“What is this man, Carl Pérousse?” he went on--“A man of the people--whose oaths were sworn to the people,--whom the people themselves brought into power because he promised to remain faithful to them! He is false,--a traitor and political coward! A mere manufacturer of kitchen goods, who through our folly was returned to this country’s senate;--and through our still further credulity is now set in almost complete dominion over us. Well! We have suffered and are suffering for our misplaced belief in him;--the question is, how long shall we continue to suffer? How long are we to be governed by the schemes of Carl Pérousse, the country’s turncoat,--the trafficker in secret with Jew speculators? It is for you to decide! It is for you to work out your own salvation! It is for you to throw off tyranny, and show yourselves free men of reason and capacity! Just as the priests chant long prayers to cover their own iniquity, so do the men of government make long speeches to disguise their own corruption. You know you cannot believe their promises. Neither can you believe the press, for if this is not actually bought by Pérousse, it is bribed. And you cannot trust the King; for he is as a house divided against itself which must fall! Slave of his own passions, and duped by women, what is he but a burden to the State? Justice and power should be on the side of kings,--but the days are come when self-interest and money can even buy a throne! O men, O women, rouse up your hearts and minds to work for yourselves, to redress wrongs,--to save your country! Rouse up in your thousands, and with your toil-worn hands pull down the pillars of iniquity and vice that overshadow and darken the land! Fight against the insolent pride of wealth which strives to crush the poor; rouse, rouse your hearts!--open your eyes and see the evils which are gathering thick upon us!--and like the lightnings pent up in yonder clouds, leap forth in flame and thunder, and clear the air!” A burst of frantic acclamation from the crowd followed this wild harangue, and while the loud roar of voices yet echoed aloft, a band of armed police came into view, marching steadily up from the lower streets of the city. Sergius Thord smiled as he saw them approach. “Yonder comes the Law!” he said--“A few poor constables, badly paid, who if they could find anything better to do than to interfere with their fellow-men would be glad of other occupation! Before they come any nearer, disperse yourselves, my friends, and so save them trouble! Go all to your homes and think on my words;--or enter the Cathedral and pray, those who will--but let this place be as empty of you in five minutes as though you never had been here! Disperse,--and farewell! We shall meet again!”