scheme depends, so far as my cousin Minna is concerned. You may need to redouble your vigilance against our enemies, and to strain your efforts to the utmost to anticipate and prevent attacks upon me; but understand quite clearly that if you suffer me to be attacked and to fall, at that moment my cousin will withdraw from the scheme, and openly abandon all claim to the throne."

The disconcerting effect of this short speech was profound.

A dead silence fell on the room for a few moments, and I am bound to confess that I enjoyed immensely the general consternation. It appeared to me the strongest confirmation I could have had of the existence of a plot against my life, and that this move of mine was regarded as a checkmate. But I shut out of my face every expression save one of a kind of friendly expectation of personal assurances of agreement.

"Why I paused before replying, Prince," said Baron Heckscher presently, "was merely that, while I am confident there is not a man in the room, nor among all the thousands for whom we can speak, who would not cheerfully risk his life in defence of one so valuable—indeed, so essential—to the cause and the country as your own, it is a little difficult for us to pledge ourselves to abandon a cause for which we have made such sacrifices, and incurred such tremendous personal risks, should accident intervene to harm you."

He was talking to gain time, I could see that easily enough.

"There was no one found ready to defend my cousin Gustav from a man who was no better than an assassin," I said, somewhat curtly. "And I have heard that the man is still mixing with some of you."

Von Nauheim's tell-tale face paled at this thrust.

"Your cousin's rashness was the cause of that quarrel, Prince," said the baron, "and it was all against our advice and our most earnest entreaty that the duel ever took place. As to Praga's connection with the matter since, you know, of course, that in affairs of this kind we must use as instruments such as we find ready to hand. But his connection with the movement is of the flimsiest and most superficial kind."

"My cousin's death remains unavenged," I answered sternly.

"It will not remain so," said the baron significantly.

"No, indeed," I returned, intentionally misunderstanding him, "for I myself will call the man to account."

"Not until after our plans have been carried through."

"At the first moment I meet with him," said I, with an air of recklessness.

"This must not be!" exclaimed the baron quickly. "Do you not see what you are doing, Prince? You tell us that if you fall the Countess Minna will desert us and abandon the whole movement on the very eve of its success; and yet in the next breath you declare that you are going to court death by fighting a duel with one of the greatest masters of fencing in Europe. Would you wreck the whole scheme?"

"I would avenge my cousin's death!" I cried sternly. "Unless, indeed, the Count von Nauheim, as a future member of the family, or some other gentleman here, is loyal enough to us to take up this work."

"I do not fight with hired bravos," growled von Nauheim.

"There is no man in Bavaria can stand before that Praga's sword," said the baron, while I enjoyed his perplexity.

"Well, then, call the man out and shoot him!" I exclaimed brutally. "But, in all truth, I can't for the life of me understand, since you are all afraid of his sword-play, why you allowed Gustav to meet him."

"We had not then had this fearful evidence of his skill; and your cousin denied it, and believed him an impostor," said the baron.

"Nor do I believe in it," I answered vehemently, and I saw that I had produced the impression I wished of extreme caution in some things, coupled with recklessness in others, and had made them believe me thoroughly in earnest in my condition that, if my life were taken, my cousin Minna would go no farther. I had no wish to press matters any more, therefore.

"You are a true Gramberg, Prince, it is easy to see," said the baron, smiling uneasily. "And I fear you will give us trouble."

I meant to, but not of the kind as anticipated.

"That may be," I replied, ungraciously and curtly. "But now, if you please, as to these conditions."

"We can accept them if you will pledge yourself to take no rash action in hazarding your life until we have succeeded. Otherwise I for one shall withdraw, even now."

I could have laughed aloud at the firm, decisive tone in which he said this—for it was the proof of how I had turned the tables upon them. I hesitated before replying, as if to think.

"Yes, it is fair that I should give such a pledge," I said then. "I will wait. It will not be long."

"In a fortnight, by the grace of God, all will be effected," cried Baron Heckscher fervently. Then, rising, he said with enthusiasm: "Gentlemen, to our future Queen—Queen Minna of Bavaria. May the blessing of God light upon her, and let her bring peace to this distracted State. In the name of God I swear allegiance to the new ruler of Bavaria."

He raised his right hand on high as he took this equivocal and falsely true oath, and every man present followed his example. It was an impressive scene, and I made haste to improve the occasion.

"We will sign the declaration now," I said quietly.

The baron produced that which had been formerly signed—a short, simply worded document pledging the signatories to allegiance; and as he appeared loath to allow the paper to pass out of his own hands, he himself copied and then burnt it. I raised no objection to this proceeding, or to the wording, which was sufficiently compromising for the purpose I had in view. The other men signed it first, and I observed that the baron hung back until the last.

"I am the last to join you, I will sign last," I said quietly, and I laid it before him.

He wished to protest, I could see, but there was no valid reason. For the present at any rate I was in the position of power.

He wrote his name slowly and, I thought, reluctantly, and when he had finished, he put the paper across the small table, and held it firmly in one hand, pointing with the other to the place where I should write my name. I saw his object was the same as my own—to get and keep possession of a paper on which the life of every man signing it might depend. But it was an essential part of my plan that I myself should have possession of the paper to use as I might afterward find necessary. And I outwitted him. Not giving a sign of my intention, I took the pen he gave me and glanced at it.

"A pen that will have a history," I said, looking at him.

Then in making a movement as of preparation to sign I dropped the pen, and as I stooped and picked it up I broke the nib designedly, exclaiming at my carelessness.

"No matter, there is another pen there," I cried hurriedly, and with a sudden pull I snatched the sheet from his grasp, carried it to another table, and signed it before he had recovered from his surprise and vexation. Then I blotted it quickly, folded it, and put it away in my pocket, as though this were the most natural and ordinary course.

But I saw the men look from one to the other with half-hidden apprehension in their glances. I knew it was a crisis, and I carried it through with a dash.

"As head of my house, and the only blood relative of our future Queen, I shall guard with religious care this declaration of your allegiance and fidelity, this charter of the new Bavarian freedom," I said, raising my voice and speaking with as much dignity as I could assume. "In my cousin's name I thank you for your help, and I promise you the most earnest, most cordial, and most generous recognition of your efforts. From this moment her life belongs to her country. For myself, I assure you that, although I am the last to join you, no man shall be found more active, resolute, and vigilant in the cause. God bless Queen Minna of Bavaria!"

They echoed the words, but there was little heartiness in the tone, except from the two men whom I knew to be loyal; and I stood on my guard, half expecting some kind of attack.

But the moment passed and nothing was said or done to thwart me; and after a few words of lying congratulation upon the evening's work from the baron, the meeting broke up.

As the men left I could tell that my acts had produced a great impression on them, and that I had at least convinced them that I was not a man with whom they could safely trifle.

But my task had only begun.