"What other news have you?" I asked. "The strangest you ever heard," replied Max. "What is it?" "Cæsar," said Max, "has fallen upon a scheme of the most frenzied and extraordinary kind." "Are the members of the Executive Committee all going crazy together?" I asked. "Surely," replied Max, "the terrible events we are passing through would be our excuse if we did. But you shall hear. After I had avenged my father I proceeded to find Cæsar. I heard from members of the Brotherhood, whom I met on the streets, that he was at Prince Cabano's palace. I hurried there, as it was necessary I should confer with him on some matters. A crowd had reassembled around the building, which had become in some sort a headquarters; and, in fact, Cæsar has confiscated it to his own uses, and intends to keep it as his home hereafter. I found him in the council-chamber. You never saw such a sight. He was so black with dust and blood that he looked like a negro. He was hatless, and his mat of hair rose like a wild beast's mane. He had been drinking; his eyes were wild and rolling; the great sword he held in his right hand was caked with blood to the hilt. He was in a fearful state of excitement, and roared when he spoke. A king-devil, come fresh out of hell, could scarcely have looked more terrible. Behind him in one corner, crouching and crying together, were a bevy of young and handsome women. The Sultan had been collecting his harem. When he caught sight of me he rushed forward and seized my hand, and shouted out: "Here one of his principal officers came up, and the following dialogue occurred: "'I came, General, to ask you what we are to do with the dead.' "'Kill 'em,' roared Cæsar, 'kill 'em, d--n 'em.' "'But, General, they are dead already,' replied the officer who was a steady fellow and perfectly sober. "Well, what's the matter with 'em, then?' replied Cæsar. 'Come, come, Bill, if they're dead, that's the end of them. Take a drink,' and he turned, unsteadily, toward the council-table, on which stood several bottles and demijohns. "'But some of us have talked it over,' said the officer. 'A number of the streets are impassable already with the dead. There must be a quarter of a million of soldiers and citizens lying about, and the number is being added to every minute. The weather is warm, and they will soon breed a pestilence that will revenge them on their slayers. Those killed by the poison are beginning to smell already. We couldn't take any action without your authority, and so I came to ask you for your orders.' "'Burn 'em up,' said Cæsar. "'We can't,' said the man; 'we would have to burn up the city to destroy them in that way; there are too many of them; and it would be an immense task to bury them.' "'Heap 'em all up in one big pile,' said Cæsar. "'That wouldn't do--the smell they would make in decaying would be unbearable, to say nothing of the sickness they would create.' "'I have it!' he shouted. 'By G-d, I have it! Make a pyramid of them, and pour cement over them, and let it stand forever as a monument of this day's glorious work! Hoorrah!" "'That's a pretty good idea,' said the officer, and the others present, courtier-like--for King Cæsar already has his courtiers--applauded the idea vociferously. "'We'll have a monument that shall last while the earth stands,' cried Cæsar. 'And, hold on, Bill,' he continued, 'you shall build it;--and--I say--we won't make a pyramid of it--it shall be a column--Cæsar's Column--by G-d. It shall reach to the skies! And if there aren't enough dead to build it of, why, we'll kill some more; we've got plenty to kill. Old Thingumbob, who used to live here--in my palace--said he would kill ten million of us to-day. But he didn't. Not much! Max's friend--that d---d long-legged fellow, from Africa--he dished him, for he told old Quincy all about it. And now I've got old Thingumbob's best girl in the corner yonder. Oh, it's jolly. But build the column, Bill--build it high and strong. I remember--hic--how they used to build houses on the Saskatchewan, when I was grubbing for potatoes there. They had a board frame the length of a wall, and three or four feet high. They would throw in stones, bowlders, pebbles, dirt, anything, and, when it was full, they would pour cement over it all; and when it hardened--hic--which it did in a few minutes, they lifted up the frame and made another course. I say, Bill, that's the way you must build Cæsar's column. And get Charley Carpenter to help you; he's an engineer. And, hold on, Bill, put a lot of dynamite--Jim has just told me they had found tons of it--put a lot of dynamite--hic--in the middle of it, and "Bill hurried out. They have sixty thousand prisoners--men who had not been among the condemned--but merchants, professional men, etc. They were debating, when I came up, whether they would kill them, but I suggested that they be set to work on the construction of Cæsar's Column, and if they worked well, that their lives be spared. This was agreed to. They are now building the monument on Union Square. Thousands of wagons are at work bringing in the dead. Other wagons are hauling cement, sand, etc. Bill and his friend Carpenter are at work. They have constructed great wooden boxes, about forty feet from front to rear, about four feet high and fifty feet long. The dead are to be laid in rows--the feet of the one row of men near the center of the monument, and the feet of the next row touching the heads of the first, and so on. In the middle of the column there is to be a cavity, about five feet square, running from the top to the bottom of the monument, in which the dynamite is to be placed; while wires will lead out from it among the bodies, so arranged, with fulminating charges, that any attempt to destroy the monument or remove the bodies will inevitably result in a dreadful explosion. But we will go up after dinner and look at the work," he said, "for they are to labor night and day until it is finished. The members of the Brotherhood have entered with great spirit into the idea of such a monument, as a symbol and memorial of their own glory and triumph." "Perhaps so," said Maximilian; "but the idea may have been original with him; for there is no telling what such a monstrous brain as his, fired by whisky and battle, might or might not produce." At dinner poor Mr. Phillips was looking somewhat better. He had a great many questions to ask his son about the insurrection. "Arthur," he said, "if the bad man and his accomplices, who so cruelly used me, should be made prisoners, I beg you, as a favor to me, not to punish them. Leave them to God and their own consciences." "I shall," said Max, quietly. Mrs. Phillips heartily approved of this sentiment. I looked down at my plate, but before my eyes there came a dreadful picture of that fortress of flame, with the chained man in the midst, and high above it I could see, swung through the air by powerful arms, manacled figures, who descended, shrieking, into the vortex of fire. After many injunctions to his guards, to look well after the house, Max and I, well armed and wearing our red crosses, and accompanied by two of our most trusted men, sallied forth through the back gate. What a scene! Chaos; had come. There were no cars or carriages. Thieves and murderers were around us; scenes of rapine and death on every hand. We moved together in a body; our magazine rifles ready for instant use.CÆSAR ERECTS HIS MONUMENT