 CHAPTER XI A HUGE century stood with his back to the secret exit, his dark eyes shining beneath his peaked cap as he held his weapon to his shoulder within six feet of us. The big bearded fellow demanded fiercely who I was. My heart sank within me. I had acted recklessly and had fallen into the hands of his Excellency, the Baron Xavier Oberg, the unscrupulous Governor-General, fallen into a trap which it seemed had been very cleverly prepared for me. I was a prisoner in the terrible fortress whence no single person saved the guards had ever been known to emerge, the Bastille of the Strangler of Finland. I saw I was lost. The muzzle of the sentry's carbine was within two feet of my chest. Speak, cried the fellow, who are you? At a glance I took in the peril of the situation, and without a second's hesitation made a dive for the man beneath his weapon. He lowered it, but it was too late, for I gripped him around the waist, rendering his gun useless. It was the work of an instant, for I knew that to close with him was my only chance. Yet if the boat was not in waiting below that closed door, if my fin-driver was not there in readiness, then I was lost. The unfortunate girl whom I was there to rescue drew back in fright against the wall for a single second. Then, seeing that I had closed with the hulking fellow, she sprang forward and with both hands seized the gun and attempted to rest it from him. His fingers had lost the trigger and he was trying to regain it to fire and so raised the alarm. I saw this and with an old trick learned at Uppingham I tripped him so that he staggered and nearly fell. An oath escaped him, yet in that moment Elma succeeded in twisting the gun from his sinewy hands, which I now held with the strength begotten of my imminent peril. My whole future, as well as hers, depended upon my success in that desperate encounter. He was huge and powerful, with a strength far exceeding my own, yet I had been reckoned a good wrestler at Uppingham, and now my knowledge of that most ancient form of combat held me in good stead. The man shouted for help, his deep hoarse voice sounding along the stone corridors. If heard by his comrade in arms, then the alarm would at once be given. We struggled desperately, swaying to and fro, he trying to throw me while I at every turn practiced upon him the tricks learned in my youth. It seemed an even match, however, for he kept his feet by sheer brute force, and his muscles seemed hard and unbending as steel. Suddenly, however, as we were striving so vigorously and desperately, the English girl slipped past us with a carbine in her hand, and with a quick movement dragged open the heavy door that gave exit to the lake. At that instant I unfortunately made a false move, and his hand closed upon my throat like a band of steel. I fought and struggled to lose myself, exerting every muscle, but at last he gained the advantage. I heard a splash, and saw that Elma no longer held the sentry's weapon in her hands, having thrown it into the water. Then, at the same moment, I heard a voice outside cry in a low tone, courage, excellency, courage, I will come and help you. It was the faithful Finn who had been awaiting me in the deep shadow, and with a few strokes pulled his boat up to the narrow rickety ledge outside the door. Take the lady, I succeeded in gasping in Russian. Never mind me, and I saw to my satisfaction that he guided Elma to step into the boat, which at that moment drifted past the little platform. I struggled valiantly, but against such a man of brute strength I was powerless. He held my throat, causing me excruciating pain, and each moment I felt my chance of victory grow smaller. My strength was failing. While I held his arms at his sides, I could keep him secure without much effort, but now with his fingers pressing in my windpipe I could not breathe. I was slowly being strangled. To be vanquished meant imprisonment there, perhaps even death. Victory meant Elma's life, as well as my own. Mine was therefore a fight for life. A sudden idea flashed across my mind, and I continued to struggle, at the same time gradually forcing my enemy backward towards the door. He shouted for help, but was unheard. He cursed and swore, and shouted until, with a sudden and almost superhuman effort, I tripped him, bringing his head into such violent contact with the stone lintel of the door that the sound could surely be heard at considerable distance. For a moment he was stunned, and in that brief second I released his grip from my throat and hurled him backwards beyond the door. There was a sound of the crashing of wood as the rotten platform gave way, a loud splash, and next instant the dark waters closed over the big bearded fellow who would have snatched Elma Heath from me and have held me prisoner in that castle of terrors. He sank like a stone, for although I stood watching for him to rise, I could only distinguish the woodwork floating away with the current. In a moment, however, even as I stood there in horror at my deed of self-defense, the place suddenly resounded with shouts of alarm, and in the tower above me the great old rusty bell began to swing, its brazen note across the broad expanse of waters. The fair bearded fin again shot the boat across to where I stood, crying, Jump, Excellency, pour your life, jump! The guards will be upon us. Behind me in the passage I saw a light and the glitter of arms, a shot rang out and a bullet whizzed past me, but I stood unharmed. Then I jumped and nearly upset the boat, but taking an ore I began to row for life, and as we drew away from those grim black walls the fire belched forth from three rifles, row I shrieked, turning to see if my fair companion had been hit. Keep cool, Excellency, urge the fin, see right away there in the shadow. We might trick them, for the patrol boat will be at the head of the river waiting to cut us off. Again the guards fired upon us, but in the darkness their aim was faulty. Lights appeared in the high windows of the castle, and we could see that the greatest commotion had been caused by the escape of the prisoner. The men at the door in the tower were shouting to the patrol boats, which were nowhere to be seen, calling them to row us down and capture us, but by plying our oars rapidly we shot straight across the lake until we got under the deep shadow of the opposite shore, and then crept gradually along in the direction we had come. If we meet the boat's Excellency we must run ashore and take to the woods, explained the fin. It is our only chance. Scarcely had he spoken when out in the center of the lake we could just distinguish a long boat with three rowers going swiftly towards the entrance to the river, which we so desired to gain. Look! cried our guide, backing water, and bringing the boat to a standstill. They are in search of us. If