Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 308, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 December 1913 — The League of Lost Causes [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The League of Lost Causes

By H.M. EGBERT

Being the Romantic Adventures of Paul Lane, American Millionaire

The Seance at Nishikoff

(Copyright, 1913, by W. G. Chapman.)

" IHE league was doomed; that T was the substance of nearly every conversation in the diplomatic clubs of Europe. Crehbmm ated by Dvornak, that brlllijS yy ant and erratic genius whose diatribes against democracy had stirred all the courts of the continent, it had become organised in a single year in every country between Spain and the Urals. Kings had become members of it, and the league, backed by the most powerful ot influences, had acquired immunity from governments and threatened to impose its'will upon the civilized world- Then the inevitable happened. Factions arose, base men perverted Its aims to their own ends; the best . element abandoned it in disgust, a counter-organization of Western rulers was initiated, and, after the issue had hung for months in the balance, the scales fell, and the league became ’ And up and down Europe, traveling from court to court, a cohort of paladins, each fighting singly and wholeheartedly, strove for the two factions. That the league was planning a desperate stroke in order to regain its former influence was the substance of a conversation . between Lord Claude Tresham, secretary to the cabinet of kings which had fought the league successfully, and Paul Lane, the young American millionaire, as they sat together in the palm room of the Hotel des Anglais, at Geneva, and looked out at the snowycrested mountains. Paul’s wits, had been sharpened in many fights w’hen he was serving the league. >He had been induced to ' place his fortune and his services at its disposal by the Princess Clothilde of Austria, the guiding spirit of the society. When he came to understand that he was but a tool in the hands of an unscrupulous woman, whom, nevertheless, he had grown to love with a passion which, he would last during the remainder of his life; when, too, he understood, in shame and humiliation, that the high motives of the league were shams masking criminal designs, he offered his services to Lord Tresham, to fight his former friends. He had performed several missions with honor, he had met Clothilde herself in battles of wits and worsted her; but each encounter only drove home more deeply the shaft of the pitiless archer who wounded him to the heart. For this reason he fought the more daringly. He had become, next to Tresham, the opposing organization’s most powerful agent., Tresham had summoned Paul to Switzerland to undertake a mission which was to overthrow the league’s last remnants of-power and influence in Europe. He explained it to him in the afterglow of the glorious August evening.

"The league has one prop, Paul,” he said, "and you are to kick it away. The kaiser has long~ abandoned it; so has Alfonso of Spain, its leading western ally. But in the realm of the Tsar the league still- rests supreme. The Russian agent of that unscrupulous association is rus, the monk who has obtained so strong a hold over the people and over the superstition-ridden Nicholas n. As you undoubtedly know, this Apollodorus, whose headquarters are in the monastery at Nlshlkoff, is the latest of a long train of charlatans who have duped Nicholas with spiritualistic phenomena. At Nlshlkoff, they say, he calls up the ghost of his majesty the late Alexander 111., and this spectral adviser, whose counsels are, of course, always those of the league, and who is, In reality, the 'medium* Apollodorus himself, directs the policy of the whole realm of Russia. • Paul, did you ever .turn the dark lantern on a ‘spirit* at a seance?’’ < "Kdld,” said Paul, chuckling over the remembrance. "It was in my college days. I exposed the notorious Brale, who had fooled many leading Pippie in New York, and photographed him with a calcium. light, capering round the room in fifteen yards of crash towelling.** "That, Paul, is exactly what you are to do to Apollodorus,’’ answered Lord Claude. "You can imagine the scene: the Tsar, wildly credulous, his attendants secretly sceptical, but outwardly believers, and just a little bit inclined to a mystical Interpretation of the phenomena because of the inherent human tendency to self-deception. I can obtain admittance for you through friends at St. Petersburg. You will, then, attend the seance with a dark lantern under your coat, expose the fraud at the psychological moment, and obliterate the league’s influence in Ruskia in a flood of ridicule. Once Nicholas has left it. we shall hear very little more about it’’ Paul left for St Petersburg on the following day, bearing a letter of introduction to Count Gabel, a man of old family who, though at present out of favor, anticipated the day when the wheel of fortune would once more place him in office. Paul had been Instructed that Gabel was a firm believer in the phenomena and that he must obtain admittance to the seance

