The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 3 — page 160: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

544 A CONSPIRACY OF THE CATACOMBS, torch guided him on his way till he came toa standstill, ebout the time he thought he must be almost at the entrance, before a mound of earth. [here was no getting around it. It filled the passageway completely from side to side, from roof to roof. For a moment he thought he had somehow lost him- self again. Then the truth dawned on him. ‘This was his entrance! It had been discovered and filled in by the authorities ! The despair that followed was all the worse for the delusive hope that had visited him. The temptation was strong to cut a vein with his penknife and end it all by bleeding to death. This he managed to resist and even made some feeble efforts to dig his way out to the surface. But there were twenty or thirty feet of well packed earth between him and the upper world. He had no implement but his hands and a penknife, and his strength was almost spent. ‘The time. passed, he knew not how. Sometirnes he was merci- fully unconscious. Sometimes the tortures of hunger and thirst became poignant enough to arouse him for a short time from his lethargy. It was on the third day—it might have been the thirteenth so far as he knew at the time—that he suddenly becanie conscious of human voices, He thought it merely another hallucination—he had had many—and kept quiet. A voice said in Italian, _ “* Here at last we are safe from spies and eavesdroppers |’? ‘Thanks be to the saints, yes !’’ said another. ‘‘ We may now arrange the details of the tyrant’s death.”’ By this time Safford had raised himself on his elbow with new found strength and alertness. ‘These were no airy phantasms. ‘They were live men’s voices. But the character of the few words he had heard made him hesitate to call out. What followed made him glad he had held his peace. They were planning nothing less than the assassination of the king. It was evident that lots had been drawn at some previous time, and that the designated assassin was now receiving his final instructions from a sort of executive committee, and especially from a man with a well modulated voice whom they called ‘’ excellency.’’ The date of the crime was set for nine days thence, when it was known that King Humbert would attend high mass at St. Peter’s. The assassin was to meet him as he came out of the church and present a petition, and take advantage of the king’s eyes being on the paper to deal a sudden knife thrust at his heart. ‘The assassin chosen was evidently a Sicilian, and his knife thrust was regarded as sure. It would be death for him also, but his remarks showed that he was prepared for what he called the crown of martyrdom. For an hour Safford lay and listened. Then he heard the conspirators rise to go. In an’agony of horror at being left alone to die he uttered an inarticulate cry. ‘Listen ; what was that ?’’ “ It was some spirit of the dead !’’ cried one. ‘Or the devil himself,’’ suggested another. ‘“ No such luck,’’ came the deep voice of the man who was called ‘‘ excel- lency.’’ “‘ It’s a man, and we must find and silence him 1f we don’t want to be betrayed.”’ Gomichbooks os