They had been collected from all parts of the world to do the bidding of this despised nobleman, no matter to what lengths he might choose to lead them.

Brutus, of course, knew all this: his companions on the Committee were in complete ignorance of the true motives that brought Marlanx into their operations.
With a cunning that commands admiration, the Iron Count deliberately sanctioned the assassination of the little Prince by the Reds, knowing that the condemnation of the world would fall upon them instead of upon him, and that his own actions following the regicide would at once stamp him as irrevocably opposed to anarchy and all of its practices! In the course of his remarks, Peter Brutus touched hastily upon the subject of the little Prince.
"He's not very big," said he, with a laugh, "and it won't require a very big bomb to blow him to smithereens.

He will--" "Stop!" cried Olga Platanova, springing to her feet and glaring at him with dilated eyes.

"I cannot listen to you! You shall not speak of it in that way! Peter Brutus, you are not to speak of--of what I am to do! Never--never again!" They looked at her in amazement and no little concern.

Madame Drovnask was the first to speak, her glittering eyes fastened upon the drawn, white face of the girl across the table.
"Are you going to fail?
Are you weakening ?" she demanded.
"No! I am not going to fail! But I will not permit any one to jest about the thing I am to do.