A regiment of
soldiers was marching through the streets of Berlin, and at its head
rode a body of horsemen, in the midst of which was the Emperor
himself. The people who thronged the sidewalks cheered and waved
their hats and handkerchiefs with enthusiasm, while a band of
musicians played a German air, which Rob could distinctly hear.
While he gazed, spell-bound, the scene changed, and he looked upon a
great warship entering a harbor with flying pennants. The rails were
lined with officers and men straining their eyes for the first sight
of their beloved "VATERLAND" after a long foreign cruise, and a
ringing cheer, as from a thousand throats, came faintly to Rob's ear.
Again the scene changed, and within a dingy, underground room, hemmed
in by walls of stone, and dimly lighted by a flickering lamp, a body
of wild-eyed, desperate men were plighting an oath to murder the
Emperor and overthrow his government.
"Anarchists?" asked Rob, trembling with excitement.
"Anarchists!" answered the Demon, with a faint sneer, and he shut the
cover of the Record with a sudden snap.
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