The Demon, as he spoke, opened the cover, and, looking within, the boy saw, as in a mirror, a moving picture before him.  A regiment of soldiers was marching through the streets of Berlin, and at its head rode a body of horsemen, in the midst of which was the Emperor himself.  The people who thronged the sidewalks cheered and waved their hats and handkerchiefs with enthusiasm, while a band of musicians played a German air, which Rob could distinctly hear.
While he gazed, spell-bound, the scene changed, and he looked upon a great warship entering a harbor with flying pennants.  The rails were lined with officers and men straining their eyes for the first sight of their beloved "VATERLAND" after a long foreign cruise, and a ringing cheer, as from a thousand throats, came faintly to Rob's ear.
Again the scene changed, and within a dingy, underground room, hemmed in by walls of stone, and dimly lighted by a flickering lamp, a body of wild-eyed, desperate men were plighting an oath to murder the Emperor and overthrow his government.
"Anarchists?" asked Rob, trembling with excitement.
"Anarchists!" answered the Demon, with a faint sneer, and he shut the cover of the Record with a sudden snap.
"It's wonderful!" cried the boy, with a sigh that was followed by a slight shiver.