we are discovered they will fire. It is their orders. No boat is allowed upon this lake. Elma sat watching our pursuers, but still calm and silent. She seemed to entrust herself entirely to me. The guards were rowing rapidly, the oars sounding in the rollox evidently in the belief that we had made for the river, but the Finlander had apparently foreseen this, and for that reason we were lying safe from observation in the deep shadow of an overhanging tree. A gray mist was slowly rising from the river, and the fin noticing it hoped that it might favor us. In Finland in late autumn the mists are often as thick as our proverbial London fogs, only whiter, denser, and more frosty. If we disembark we shall be compelled to make a detour of fully four days in the forest in order to pass the marshes he pointed out in a low whisper. But if we can enter the river we can go ashore anywhere and get by foot to some place where the lady can lie in hiding. What do you advise? We are entirely in your hands. The chief of police told me he could trust you. I think it will be best to risk it, he said in Russian after a brief pause. We will tie up the boat and I will go along the bank and see what the guards are doing. You will remain here and I shall not be seen. The rushes and undergrowth are higher further along, but if there is danger while I am absent get out and go straight westward until you find the marsh, then keep along its banks due south, and drawing up the boat to the bank the shrewd, big-boned fellow disappeared into the dark undergrowth. There were no signs yet of the break of day. Indeed the stars were now hidden, and the great plain of water was every moment growing more indistinct as we both sat in silence. My ears were strained to catch the dipping of an oar or a voice, but beyond the lapping of the water beneath the boat there was no other sound. I took the hand of the fair-faced girl at my side and pressed it. In return she pressed mine. It was the only means by which we could exchange to competences. She whom I had sought through all those months sat at my side, yet powerless to utter one single word. Still holding her hands in both my own, I gripped them to show her that I intended to be her champion, while she turned to me in confidence, as though happy that it should be so. What, I wondered, was her history? What was the mystery surrounding her? What could be that secret which had caused her enemies to thus brutally maim and mutilate her, and afterwards send her to that grim, terrible fortress that still loomed up before us in the gloom? Surely her secret must affect some person very seriously, or such drastic means would never be employed to secure her silence. Suddenly I heard a stealthy footstep approaching. At next moment a low voice which I recognized as that of our friend the Finn. There is danger, Excellency. A grave danger, he said, in a low half whisper. Three boats are in search of us. And scarcely had he uttered those words when there was a flash of a rifle from the haze, a loud report, and again a bullet whizzed past just behind my head. In an instant the truth became apparent, for I saw the dark shadow of a boat rapidly rode, bearing full upon us. The shot had been fired as a signal that we had been sighted and were pursued. Other shots rang out, mingled with the wild exultant shouts of the guards as they bore down full upon us, and then I knew that, notwithstanding our escape, we were now lost. They were too close upon us to admit of eluding them. The peril we had dreaded had fallen. The Finn's presence on the shore had evidently been detected by a boat drawn up at the shore, and he had been followed to where we had lain in what we had so foolishly believed to be a safe hiding place. Not else was to be done, but to face the inevitable. Three times the red fire of a rifle belched angrily in our faces, and yet by good fortune neither of us was struck. Yet we knew too well that the intention of our pursuers was to kill us. Quick excellently fly while there is yet time, guest of Finn, grasping my hand and half dragging me from the boat while I, in turn, placed Elma on the bank. Heda, this way, swiftly cried our guide, and the three of us, heedless of the consequences, plunged forward into the impenetrable darkness, just as our fierce pursuers came alongside where we had only a moment ago been seated. They shout it wildly as they sprang to land after us, but our guide, who had been born and bred in these forests, knew well how to travel in a semi-circle, and how to conceal himself. It was a race for freedom, nay, for very life. So dark that we could see before us hardly a foot, we were compelled to place our hands in front of us to avoid collision with the big tree trunks, while ever and anon we found ourselves entangled in the mass of dead creepers and vegetable parasites that formed the dense undergrowth. Around us on every side we heard the shouts and curses of our pursuers, while above the rest we heard an authoritative voice, evidently, that of a sergeant of the guard cry, shoot the man, but spare the woman. The colonel wants her back. Don't let her escape. We shall be well rewarded. So keep on, comrades, many a dam-ski. But the trembling girl beside me heard nothing, and perhaps indeed it was best that she could not hear. My only fear was that our pursuers, of whom there now seem to be a dozen, had extended with the intention of encircling us. They, no doubt, knew every inch of that giant forest with its numerous bogs and marshes, and if they could not discover us would, no doubt, drive us into one or other of the bogs where escape was impossible. Our gallant guide, on the other hand, seemed to utterly disregard the danger, and kept on every now and then stretching out his hand and helping along the afflicted girl we had rescued from that living tomb. Headlong we went in a straight line, until suddenly we began to feel our feet sinking into the soft ground, and then the Finlander turned to the left at right angles, and we found ourselves in a denser undergrowth, where in the darkness our hands and faces became badly scratched. Another gun was fired as signal, echoing through the wood, but the sound came from the opposite direction to that we were traveling. Therefore we hoped that we had eluded those whose earnest desire it was to capture us for the reward. Suddenly, however, a second gun, an answering signal, was fired from straight before us, and that revealed the truth. We were actually between the two parties, and they were closing in upon us. They had already driven us to the edge of the bog. The Finlander recognized our peril as quickly as I did, and halted. Let us turn straight back, he urged breathlessly. We may yet elude them. And then we again turned off at right angles, traveling as quickly as we were able back towards the lake