Chapter XX: The Tribunal

It was a small, ruinous chapel, the windows of which had been roughly boarded up; and, so far as I could see by the dim light cast by two oil lanterns hung on the walls, all those assembled inside were men,--about fifty in number I guessed, for the place was by no means crowded. There was a clear space at the further end, round the raised piece where the altar had once stood, and where four men were seated on a bench of some sort. I could not distinguish their faces, for they all wore their hats, and the lamplight was so dim that it only served to make the darkness visible. The atmosphere was steamy, too, for we were a drenched and draggled lot.

There was no excitement at present; one of the four men on the dais was speaking in a level monotonous voice; but, as I cautiously edged my way towards the front, I felt that this silent, sinister crowd was in deadly earnest, as was the man who was addressing it. He was speaking in Russian, and I could not make out quite all he said.

I gathered that some resolution was about to be passed, for just as I got sufficiently forward to peer round and convince myself that Anne was not there, each man present, except myself and two others, held up his right hand. I followed suit instantly, judging that to be wisest, and one of the other two--he was standing close beside me--put his up, after a momentary hesitation that I think was unnoticed save by myself. I took a sidelong glance at him. He was an elderly, distinguished looking man, with a short gray beard cut to a point, and an upturned gray mustache. He was listening intently, but, though I couldn't see his face distinctly, I got the impression that he also was a stranger, and that he understood even less than I did what was going on.

The president spoke again.

"Are there any here who are against the election of Constantine"--I could not catch the other name, which was a long Polish one, I think--"to the place on the council, vacant since the murder of our comrade, Vladimir Selinski?"

Selinski! Cassavetti! He little guessed as he spoke that the man who found Cassavetti's body was now within five paces of him!

Not a hand was raised, and the man who had not voted stepped on to the dais, in obedience to a gesture from the president, and took his seat in silence.

A hoarse murmur of approval went round; but that was all. The grim quietude of these men was more fearful than any amount of noise could have been, and, as the president raised his hand slightly, a dead silence fell.

"Remains now only that we do justice on the murderess of Selinski, the traitress who has betrayed our secrets, has frustrated many of our plans, has warned more than one of those whom we have justly doomed to death--her lover among them--with the result that they have escaped, for the present. We would not condemn her unheard, but so far she is obdurate; she defies us, endeavors once more to trick us. If she were other than she is, or rather than she has been, she would have been removed long since, when suspicion first fell upon her; but there are many of us who love her still, who would not believe her guilty without the evidence of their own eyes and ears; and therefore we have brought her here that she may speak for herself, defend herself if that is possible. It will rest with you to acquit or condemn her!"

He spoke quite quietly, but the cool, deliberate malignity of his tone was horrible; and somehow I knew that the majority of those present shared his animosity against the prisoner, although he had spoken of "many of us who love her."

The man beside me touched my arm, and spoke to me in French.

"Do you understand him?"

"Yes, do you?"

"No."

There was no time for more, for, at a signal from the president, a door at the side near the dais was opened, and a woman was led in by two men, each holding her by an arm. They released her, and she stepped back a pace, and stood against the wall, her hands pressed against it on either side, bracing herself like a royal creature at bay.

It was Anne herself, and for a moment I stood, unable to move, scarcely able to breathe. There was something almost unearthly about her beauty and courage. The feeble lamplight seemed to strengthen, and to concentrate itself on her face,--colorless save for the vivid red lips,--on her eyes, wide and brilliant with indignation, on the bright hair that shone like a queenly crown. Wrath, and scorn, and defiance were expressed by the beautiful face, the tense figure; but never a trace of fear.

They were all looking at her, as I was, in silence,--a curious hush that lasted but a few seconds, but in which I could hear the beating of my own heart; it sounded as loud as a sledge hammer.

The spell was broken by a cry from the man with the pointed beard next me who sprang forward towards her, shouting in English: "Anne! Anne! It is I, your father!"

I was only just less quick; we reached her almost together, and faced about, shielding her with our bodies, and covering those nearest us with our revolvers.

"Father! Maurice!" I heard her sob. "Oh, I knew, I knew you would come!"

"What is this devilry?" shouted Anthony Pendennis in French. "How comes my daughter here? She is a British subject, and you--you shall pay dearly--"

He got no further. Our action had been so swift, so unexpected, that the whole crowd stood still, as if paralyzed by sheer astonishment, for a few breathless seconds.

"Spies! Traitors! Kill them all!" shouted the president, springing forward, revolver in hand.

Those words were his last, for he threw up his arms and fell as my first shot got him. The rest came at us all together, like a mob of furious wild beasts. They were all armed, some with revolvers, others with the horrible little bludgeons they call "killers,"--a short heavy bar of lead set on a strong copper spring, no bigger than an ordinary round office ruler, but more deadly at close quarters than a revolver.

I flung up my left hand, tore down the lamp that hung just above us, and hurled it among them. It was extinguished as it fell, and that gave us a small advantage, for the other lamp was at the far end, and its faint light did not reach us, but only served to dimly show us our antagonists. I felt Anne sink down to the floor behind me, though whether a shot had reached her or she had fainted I did not know.

When I had emptied my revolver I dropped it, grabbed a "killer" from the hand of a fellow I had shot pointblank, and laid about me with that. I suppose Pendennis did the same. As Loris had warned me, when it came to shooting, there was no time for reloading; but the "killer" was all right. I wonder he hadn't given me one!

We were holding our own well, in spite of the tremendous odds, and after a while--though whether it was five minutes or fifty I couldn't say--they gave back a bit. There was quite a heap of dead and wounded round about us; but I don't think Anne's father was hurt as yet, and I felt no pain, though my left arm hung limp and useless, numbed by a blow from a "killer" that had missed my head; and something warm was dripping down my right wrist.

"What now?" I heard Pendennis say, in that brief lull in the pandemonium.

"God knows. We can't get to the door; we must fight it out here; they're coming on again. On guard!"

We swung up our weapons, but before the rush could reach us, there was a crash close at hand; the door through which Anne and her guards had entered the chapel was thrown open, and a big man dashed in,--Loris himself, still in his disguise. So he had reached us at last!

He must have grasped the situation at a glance, for he shouted: "Back; back for your lives! By the other door. We are betrayed; the soldiers are here. They are coming this way. Save yourselves!"