year, just as he was about to harvest his crops, a discharge of lightning killed his horses; they were the only ones he had.  He was without the means to purchase another team, and without horses he could not gather his harvest.  He was therefore forced to mortgage his land for enough to buy another pair of horses.  The money-lender demanded large interest on the loan and an exorbitant bonus besides; and as the ‘bankers,’ as they called themselves, had an organization, he could not get the money at a lower rate anywhere in that vicinity.  It was the old story.  The crops failed sometimes, and when they did not fail the combinations and trusts of one sort or another swept away Caesar’s profits; then he had to renew the loan, again and again, at higher rates of interest, and with still greater bonuses; then the farm came to be regarded as not sufficient security for the debt; and the horses, cattle, machinery, everything he had was covered with mortgages.  Caesar worked like a slave, and his family toiled along with him.  At last the crash came; he was driven out of his home; the farm and all had been lost for the price of a pair of horses.  Right on the heels of this calamity, Caesar learned that his eldest daughter—­a beautiful, dark-eyed girl—­had been seduced by a lawyer—­the agent of the money-lender—­and would in a few months become a mother.  Then all the devil that lay hid in the depths of the man’s nature broke forth.  That night the lawyer was attacked in his bed and literally hewed to pieces:  the same fate overtook the money-lender.  Before morning Caesar and his family had fled to the inhospitable mountain regions north of the settlement.  There he gathered around him a band of men as desperate as himself, and waged bloody and incessant war on society.  He seemed, however, to have a method in his crimes, for, while he spared the poor, no man who preyed upon his fellow-men was safe for an hour.  At length the government massed a number of troops in the vicinity; the place got too hot for him; Caesar and his men fled to the Pacific coast; and nothing more was heard of him for three or four years.  Then the terrible negro insurrection broke out in the lower Mississippi Valley, which you all remember, and a white man, of gigantic stature, appeared as their leader, a man of great daring and enterprise.  When that rebellion had been suppressed, after many battles, the white man disappeared; and it is now claimed that he is in this city at the head of this terrible Brotherhood of Destruction; and that he is the same Caesar Lomellini who was once a peaceful farmer in the State of Jefferson.”

The spy paused.  The Prince said: 

“Well, who are the others?”

“It is reported that the second in command, but really ’the brains of the organization,’ as he is called by the men, is a Russian Jew.  His name I could not learn; very few have seen him or know anything about him.  He is said to be a cripple, and to have a crooked neck.  It is reported he was driven out of his synagogue in Russia, years ago, for some crimes he had committed.  He is believed to be the man who organized the Brotherhood in Europe, and he has come here to make the two great branches act together.  If what is told of him be true, he must be a man of great ability, power and cunning.”