him, the Syme who escaped would be a Syme freed from all obligation
of secrecy, a Syme who would simply walk to the nearest police
station. After all, it was only one night's discussion, and only
one detective who would know of it. He would let out as little as
possible of their plans that night, and then let Syme go, and
chance it.

He strode across to the group of anarchists, which was already
distributing itself along the benches.

"I think it is time we began," he said; "the steam-tug is waiting
on the river already. I move that Comrade Buttons takes the chair."

This being approved by a show of hands, the little man with the
papers slipped into the presidential seat.

"Comrades," he began, as sharp as a pistol-shot, "our meeting
tonight is important, though it need not be long. This branch
has always had the honour of electing Thursdays for the Central
European Council. We have elected many and splendid Thursdays. We
all lament the sad decease of the heroic worker who occupied the
post until last week. As you know, his services to the cause were
considerable. He organised the great dynamite coup of Brighton
which, under happier circumstances, ought to have killed everybody
on the pier. As you also know, his death was as self-denying as
his life, for he died through his faith in a hygienic mixture of
chalk and water as a substitute for milk, which beverage he
regarded as barbaric, and as involving cruelty to the cow.
Cruelty, or anything approaching to cruelty, revolted him always.
But it is not to acclaim his virtues that we are met, but for a