The George Barr McCutcheon MEGAPACK ®. George Barr McCutcheon

ten o’clock the slender moon dropped behind the mountain, and the valley, which had been touched with its tender light, gradually took on the somberness and stillness of a star-lit night. The town slumbered at eleven, and there were few lights to be seen in the streets or in the houses. Here and there strolled the white-uniformed police guards; occasionally soldiers hurried barracksward; now and then belated citizens moved through the dense shadows on the sidewalks, but the Americans saw still life in its reality. Returning from their stroll beside the castle-walls, far to the west of where they had entered the grounds that afternoon, they paused in the middle of Castle Avenue, near the main gate, and looked down the dark, deserted street, Far away could be seen the faint glare from their hotel; one or two street-lamps burned in the business part of the city; aside from these evidences of life there was nothing but darkness, silence, peacefulness about them everywhere.

      “Think of Paris or New York at eleven o’clock,” said Lorry, a trifle awed by the solitude of the sleeping city.

      “It’s as dead as a piece of prairie-land,” said his friend. “’Gad, it makes me sleepy to look down that street. It’s a mile to the hotel, too, Lorry. We’d better move along.”

      “Let’s lie down near the hedge, smoke another cigar and wait till midnight. It is too glorious a night to be lost in sleep,” urged Lorry, whose heart was light over the joys of the day to come. “I can dream just as well here, looking at that dark old castle with its one little tower-light, as I could if I tried to sleep in a hard bed down at the hotel.”

      Anguish, who was more or less of a dreamer himself, consented, and, after lighting fresh cigars, they threw themselves on the soft, dry grass near the tall hedge that fenced the avenue as it neared the castle grounds. For half an hour they talked by fits and starts; long silences were common, broken only by brief phrases which seemed so to disturb the one to whom they were addressed that he answered gruffly and not at all politely. Their cigars, burnt to mere stubs, were thrown away, and still the waking dreamers stretched themselves in the almost impenetrable shade of the hedge, one thinking of the face he had seen, the other picturing in his artist eye the painting he had vowed to create from the moon-lit castle of an hour ago.

      “Some one coming,” murmured the painter, half rising to his elbow attentively.

      “Soldiers,” said the other briefly. “They’ll not disturb us.”

      “They’ll not even see us, I should say. It’s as dark as Egypt under this hedge. They’ll pass if we keep quiet.”

      The figures of two men could be seen approaching from the city, dim and ghostly in the semi-blackness of the night. Like two thieves the Americans waited for them to pass. To their exceeding discomfiture, however, the pedestrians halted directly in front of their resting place and seated themselves leisurely upon a broad, flat stone at the roadside. It was too dark to see if they were soldiers, notwithstanding the fact that they were less than fifteen feet away.

      “He should be here at twelve,” said one of the new comers in a low voice and in fairly good English. The other merely grunted. There was a silence of some duration, broken by the first speaker.

      “If this job fails and you are caught it will mean years of servitude.”

      “But in that case we are to have ten thousand gavvos apiece for each year we lie in prison. It’s fair pay—not only for our failure, but for our silence,” said the other, whose English was more difficult to understand.

      Anguish’s fingers gripped Lorry’s leg, but there was no sound from either of the thoroughly aroused dreamers. “A plot, as I live,” thought each, with a thrill.

      “We must be careful to speak only in English. There are not twenty people in Edelweiss who understand it, but the night has ears. It is the only safe tongue. Geddos speaks it well. He should be here.” It was the first speaker who uttered these words, little knowing that he had listeners other than the man to whom he spoke.

      A dark figure shot across the roadway, and, almost before the Americans were aware of it, the party numbered three.

      “Ah, Geddos, you are punctual.”

      “I have found it ever a virtue.” responded the newcomer.

      “Have you secured your men?”

      “I have, your—”

      “Sh! Call me Michael, on your life! They are ready and willing to undertake the venture?”

      “Yes, but they do not understand the true conditions. I have told them that we are to rob the castle and carry the booty to Ganlook before morning.”

      “They do not know the real object of the raid, then. That is as I desired. Are they trusty and experienced men?”

      “The best—or the worst—that I could find in Vienna. Not one understands our language, and they are so ignorant of our town that they are entirely dependent on me. They know nothing whatever of the Princess, Michael, and will do only as they are told, realizing that if caught they will be guillotined. I have told them it is the royal palace we are to rifle. Ostrom, here, and I are the only ones, except yourself and the men who will aid us inside the castle, who know the truth, sir.”

      “It cannot fail, unless those inside prove false or unworthy,” said the hoarse-voiced Ostrom. Anguish’s fingers were gripping Lorry’s leg so fiercely that the blood was ready to burst out, but he did not feel the pain. Here, then, was some gigantic plot in which the person of the Princess herself was to be considered. Was it an assassination?

      “You have five of these Viennese?”

      “Yes. Two to stand beneath the window to receive the booty as we lower it to the ground, one to stand guard at the west gate and two to attend the carriage and horses in the ravine beyond the castle.”

      “When did these men arrive?”

      “This morning. I kept them in my sister’s home until an hour ago. They are now in the ravine, awaiting Ostrom and myself. Are you sure, Michael, that the guards and the cook have been made to understand every detail? The faintest slip will mean ruin.”

      “They are to be trusted fully. Their pay is to be high enough to make it an object to be infallible. The guard, Dushan, will leave the gate unwatched, and you will chloroform him—with his consent, of course. You will enter, as I have explained before, crawl along in the dark shadow of the wall until you reach the arbor that leads to the kitchen and scullery. Here another guard, Rabbo—known to Ostrom as a comrade in Her Royal Highness’s service not more than a year ago—will be encountered. He will be bound and gagged without the least noise or struggle. Just as the clock strikes two the cook will walk past the scullery window, in the basement, thrice, carrying a lighted candle. You will see this light through the window, and will know that all is well inside the castle. Ostrom, you will then lead the two Viennese to a place directly beneath the third window in the Princess’s sleeping apartment. There are several clumps of shrubbery there, and under these they will hide, protected from the gaze of any watchman who is not with us. You and Geddos will be admitted to the scullery by the cook, who will conduct you to the hall leading to Her Highness’s bed-room. The man who guards her door is called Dannox. He will not be at his post, but will accompany you when you leave the castle. You will understand how carefully you must enter her room and how deeply she must be chloroformed. In the adjoining room her lady-in-waiting, the Countess Dagmar, sleeps. If her door is ajar, you are to creep in and chloroform her, leaving her undisturbed. Then the Princess is to be wrapped in the cloth you take with you and lowered from the window to the men below. They are to remain in hiding until you have left the castle and have reached their side. It will not be difficult, if caution is observed, for you to get outside of the wall and to the carriage in the ravine. I have given you this plan of action before, I know, but I desire to impress it firmly upon your minds. There must not be the slightest deviation. The precision of clock-work is necessary.”

      The man named Michael hissed the foregoing into the ears of his companions, the palsied Americans hearing every word distinctly. They scarcely breathed, so tremendous was the restraint imposed upon their nerves. A crime so huge,