shore. It was an exciting chase in the darkness, for we knew not whether we were going, nor into what pitfall, or ravine, or treacherous marsh we might fall. Once we saw afar through the trees the light of a lantern held by a guard, and already the sweet-faced girl beside me seemed tired and terribly fatigued. But we hurried on and on, striving to make no noise, and yet the crackling of wood beneath our feet seemed to us to sound like the noise of thunder. At last, breathless, we halted to listen. We were already in sight of the gray mist where lay the silent lake that held so many secrets. There was not a sound. The guards had gone straight on, believing they had driven us into that deadly bog wherein, if we had entered, we must have been slowly sucked down and engulfed. They were surrounding it, no doubt, feeling certain of their prey. But we crept along the water's edge until in the gray light we could distinguish two empty boats, that of the guards and our own. We were again at the spot where we had disembarked. Let us row to the head of the lake, suggested the fin. We may then land and escape them. And a moment later we were all three in the guards' boat, rowing with all our might under the deep shadow of the bank northward, in the opposite direction to the town of Neistad. We kept a sharp lookout for any other boat, but saw none. The signals ashore had attracted all the guards to that spot to join in the search, and now, having doubled back and again embarked, we were every moment increasing the distance between ourselves and our pursuers. I think we must have rowed several miles per air we landed again upon a low, flat, and barren shore the first gray streak of day was showing in the east. Elma noticed it and kept her great brown eyes fixed upon it thoughtfully. It was the dawn for her, the dawn of a new life. Our eyes met, she smiled at me, and then gazed again eastward, full of silent meaning. Having landed we drew the boat up and concealed it in the undergrowth so that the guards on searching should not know the direction we had taken, and then we went straight on northward across the low-lying lands to where the forest showed dark against the morning gray. The mist had now somewhat cleared, but the air was keen and frosty. This wood, we found, was of tall, high pines where walking was not difficult, a wide wilderness of trees which hour after hour which reversed in the vain endeavor to find the rough path which our guide told us led for a hundred miles from Aliveau down to Tammersfours, the manufacturing center of the country. But to discover a path in a forest forty miles wide is a matter of considerable difficulty, and for hours we wandered on and on, but at last always in vain, faint and hungry, yet we still kept our courage. Fortunately we found a little spring, and all three of us drank eagerly with our hands. But of food we had nothing, save a small piece of hard rye bread which the Finn had in his pocket, the remains of his evening meal, and this we gave to Elma, who half-famished ate it quickly. We knew quite well that it would be an easy matter to die of salvation in that great trackless forest. Therefore we kept on, on daunted, while the yellow autumn sun struggled through the dark pines, glinting on the straight gray trunks, and reflecting a golden light in that dead, unbroken silence. How many miles we trudged? I have no idea. It was a consolation to know that we now had no pursuers, yet what fate lay before us we knew not. If we could only find that forest road we might come across some woodcutter's hut where we could obtain rough food of some sort, yet our guide used as he was to those enormous woods of central Finland was utterly out of his bearings, and no mark of civilization attracted his quick-experienced eye. The light above gradually faded, and over a sharp stone Elma stumbled and ripped her shoe. I looked at my watch and found that it was already five o'clock. In an hour it would be dark, the beginning of the long northern night. Elma, who was weary and foot sore, asked by signs to be permitted to lay down and rest. Therefore we gathered a bed of dried leaves for her, and she laid down, and while we watched she was soon asleep. The Finn, who declared that he did not suffer from the cold, removed his coat and placed it tenderly upon her shoulders. While there was still a ray of light, I watched her white refined features as she slept, and was sorely tempted to bend and imprint a kiss upon that soft, inviting cheek. Yet I had no right to do so. No right to take such an advantage. The long cold night passed wearily, and the howling of the wolves caused me to grip my revolver, yet at daybreak we arose refreshed, and notwithstanding the terrible pangs of hunger now gnawing at our vitals, we were prepared to renew our desperate dash for liberty. Although I had paper, I possessed no pencil with which to write. Therefore I could only communicate by signs with the mysterious prisoner of Kajana, the beautiful dark-eyed girl who held me irrevocably beneath the spell of her beauty. All the little acts of homage I was able to perform she accepted with a quiet, calm dignity, while in her deep, luminous eyes I read an unfathomable mystery. The mist had not cleared, for it was too soon after dawn when we again moved along, hungry, chill, and yet hopeful. At a spring we obtained some water, and then in silent procession pressed forward in search of the rough track of the woodcutters. Elmo's torn shoe gave her considerable trouble, and noticing her limping I induced her to sit down while I took it off, hoping to be able to mend it. But having unlaced it I saw that upon her stocking was a large pat of congealed blood where her foot itself had also been cut. I managed to beat the nails of the shoe with a stone so that its sole should not be lost, and she readjusted it, allowing me to lace it up for her and smiling the while. Forward we trudged, ever forward across that enormous forest where the myriad tree trunks presented the same dismal scene everywhere. A forest untrodden saved by wild, half-savage lumberman. Throughout that dull grey day we marched onward, faint with hunger, yet suffering but little pain, for the first pangs were now passed and were succeeded by slight, light-headedness. My only fear was that we should be compelled to spend another night without shelter, and what its effect might be upon the delicately reared girl whose hand I held tenderly in mine. Surely my position was a strange one. Her terrible affliction seemed to cause her to be entirely dependent upon me. Suddenly, just as a yellow sunlight overhead had begun to fade, the flat-faced fin, whose name he had told me was Felix Estlander, cried joyfully, Polissete, look, excellency, ah, the road at last! And as we glanced before us we saw that his quick, well-trained