in the guise of a believer. Upon presenting his card he was at once admitted to Count Gabel’s house and ushered into the presence of a portly, elderly gentleman, somewhat pompous, but with a saving sense of humor which, together with a certain artlessness of nature, attracted Paul. “And so you wish to investigate the phenomena of the monk Apollodorus, young man,” be said, when he had finished reading the letter. “Lor<J Tresham and I are very old friends, dating from the days when he was first, attache at the Russian court I am sure that I can obtain permission from his majesty, and you have come, luckily, at precisely the most favorable time, for his majesty departs for Nishikoff-on Wednesday next with all the gentlemen of his court, to question his late father concerning an important matter of foreign policy, upon whose adoption or rejection, I may say in confidence, grave issues depend. His majesty is only too anxious to make converts, and anyone for whom I vouch can accompany his gentlemen.” His voice grew low and Ke bent forward and began speaking earnestly. “It will convert you, my friend,” said Count Gabel. “It is positively the most wonderful exhibition ever vouchsafe to man. I knew the late Tsar Alexander. And, since his death, I have seen him at the Nishikoff monastery—seen him, touched his hand, just as it was’ in the flesh, and spoken with him face to face and heard his own voice answer me. It is wonderful! Imagine what it meaps to us who have been -privileged thus to learn for surety that death is, in truth, only transition! Imagine w’hat It means tc the Tsar to have the advantage of his father’s counsel upon matters of state!” He suddenly became aware that he was talking with utter abandon to a stranger and, sitting up in his chair, resumed his severe manner. “Mr. Lane, it will be necessary to make use of a very harmless deception,” he said. “You are not marriedT’ “No,” answered Paul. “Good! Good!” exclaimed the jovial old man. “Because of course you must have some sort of excuse for being taken to Nishikoff. You must be some relative of mine, for instance. You don’t speak Russian? Ha! H’m! Then you can’t be a blood relation. Ha! I have it! You shall pass as the fiance of my wife’s cousin, a very charming lady of royal blood who is staying with us and is a friend of the Tsaritsa. She will, I am sure, willingly accept you in that capacity for she loves a jest. She is as convinced as I in the reality of these phenomena—and so will you be too. Now you must send to your hotel for your baggage and come home with me.”

Paul was completely disarmed by the old count’s hospitality. In fact nothing but a strong sense of duty prevented him from throwing away the dark lantern and calcium powder which he had brought in his suit-case. But he conquered this impulse and at the end of the day waited upon the count again, entered the droshky which was waiting outside his office, and was whirled away to Gabel’tf residence in a fashionable part of St. Petersburg, where he was warmly welcomed by the countess. A few words of explanation from the count in Russian vastly amused her. "Clothilde will be here in a few minutes,*’ she said to Paul in English. "But wait! I myself will go and tell her that her fiance is expecting her!*’ And she tripped out of the room, leaving Paul and the count alone. Clothilde! It could not be the same, unless she were übiquitous. Yet Paul was hardly surprised when she came in, for fate seemed resolved to link their fortunes together. The strangeness of that meeting filled him with a realisation of the dramatic nature of the parts they were to play. "Well, how do you like each other?’’ inquired the countess amiably. "Do you think you can permit Mr. Lane to act as your fiance for a day, Clothilde?” She raised eyes for an instant. “I—l think I can,” she murmured, and the blood flushed her cheecks and then receded leaving them whiter than ivory, In that moment Paul felt assured that she was not indifferent to him. They found themselves side by side upon the window seat after dinner, while the old count snored peacefully in his chair and the countess knitted, casting secrets, sly, amiable glances toward her guests.. She had taken an extraordinary fancy to this young American. She did not know very much about Clothilde, who had always moved in a circle loftier than her own; but the good soul’s mind was filled with match-making. If Clothilde could learn to care for him as much as he evidently cared for her! It seemed to be a case of love at Bight! Perhaps—well, stranger things had happened. She saw in her mind the acceptance of Paul as Clothilde’s lover, the marriage deremony, the bridesmaids, In white, with fragrant

