little French Anarchist, but despite the usual lengthy and unsatisfactory
routine of police inquiries, searches, and arrests, practically nothing
could be ascertained concerning him or the circumstances attending his
death. All that was certain was that the deceased man had in his
possession an explosive machine, evidently destined for some deadly work,
and that, while traversing the park, it had exploded, thus putting an end
both to its owner and his projects.

Various conflicting theories were mooted as to the motive which prompted
the conduct of the deceased Anarchist, but no confirmation could be
obtained to any of these. Some held that Myers was traversing London on
his way to some inconspicuous country railway station, whence to take
train for the Continent where a wider and more propitious field for
Anarchist outrage lay before him. Others opined that he had contemplated
committing an outrage in the immediate vicinity of the spot which
witnessed his own death; and others, again, that, having manufactured his
infernal machine for some nefarious purpose either at home or abroad, he
was suddenly seized either with fear or remorse, and had journeyed to this
unobserved spot in order to bury it. The papers hinted at accomplices and
talked about the usual "widespread conspiracy"; the police opened wide
their eyes, but saw very little. The whole matter, in short, remained, and
must always remain, a mystery to the public.

Behind the scenes, however, the Anarchists talked of a very different
order of "conspiracy." The funeral rites of the poor little Augustin were
performed with as much ceremony and sympathy as an indignant London mob
would allow, and he was followed to his grave by a goodly _cortege_
of "comrades," red and black flags and revolutionary song. Among the chief
mourners was the deceased man's brother Jacob, who wept copiously into the
open grave and sung his "Carmagnole" with inimitable zeal. It was this