eyes had detected a way in the twilight at some distance, a path traversing our vista among the grey-green tree-trunks. Then, hurrying along, we found ourselves upon a track on which we turned to the right, a track rough and deeply rutted by the felled trunks that were dragged along it to the nearest river. Elma made a gesture of renewed hope, and all three of us redoubled our pace, expecting every moment to come upon some long hut, the owner of which would surely give us hospitality for the night. But darkness came on quickly, and yet we still pushed forward. Poor Elma was limping, and I knew that her injured foot was painting her, even though she could tell me nothing. At last, however, after walking for nearly four hours in the almost impenetrable forest gloom, always fearing lest we might miss the path, our hearts suddenly beat quickly by seeing before us a light shining in a window, and five minutes later Felix was knocking at the door and asking in finish the occupant to give hospitality to a lady lost in the forest. We heard a low growl like a muttered imprecation within, and when the door opened there stood upon the threshold a tall, bearded, muscular old fellow in a dirty red shirt with the big revolvers shining in his hand. A quick glass at us satisfied him that we were not thieves, and he invited us in while Felix explained that we had landed from the lake, and our boat having drifted away we had been compelled to take to the woods. The man heard the Finn's picturesque story and then said something to me which Felix translated into Russian. Your Excellency is welcome to all the poor fare he has. He gives up his bed in the room yonder to the lady, so that she may rest. He is honoured by your Excellency's presence. And while he was making this explanation, the Herculean woodcutter in the red shirt stirred the red embers whereon a big pot was simmering, and sending forth an appetizing odor, and in five minutes we were all three sitting down to a stew of cappercale with a foaming light beer as a fitting beverage. We finished the dish with such lightning rapidity that our host boiled us a number of eggs which I fear denuded his larder. The place was a poor one of two low rooms built of rough log pines with double windows for the winter and a high brick stove. Cleanliness was not exactly its characteristic. Nevertheless, we all passed a very comfortable hour and received a warm welcome from the lonely old fellow who passed his life so far beyond European civilization, and whose house he told us was often snowed up and cut off from all the world for three or four months at a time. After we had finished our meal, I asked the sturdy old fellow for a pencil, but the nearest thing he possessed was a stick of thick charcoal, and with that it was surely difficult to communicate with our fair companion. Therefore she rose, gave me her hand, bowed smilingly, and then passed into the inner room and closed the door. The old woodcutter gave us some coarse tobacco, and after smoking and chatting for an hour, we threw ourselves wearily upon the wooden benches and slept soundly. Suddenly, however, at early dawn, we were startled by a loud banging at the door, the clattering of hooves, and authoritative shouts in Russian. The old woodcutter sprang up, and looking through a chink in the heavy shutters turned to us with blanched face, whispering breathlessly. The police! What can they want of me? Open! shouted the horseman outside. Open in the name of His Majesty! Felix and I sprang up, facing each other. We are entrapped. In an instant our guide Felix made a dash for the door of the inner room where Elma had retired, but next second he reappeared, gasping in Russian. Excellency! Why? The door is open. The lady has gone. Gone, I cried, dismayed, rushing into the little room where I found the truckle-couch empty and the door leading outside wide open. She had actually disappeared. The police again banged at the opposite door, threatening loudly to break it in if it were not opened at once, whereupon the old woodcutter drew the bolt and admitted them. Two big hulking fellows in heavy riding-coats and swords strode in, while two others remained, mounted outside, holding the horses. Your names demanded one of the fellows glancing at us as we stood together in expectation. Our host told them his name and asked why they wished to enter. We are searching for a woman who has escaped from Kajana, was the reply. Have you seen any woman here? No, responded the woodcutter. We never see any woman out in these woods. The police officer strode into the inner room, glanced around to make certain that no one was concealed there, and then returning to me asked, Who are you? That is my own affair, I answered. The mystery of Elma's disappearance while we had slept annoyed me. She seemed to have fled from me in secret, yet could she have received some warning that the police were in search of her? She was deaf, therefore she could not have been alarmed by the banging on the door. Your identity is my affair, declared the man with the fair, bristly beard, an average type of the uncouth officer of police. Who is your chief, I inquired, as a sudden thought occurred to me? Melnikov and Helsingpours. Then this is not in the district of a bow? No, but what difference does it make? Who are you? Gordon Gregg, British subject, I replied. And you are the drosky driver from a bow, remarked the fellow turning to Felix? Exactly as I thought, you are the pair who bribed the nun at Kajana, and succeeded in releasing the English woman. In the name of the Tsar I arrest you. The old woodcutter turned pale as death. We certainly were in grave peril, for I foresaw the danger of falling into the hands of Baron Oberg, the strangler of Finland. Yet we had a satisfaction in knowing that, be the mystery what it might, Elma had escaped. And on what charge pray do you presume to arrest me, I inquired as coolly as I could, for aiding a prisoner to escape? Then I wish to say, first, that you have no power to arrest me, and secondly that if you wish me to give you satisfaction, I am perfectly willing to do so, providing you first accompanying me down to a bow. It is outside my district, growled the fellow, but I saw that his hesitancy was due to his uncertainty as to whom I really might be. I desire you to take me to the chief of police, Borensky, who will make all the explanation necessary, until we have an interview with him. I refuse to give you any information concerning myself, I said. But you have a passport? I drew it from my pocket, saying, It proves, I think, that my name is what I have told you. The fellow standing astride read it and handed it back to me. Where is the woman, he demanded, tell me. I don't know, was my reply. Perhaps you will tell me, he said, turning to the old woodcutter, with a sinister