blossoms in their hands . . . and all this laded into the midst of dreams. The countess slept beside the fire, opposite her sleeping husband. , And Paul was stammering out bis love and clasping Clothilde’s little hands in his. 0— . t*Forgive me,” he was saying, “for my remarks to you that day in Paris. -I was mad with a sense of shame and ■betrayal. I have always loved you, Clothilde. I shall love you for ever more. Do you love me?” For' they never seem banal to lovers, those hackneyed words. Nor did her reply seem as insipid as the printed record of it. would be; for both were in heaven.

Paul saw tears in Clothilde’s eyes. “I love you, Paul,*’ she said, and humility had replaced the imperious pride in her voice. “When you showed me to myself for what I am' I suddenly realized —O, ever so many things. I knew then that I had found' the one man whom I could love. I always loved you, Paul, from that strange moment of our first meeting in, America. But lately—well, Paul, do you know why I am here?” “To aid Apollodorus,” he answered, with the least tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“No,” she answered. “It is because I am sick of the league. I tried to bury myself here, to escape them.

Sut they have found me and followed me. They know that without my influence the league will lose the last vestiges of its influence. And they have even threatened me, Paul.” "Who?” he cried angrily. - ‘‘Von Holzrath. He is now one of the. leaders of the organization. He has offered me the choice between continuing as their agent and the league’s enmity. I must decide. I fear him so; I hate the league so much, and I long for peace. I think it is my love for'you, Paul, that has sickened me of these intrigues.” “Then come with me,” cried Paul. “Come back to America. No one will dare -molest you there. Come and—” She placed her hand upon his arm. "Some day,” she answered. "But not now. There are things to be done — you understand? I cannot disappear so swiftly. I feel, somehow, that I must remain until the league Is crushed, or till it crushes me. It will be only a little-while, Paul. Promise me that, now we are'sure of each other’s love, you will not seek me out until I call you." “I promise,” he answered sadly. "But, Clothilde, why are you here? Did not the league send you to aid in the fraud upon the Tsar?” She nodded. "But I found that it is no fraud, Paul/’ she said. 1 “What? You don’t mean that |t is true?” She nodded, looking earnestly into his eyes. "It is in very truth the spirit of the late .Tsar,” she answered. "I was most sceptical; but when I went with the copnt I saw and heard and touched him. None could mistake Alexander.

Whif, Paul, do you not knew that Alexander was the strongest man .Jn Europe? He could bend a horseshoe double with one of his bands. And I have seen him—his spirit— do that, to convince Nicholas.” “It was Apollodorus.**

“Never, Paul. He is a weakling and has hands like a woman. Paul, if you are here to expose the monk you will be convinced in spite of yourself.”

“You are deceived by a clever impostor,” Paul answered. “It cannot be, Clothilde.” She did not try further to persuade him, and a moment later the countess awoke and looked around for her knitting.

The party was -to start from the station at ten o’clock oh the’Wednesday morning, in a special train, scheduled to reach Nishikoff late in the afternoon, when they would be received and dined in the refectory of the monastery and lodged overnight The program was carried out as it had been planned. Paul caught a glimpse of the thin„ nervous figure of the Tsar as he hurried into his private coach; then, with his host and Clothilde —for the countess stayed comfortably at home —he entered a compartment already three parts filled with gentlemen of the Tsar’s bodyguard, and the train rolled out of the station, to pull in at Nishikoff about

