Explore "The Councillors of Falconhoe" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was some hours previously that the would-be assassins found themselves in the room devoted to the bogus epicure club in the Adelon Hotel. They were more or less safe there, because they were regarded by the proprietor as eccentric individuals who gathered there from time to time to dine and test new dishes and recipes gathered from all parts of the world. They had only to proclaim that they wanted so many covers laid any night, and the thing was done. They had come back to Berlin, not by road, but by rail, catching an early express at a junction not very far from Baron von Eckhardt's house, so that they were back again in the metropolis early in the afternoon.
It was no time to think of pleasure, or to dally with personal matters, in face of the situation which had been unexpectedly thrust upon them.