expression upon his face. Remember, these fugitives are found in your house, and you are liable to arrest. I don't know, indeed I don't, protested the old fellow, trembling beneath the officer's thread. Like all his class, he feared the police, and held them in dread. Ah, you don't remember, I suppose, he smiled. Well, perhaps your memory will be refreshed by a month or two in prison. You are also arrested. But your Excellency, I enough, blared the bristly officer. You have given shelter to conspirators. You know the penalty in Finland for that, surely. But these gentlemen are surely not conspirators, the poor old man protested. His Excellency is English. And the English do not plot. We shall see afterwards he laughed. And then, turning to the agent of police at his side, he gave him orders to search the log hut carefully, an investigation in which one of the men from the outside joined. They upset everything and pried everywhere. You may find papers or letters, said the officer, searched thoroughly. And in every corner they rummaged, even to taking up a number of boards in the inner room which Elma had occupied. But they found nothing. A dozen times was the old woodcutter question, but he stubbornly refused to admit that he had ever set eyes upon Elma, while I insisted on my right to return to Abo and see Boranski. I knew, of course, by what we had overheard said by the prison guards, that the Governor-General was extremely anxious to recapture the girl with whom I frankly admit I had now so utterly fallen in love. And it appeared that no effort was being spared to search for us. Indeed, the whole of the police in the provinces of Abo and Helsingfors seemed to be actively making a house-to-house search. But what could be the truth of Elma's disappearance? Had she fled of her own accord? Or had she once more fallen a victim to some ingenious and dastardly plot? That gray dress of hers might, I recollected, betray her if she dared to venture near any town, while her affliction would of itself be plain evidence of identification. All I hoped was that she had gone and hidden herself in the forest, somewhere in the vicinity to wait until the danger of recapture had passed. For nearly half an hour I argued with the police officer whose intention it was to take me under arrest to Helsingfors. Once there, however, I knew too well that my liberty would be. Probably gone forever. Whatever was the Baron's motive in holding the poor girl a prisoner, it would also be his motive to silence me. I knew too much for his liking. I refused to go to Helsingfors, I said defiantly. I am a British subject and demand to be taken back to the port where my passport was viz-aid. This argument I repeated time after time, until at length I succeeded in convincing him that I really had a right to be taken to Abo, and to seek the aid of the British vice-counsel if necessary. For as long as possible I succeeded in delaying our departure, but at length, just as a yellow sun began to struggle through the grey clouds, we were all three compelled to depart in sourful procession. What we wondered had really happened to Elma. It was evident that she had not fallen into the hands of the police. Nevertheless, the fact that the door of the inner room was open caused them to look upon the statement of the woodcutter with distinct suspicion and disbelief. Our captors seemed quite well aware of all the circumstances of our escape from Kijana, and were consequently filled with chagrin that Elma, the person they so much desired to recapture, had slipped through their fingers. While the police rode, we were compelled to walk before them, and after trudging ten miles or so through the forest, we came across another small posse of police, who were apparently in search of us, for they expressed delight when they saw us under arrest. Where was the woman, inquired one officer of the other. Still at liberty replied the man who held us as prisoners. In hiding, twenty versed back, I think, ah, we shall find her before long, he said confidently. Within twelve hours we shall have searched the whole forest. She could not escape us. Our captors explained who we were, and then we were pushed forward again, skirting a great wide lake called the Nazjarvi, along the wooden shore of which we walked the whole day long until, at sundown, we came to a picturesque little log-built town facing the water, called Fipula. Here we obtained a hasty meal, and afterwards took the train down to a bow, where we arrived next morning, after a very uncomfortable and sleepless journey. At nine o'clock I stood in the big bear office of Michael Baransky, where only a few days before we had had such a heated argument. As soon as the chief of police entered, he recognized me under arrest, and dismissed my guards with the wave of a hand, all saved the officer who had brought me there. The finished driver and the old woodcutter were in another room, therefore I stood alone with the police officer of Helsingfors and the chief of police at a bow. The latter listened to the officer's story of my arrest without saying a word. The prisoner, your Excellency, desired to be brought here to you before being taken to Helsingfors. He said you would be aware of the facts. And so I am, remarked Baransky with a smile. There is no conspiracy. You must at once release this gentleman and the other two prisoners. But Excellency, the Governor-General, has issued orders for the prisoner's arrest and deportation to Helsingfors. That may be, but I am chief of police at a bow, and I release him. The officer looked at me in such blank astonishment that I could not resist smiling. I am well aware of this Englishman's visit to the north, added Baransky. More need not be said. Has the lady been arrested? Know your Excellency. Every effort is being made to find her. Colonel Smirnov has already been relieved of his post as Governor of Kajana, and many of the guards are under arrest for complicity in the plot to allow the woman to escape. Ah, yes, I see from the dispatches that a reward is offered for her recapture. The Governor-General has determined that she shall not escape, remarked the other. She is probably hidden in the forest, somewhere or other. Of course, they are making a thorough search over every verse of it. If she is there, she will most certainly be found. No doubt, remarked Baransky, leaning back in his padded chair and looking at me meaningly across the littered table. And now I wish to speak to this Englishman privately, so please leave us. Also inform the other two prisoners that they are at liberty, but your Excellency does this upon his own responsibility, he said anxiously. Remember that I brought them to you under arrest. And I release them entirely at my own discretion, he said. As chief of police of this province, I am permitted to use my jurisdiction, and