I shall never do them now.
But I may be able to help you in thinking out your plan.
What is it?"
"You begin by telling me that it is useless for me to suggest anything, and then ask what I want to suggest.
My plan requires your help in action, not only in thinking out."
"Let me hear it and then we will discuss."
"Tell me first whether you have heard anything about schemes for a rising in Venetia."
"I have heard of nothing but schemes for risings and Sanfedist plots ever since the amnesty, and I fear I am as sceptical about the one as about the other."
"So am I, in most cases; but I am speaking of really serious preparations for a rising of the whole province against the Austrians.
A good many young fellows in the Papal States--particularly in the Four Legations--are secretly preparing to get across there and join as volunteers.
And I hear from my friends in the Romagna----"
"Tell me," she interrupted, "are you quite sure that these friends of yours can be trusted?"
"Quite sure.
I know them personally, and have worked with them."
"That is, they are members of the 'sect' to which you belong?
Forgive my scepticism, but I am always a little doubtful as to the accuracy of information received from secret societies.
It seems to me that the habit----"
"Who told you I belonged to a 'sect'?" he interrupted sharply.
"No one; I guessed it."
"Ah!" He leaned back in his chair and looked at her, frowning. "Do you always guess people's private affairs?" he said after a moment.
"Very often.
I am rather observant, and have a habit of putting things together.
I tell you that so that you may be careful when you don't want me to know a thing."
"I don't mind your knowing anything so long as it goes no further.
I suppose this has not----"
She lifted her head with a gesture of half-offended surprise.
"Surely that is an unnecessary question!" she said.
"Of course I know you would not speak of anything to outsiders; but I thought that perhaps, to the members of your party----"
"The party's business is with facts, not with my personal conjectures and fancies.
Of course I have never mentioned the subject to anyone."
"Thank you.
Do you happen to have guessed which sect I belong to?"
"I hope--you must not take offence at my frankness; it was you who started this talk, you know---- I do hope it is not the
'Knifers.'"
"Why do you hope that?"
"Because you are fit for better things."
"We are all fit for better things than we ever do.
There is your own answer back again.
However, it is not the 'Knifers' that I belong to, but the
'Red Girdles.'
They are a steadier lot, and take their work more seriously."
"Do you mean the work of knifing?"
"That, among other things.
Knives are very useful in their way; but only when you have a good, organized propaganda behind them.
That is what I dislike in the other sect.
They think a knife can settle all the world's difficulties; and that's a mistake. It can settle a good many, but not all."
"Do you honestly believe that it settles any?"
He looked at her in surprise.
"Of course," she went on, "it eliminates, for the moment, the practical difficulty caused by the presence of a clever spy or objectionable official; but whether it does not create worse difficulties in place of the one removed is another question.
It seems to me like the parable of the swept and garnished house and the seven devils.