five in the eveping. ’’There carriages awaited the party and drove in long procession to the monastery. Their sleeping accomodation was In cells, for the Tsar’s visits were regarded both by Aimself and by the head monk as disciplinary Journeys; but the meal, spread on long tables in the refectory, was satisfying and almost epicurean. Evidently these monks were not averse to the good things of life; Indeed, from the glances which they turned upon Clothide it was evident that they were by no means fanatical In their asceticism. The admission of a woman, though contrary to the strict monastic rule, was condoned in the case of one of his majesty’s suite, but it proved sufficiently, disconcerting for many of the inmates. Paul noticed, h.owever, that each scrutiny of his 'companion was preceded by a furtive glance toward a small, thin man in a brown monk’s frobe made, instead of from cloth, out of horsehair, and fastened with a plain hempen girdle, and that this man, who occupied a carved chair at the head of the long table, seemed to possess a wholesome authority over the brethren. “That is Apollodonis,” whispered Clothilde to Paul; and Paul, looking at the stern, ascetic face of the man. was conscious of a fund of power in him which would make his own duty the more difficult He grasped the lit tie dark lantern tightly under his coat. Undoubtly Apollodorus was no common impostor and would fight fqr his control over the wavering -rfflnd of Nicholas. And Paul was not among friends. He knew the self-deluded vanity of those who are tricked

which makes them the more insistent in defense of the Impostor. He turned to Clothilde.

“Clothilde, as you love me, tell me, do you believe that the spirit of the Tsar realty appears to Nicholas f “As I love you,. I am sure of it, Paul,” she answered. "O Paul, I know that you are here to fight against the to show up Apollodcrus, thdSmpostor, as you consider him. Paul, indeed it is no imposture. and in very truth Alexander 111. makes himself manifest to his son.”

For the first time Paul was staggered by this calm faith in the monk; he began to feel himself upon the brink of the unknown. The matter was assuming a more serious aspect than ever before.

He ran over his instructions in his mind. His duty was to convince Nicholas that Apollodorus was an impostor. That would turn the weakminded ruler from his allies and destroy the league for ever. He must, then, catch the man when he was capering round the seance room in the guise of the late Tsar. He could do no more than that; if that failed to suffice, he would fail in his mission.

Clothilde seemed to realize the purpose of his journey.

“Paul!” she whispered, “you will be sadly deceived if you intend to break up the seance meeting. Promise me

you will do nothing until you are convinced that it is fraudulent.” “I promise you that, Clothilde,” Paul answered, and at that moment the dinner came to an abrupt end by the rising of the Tsar. The brethren stood up from their benches and marched out in order, leaving the Tsar and his retinue alone with the head monk and Apollodorus. Then, since the affair was a matter of routine, by reason of frequent repetition, no words were spoken, but the whole party filed out in the monks* wake and entered a large, square, vault-like chamber, ’at one end of which a black curtain had been drawn in front of a sort of dais" a platform containing a dark cabinet and a chair. In front of this were phaire in rows several deep, Into which the Tsar and his courtiers sank, while the head monk bowed his head and intoned a prayer. Then, bowing solemnly, he withdrew, leaving Apollodorus to perform his feats.

The monk addressed the Tsar. What he said Paul could not of course, understand, but be saw bow thoroughly the man dominated the mind of the monarch and impressed himself ,upon the courtiers. From behind the curtain came a low muttering sound, gradually increasing in intensity, with broken words in deeper tones interjected as by’ an alien voice. Then a draught blew back the curtain till it bellied into'the face of the Tsar. Nicholas drew back with a stifled shriek; a moment later the curtain was as suddenly withdrawn, and, as the Tsar subsided, a huge figure of a man glided from the cabinet and stood be-

