one house where the bloodshed had been so great as to argue some
considerable loss of life, a notice was left behind in the following terms:
 
        »Thus it is that I punish resistance; mercy to a cheerful submission;
        but henceforth death to the obstinate! -
                                                                    THE MASQUE.«
 
What was to be done? Some counselled a public deprecation of his wrath,
addressed to The Masque. But this, had it even offered any chance of succeeding,
seemed too abject an act of abasement to become a large city. Under any
circumstances, it was too humiliating a confession that, in a struggle with one
man (for no more had avowedly appeared upon the scene), they were left defeated
and at his mercy. A second party counselled a treaty. Would it not be possible
to learn the ultimate objects of The Masque; and, if such as seemed capable of
being entertained with honour, to concede to him his demands, in exchange for
security to the city, and immunity from future molestation? It was true that no
man knew where to seek him: personally he was hidden from their reach; but
everybody knew how to find him: he was amongst them; in their very centre; and
whatever they might address to him in a public notice would be sure of speedily
reaching his eye.
    After some deliberation, a summons was addressed to The Masque, and exposed
on the college gates, demanding of him a declaration of his purposes, and the
price which he expected for suspending them. The next day an answer appeared in
the same situation, avowing the intention of The Masque to come forward with
ample explanation of his motives at a proper crisis, till which more blood must
flow in Klosterheim.
 

                                   Chapter XI

Meantime the Landgrave was himself perplexed and alarmed. Hitherto he had
believed himself possessed of all the intrigues, plots, or conspiracies which
threatened his influence in the city. Among the students and among the citizens
he had many spies, who communicated to him whatsoever they could learn, which
was sometimes more than the truth, and sometimes a good deal less. But now he
was met by a terrific antagonist, who moved in darkness, careless of his power,
inaccessible to his threats, and apparently as reckless as himself of the
quality of his means.
    Adorni, with all his Venetian subtlety, was now as much at fault as
everybody else. In vain had they deliberated together, day after day, upon his
probable purposes; in vain had they schemed to intercept his person, or offered
high rewards for tracing his retreats. Snares had been laid for him in vain;