I exercise it in this matter. You are liberty to report that at Helsingfors, if you so desire. But I should suggest that you say nothing, unless absolutely obliged. You understand? The manner in which Baransky spoke apparently decided my captor. For after a moment's hesitation he said, saluting. If that is really your wish, then I will obey. And he left. Excellency exclaimed the chief of police, rising quickly, and walking towards me as soon as the door was closed, and we were alone. You have had a very narrow escape, very. I did my best to assist you. I succeeded in bribing the water guards at Kajana in order that you might secure the lady's release. But it seems that just at the very moment when you were about to get away, one of the guards turned informer and roused the governor of the castle, with the result that you all three nearly lost your lives. The whole matter has been reported to me officially, and, he added with a grim smile, my men are now searching everywhere for you. But why is Baron Oberg so extremely anxious to recapture Miss Heath? I asked earnestly. I have no idea, was his reply. The secret orders from Helsingfors to me are to arrest her at all hazards, alive or dead. Which means that the Baron would not regret if she was dead, I remarked, in response to which he nodded in the affirmative. I told him of the faithful services of Felix the Finlander, whereupon he said simply, I told you that you might trust him implicitly. But now that you have shown yourself, my friend, I said, you will assist Miss Heath to escape this man, who deserves to hold her prisoner in that awful place, they are driving her mad. I will do my best, he answered, but shaking his head dubiously. But you must recollect that Baron Oberg is Governor-General of Finland, with all the powers of the Tsar himself, and if elma Heath again falls into his unscrupulous hands, she will die, I declared. Ah, he sighed, looking me straight in the face. I fear that what you say is only too true. She evidently holds some secret which he fears she will reveal. He wishes to re-arrest her in order, well, he added in a low tone, in order to close her lips. It would not be the first time that persons have been silenced in secret at Kajana. Many fatal accidents take place in that fortress, you know. End of Chapter 11 Part 2 Recording by Tom Weiss Chapter 12 of The Tsar's Spy This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Weiss The Tsar's Spy by William Le Cue Chapter 12 The Strangler Where was Elma? What was the cause of her inexplicable disappearance into the gloomy forest while we had slept? I returned to the hotel where I had stayed on my arrival, a comfortable place called The Phoenix, and lunch there alone. Both Felix, The Finn, and my host, The Woodcutter, had received their Dussers and left, but to the last named I had given instructions to return home at once and report by telegraph any news of my lost one. A thousand conflicting thoughts arose within me as I sat in that crowded Selemoshi, filled with a gobbling crowd of the commercial men of a bow. I had, I recognized, now to deal with the most powerful man in that country, and I suffered a distinct disadvantage by being in ignorance of the reason he held that sweet English girl a prisoner. The tragedy of the dastardly manner in which he had been willfully maimed caused my blood to boil within me. I had never believed that in this civilized twentieth century such things could be. Michael Boronsky had given his pledge to assist me, yet he had most plainly explained to me his fears. The Baron was intent upon again getting Elma into his power. Was it at his orders I wondered that the sweet-faced girl had been deprived of speech and hearing? Had she fallen an innocent victim to his infamous scheming? About me men were eating strange dishes and talking in finish, while others were smoking and drinking their vodka. But I was in no mood for observation. My only thought was of she who was now lost to me. Why had she disappeared without warning I was at loss to imagine, yet I could only surmise that her flight had been compulsory. Some women possess a mysterious sense of intuition, a curious and indescribable faculty of knowing when evil threatens them that presents a strange and puzzling problem to our scientists. It is unaccountable, and yet many women possess it in a very marked degree. Was it therefore possible that Elma had awakened and being warned of her peril had fled without arousing us? The suggestion was possible, but I feared improbable. Another very curious feature in the affair was the sudden manner in which Michael Baransky had exerted his power and influence in order to render me that service. He had actually bribed the garbs of Kajana. He had instructed the faithful Felix. He had provided our boat. And he had ordered the nun to open the water gate to me. Why? There was, I felt convinced, some hidden motive in all that sudden and marked friendliness. That he really hated the English I had seen plainly when we had first met. And I had only compelled him to serve me by presenting the order signed by the emperor, which made me his guest within the Russian dominions. Even that document did not account for the length he had gone to secure the release of the woman I now loved in secret. The more I plot it over, the more anxious did I become. I could discern no motive for his friendliness, and truth to tell, I always distrust those who are too friendly. What straight and decided line of action should I take? Carefully I went over all the strange events that had happened in England, and while anxious to obtain some solution of the amazing problem, yet I could not bring myself to leave Finland, and allow Elma to fall into the clutches of that high official who so persistently sought her end. No, I would go to him and face him. I was anxious to see what manner of man was the strangler of Finland. Therefore that same evening I left de Beau, and traveled by rail up to the junction of Toyala. Once, after a wait of six hours, I resumed by a slow journey to Helsingfors. I put up at Kamps, an elegant hotel on the long Esplanada overlooking the port, and found the town with its handsome streets and spacious squares to be a much finer place than I had believed. When I inquired of the French director of my hotel for the residence of his Excellency, the Governor-General, he regarded me with some surprise, saying, The Baron lives up at the palace majeure. That great building opposite the Salyotank, the driver of your drosky, will point it out to you. Is his Excellency in Helsingfors at the present moment, I asked? The Baron never leaves the palace majeure, responded the man. This is a strange country you know, he added with a grin. It is said that his Excellency is in hourly fear of assassination. Perhaps not without cause, I