fore the company, his arms raised at in benediction. "Do you believe? Do yod believe?*’ whispered Count Gabel excitely in Paul’s ear. And Paul, looking, owned that he bad never seen a clearer representation of the late Tsar than this spectral figure with the gaunt cheeks,' gray beard, and mighty arms stretched out over the company. The Tsar had fallen upon bls knees, the courtiers followed suit, and somebody among .the audience was singing * Russian hymn. It died away; the figure still stood motionless before the curtain; then Nicholas arose weakly and, prostrating himself upon the lowest step, held communion with the figure, which’ bent over him. Only .the whispers of their voices were audible in the room. _ ' / The eyes of all were on the pair. All watched, all wondered; perhaps of that assembly half believed and hardly one was wholly sceptical. Paul slipped, unnoticed, out of his chair, and edged his way toward the front row, immediately behind the prostrate sovereign. A candle flickered in one corner and the light fell clearly upon the face of the tall figure. Paul was amazed. This could not be Apo Hod orus—some confederate, perhaps, but never that ascetic little man. A voice whispered in agitation on one side of him. Others took up the words. Hands clutched at him. Paul did not understand that he was sit' ting in Nicholas’s chair. At any moment the monarch might rise and come back and perceive this Intruder, TheJ’ laid hands violently upon him, and Paul, thinking his purpose had been discovered, tore the dark lantern from under his coat and flashed it into the face of the figure. He had planned to begin Instead with the calcium, but this proved equally efficacious.

For everybody was upon his feet shouting as Paid, leaping forward, his lantern light flooding the room, grasped the tall man by the flowing draperies he wore and whirled down the steps with him and into the midst of the guests. Simultaneously the whole company precipitated themselves upon Paul and him whom he held fast. Whoever it was, it was no ghost, that much was certain, but a giant in strength, a giant who sought for him and found him among the stumbling men and crashing chairs and wrapped his great arms around him like a vise and slowly crushed the breath out of his body. Pinned helpless in the grip of his antagonist, Paul felt his senses leaving him. He heard the shouts of the courtiers blend and mingle into a sullen roar as of the sea; lights flashed before hie eyes; he felt himself lifted up and carried away. The last things that he saw were Clothilde’s terror-strick-en face and the horrified eyes at Count Gabel. When he opened his eyes again ho was lying in the'little cell which had been assigned to him on his arrivaL Overhead an electric light burned brightly. Beside his bed a cowled figure was seated—the figure of Apoltodorus. As Paul stirred 'the monk put down the missal which he had been. reading and came toward hfffl. “You are feeling better?” heaakeJ,. smiling composedly. “Then you can tell me who you are. An Englisikman?” “American." "“"Newspaper correspondent?” "If you like,” answered Paul indifferently. “Or perhaps an emissary of th« league,” continued Apollodorus, smiling more broadly. “Like yourself? No,” answered Paul. “My good American, you are s month out of the date,” Apollodorus answered. "I knew that I had the reputation of being a member of that organization, but one must not believe all that one hears. I have better things to occupy my mind—eternal things, not those of this wretched world. That his majesty has been inclined toward the league was due to the counsels of his father; lately Alexander has counselled him otherwise." “By whom you mean yourself,” Mid Paul. "Now let us be frank. What are you going to do with me?” The monk stared at him thoughtfully. “It you will give me your word of honor to keep the secret which I shall reveal, you may go free.” he said, “To be equally frabk, you have us in an unpleasant position. If we had not dragged you away before the light* went up—” "Yes.”

"Hls majesty might tufVe guessed at your purpose. As It is, everybody thinks you were a Journalist. Have I your word? Good. The man you fought with was his late majesty Alexander 111. In middle life he wished to Withdraw from the world to give himself up to meditation. Aar the Tsar cannot abdicate he followed the example of his predecessor, Alexander 1., and withdrew to this monas-' tery after a mock funeral, and hither hiq majesty comes at times to receive counsel. You understand, my that with a sovereign of his majesty'stype of mind we cannot always be» frank.” He whispered into Paul’s “Nicholas is weak in his wits. It is* necessary t<r<tse certain methods to strengthen them. You understand?” “And to strengthen the priesthood/' answered Paul. i “But not the league,” said Apoflbdorus. “Come, there we are Quite. Ysu have achieved your purpose—for I know all about you, Mr. Lane. The league no longer rules in Russia. Amt I have your word of honor. A earriage is waiting to convey you to thw| station. A train arrives at dawn—owa hour from now.”