remarked in a low voice, at which he elevated his shoulders and smiled. At noon I descended from a drosky before a long, gray, massive building, over the big doorway of which was a large escutcheon bearing the Russian arms emblazoned in gold, and on entering where a sentry stood on either side, a colossal consurg in livery of bright blue and gold came forward to meet me, asking in Russian, Whom do you wish to see? His Excellency the Governor-General, have you an appointment? No. His Excellency sees no one without an appointment, the man told me somewhat gruffly. I am not here on public business, but upon a private matter, I explained. Perhaps I may see his Excellency's secretary, if you wish, but I repeat that his Excellency sees no one without a previous appointment. I knew this quite well, for the strangler of Finland, fearful of assassination, was as unapproachable as the Tsar himself. Following the directions of the consurg, however, I crossed a great bare courtyard and ascending a wide stone staircase was confronted by a servant, who on hearing my inquiry took me into a waiting room and left with my card to Colonel Luganski, whom he informed me was the Baron's private secretary. After ten minutes or so the man returned, saying, the Colonel will see you if you will please step this way, and following him he conducted me into the richly furnished private apartments of the palace, across a great hall filled with fine paintings, and then up a long, thickly carpeted passage to a small, elegant room where a tall bald-headed man in military uniform stood awaiting me. Your name is Monsieur Gregg, he exclaimed in very good French, and I understand you desire audience of his Excellency the Governor-General. I regret, however, that he never gives audience to strangers. The matter upon which I desire to see his Excellency is of a purely private and confidential nature, I said. For used as I was to the ways of foreign officialdom, I spoke with the same firm courtesy as himself. I am very sorry, Monsieur, but I fear it will be necessary in that case for you to write to his Excellency and mark your letter personal. It will then go into the Governor-General's own hands. What I have to say cannot be committed to writing, was my reply. I must see Baron Oberg upon a matter which affects him personally, and which admits of no delay. He glanced at me quickly, and then in a low voice inquired, is it in regard to, ah, well, a conspiracy? His question instantly suggested to me a ruse, and I replied in the affirmative, then you can place the facts before me without the slightest hesitation. He said going to the door and slipping the bolt into its socket. Anything spoken into my ear is as though it were spoken into that of his Excellency himself. I much regret, Monsieur the Colonel, that I must see the Baron in person. Has the plot assassination as its object or revolt, he asked pointedly. That I will explain to the Baron only, but I tell you he will not see you. We have so many persons here with secret information concerning Finnish conspiracies against our Russian rule. Why, if his Excellency saw everyone who desired to see him, he would be compelled to give audience the whole twenty-four hours round. At a glance I saw that this elegant Colonel, who seemed to take the greatest pride over his exquisitely kept person and his spotless uniform, did not intend to allow me the satisfaction of an audience of that most hated official of the Tsar. The latter was in fear of the dagger, the pistol or the bomb, and consequently hedged himself in by persons of the Colonel's type, courteous, diplomatic, but utterly unbending. After some further argument I said at last in a firm tone. I wish to impress upon you the extreme importance of the information I have to impart, and can only repeat that it is a matter concerning his Excellency privately. Will you therefore do me the favor to take my name to him? His Excellency refuses to be troubled with the names of strangers, was his cold reply, as he turned over my card in his hand. But if I write upon it the nature of my business, and enclose it in an envelope, will you then take it to him, I suggested? He hesitated for a short time, twisting his moustache, and then replied with great reluctance. Well, if you are so determined, you may write your business upon your card. I therefore took out one, and on the back wrote in French the words which I knew must have the effect of obtaining an audience for me. To give information regarding Miss Elma Heath. This I enclosed in the envelope he handed to me, when ringing a bell he handed it to the footmen who appeared, with orders to take it to his Excellency and await a reply. The response came in a few minutes. His Excellency will give audience to the English Missouri. Then I rose and followed the footmen through several wide corridors filled with palms and flowers, which formed a kind of winter garden, until we crossed a red carpeted anti-room, where two statuesque sentries stood on guard, and the man conducting me wrapped at the great polished mahogany doors of the room beyond. A voice responded, the door was opened, and I found myself in a high, beautifully painted room, with long windows hung with pastel blue silk, with heavy gilt fringe, a pastel blue carpet, and upon the opposite wall a great canopy of rich purple velvet burying the double-headed eagle embroidered in gold. The apartment was splendidly decorated, and in the center of the paraquette floor, with his back to the light, was the thin, wiry figure of an elderly man in a funereal frock coat, in the lapel of which showed the red and yellow ribbon of the Order of St. Anne. His hands were behind his back, and he stood purposely in such a position that when I entered I could not at first see his face against the strong gray light behind. But when the footmen had bowed and retired, and we were alone, he turned slightly, and I then saw that his bony face, with high cheekbones, slight gray side whiskers, hard mouth and black eyes set closely together was one that bore the mark of evil upon it, the keen, sinister countenance of one who could act without any compunction and without regret. Truly one would not be surprised at any cruel, dastardly action of a man with such a face, the face of an oppressor. Well, he snapped in French in a high-pitched voice, you want to see me concerning that mad English girl, what picturesque lies you intend to tell me concerning her? I have no intention of telling any untruth concerning her, was my quick response, as I faced him unflinchingly. She has told me sufficient to, she has told you something, ah, I guessed as much, I expected this, and I saw that his thin crafty face went pale while his eyes glanced evilly upon me. He believed that she had revealed to me her secret. He placed his hand upon the back of a chair wherein was concealed an electric button, and next instant a little stout man in shabby black appeared, as though by magic through a secret door hidden in the dark paneling of the audience chamber, the man who was his personal guard against the plots for his assassination. His excellency spoke, and the words he uttered staggered me. I stood aghast. Seize that man. He cried, pointing to me. He is armed. He has just threatened to kill me. He is the man against whom we were recently warned, the Englishman. Ah, I cried, standing before the thin-faced official of the Tsar, the unscrupulous man who had crushed Finland beneath the iron heel of Russia, and who, by his lying allegation, now held me in his power. I see your object, Baron Ober, you intend to arrest me as a conspirator. Search the fellow. He has a revolver there in his hip pocket, declared the Governor-General, and in an instant the short ferreted-eyed little man had run his hands down me and felt my weapon. I drew it forth and handed it to him, saying, You are quite welcome to it if you fear that I am here with any sinister motive. He obtained admission by a clever ruse, the Baron explained to the police agent, and then he threatened me. It's untrue, I protested hotly. I have merely called to see you regarding the young English lady, El-Mahith, the unfortunate lady whom you consigned to the fortress of Kajana. The madwoman you mean, he laughed. She is not mad, I cried, but is sane as you yourself. It is you who intended that the horrors of the castle should drive her insane, and thus your secret should be kept. What do you suggest, he demanded? Stepping a few paces towards me. I mean, Xavier Oberg, that you would kill El-Mahith if you dared to do so, I answered plainly as I faced him unclinchingly. You see, he laughed, turning to the stout man at my side. The fellow is insane. He does not know what he is talking about. Ah, my dear Malkov, I've had a narrow escape. He came here intending to shoot me. I did not, I protested. I am here to demand satisfaction on behalf of Miss Heath. Oh, well, if the lady cares to come here herself, I will give her the satisfaction she desires, was his crafty reply. The lady has escaped you, and it is therefore hardly likely she will willingly return to Helsingfors, I said. It was you who succeeded by throwing the guard into the water in abducting her from the castle, he remarked, but he had it sneeringly with a sinister smile. I presume your gallantry was prompted by affection, eh? That is my own affair. A deaf and dumb woman is surely not a very cheerful companion. And who caused her that affliction, I cried hotly. When she was at Chai Chester, she possessed speech and hearing as other girls. Indeed, she was not afflicted when on board the Lola in Legorn Harbor only a few months ago. Perhaps you recollect the narrow escape the yacht had on the Maloria Sands. His eyes met mine, and I saw by his drawn face a narrow browse that my words were causing him the utmost consternation. My object was to make him believe that I knew more than I really did, to hold him in fear, in fact. Perhaps the man whom some know as Hornby or Woodruff could tell an interesting story I went on. He will, no doubt, when he meets El-Mahith and finds the terrible affliction of which she has been the victim. His thin bony countenance was bloodless, his mouth twitched, and his gray brows contracted quickly. I haven't the least idea what you mean, my dear sir, he stammered. All that you say is entirely enigmatic to me. What have I to do with this mad English woman's affairs? Send out this man, I said, pointing to the detective Malkov, who had appeared from behind the paneling of the audience chamber. Send him out, and I will tell you. But the representative of the Tsar, always as much in dread of assassination as his imperial master, refused. I saw that what I had said had upset him, and that he was not at all clear as to how much or how little of the true facts I knew. The connection between the little miniature cross of the Order of St. Anne and that red and yellow ribbon in his buttonhole struck me forcibly at the moment, and I said, I have no desire to make any statements before a second person. I came here to see you privately, and in private will I speak. I have certain information that will, I feel confident, be of the utmost interest to you, concerning another woman, Armida Santini. His lips were pressed together, and I noticed how he started when I uttered the name of that woman whom I had found dead in renaque wood, and whose body had so mysteriously disappeared. And what on earth can the woman concern me, he asked, with a brave attempt to remain cool, still speaking in French? Only that you knew her, was my brief reply. Then with my eyes still fixed upon his, I asked, will you not now request this gentleman to retire? He hesitated a moment, and then with a wave of his hand dismissed the man he had summoned to his aid. A moment later the strangler's personal protector had disappeared through that secret door in the paneling by which he had entered. Well, asked the Baron turning quickly to me again, his dark evil eyes trying to fathom my intentions. Well, I asked, and what prey can you profit by denouncing me as an assassin? Remember, Baron, that your secret is mine, I said, in a clear voice, full of meaning. And your intention is blackmail, eh? He snapped, walking to the window, and back again. How much do you want? My intention is nothing of the kind. My object is to avenge the outrageous injury to El-Mahiv. Of course, that is only natural mature, if you have fallen in love with her, he said. But are not your intentions somewhat ill-advised, considering her position as a criminal lunatic? She is neither, I protested quickly. Very well, you know better than myself, he laughed. The offense for which she was condemned to confinement in a fortress was the attempted assassination of Madame Vakorov, wife of the general commanding the Ulyoburg military division. Assassination, I cried. Have you actually sent her to prison as a murderous? I have not. The criminal board of a beau did so, he said, dryly. The offense has since been proved to have been the outcome of a political conspiracy, and the minister of the interior in Petersburg last week signed an order for the prisoner's transportation to the island of Sakhalyan. Ah, I remarked with set teeth, because you fear lest she shall write down your secret. You are insulting. You evidently do not know what you are saying, he exclaimed resentfully. I know what I am saying quite well. You have requested her removal to Sakhalyan, in order that the truth shall never be known. But Baron O. Berg, I added with mock politeness, you may do as you will. You may send Elma Heath to her grave. You may hold me prisoner if you dare. But there are still witnesses of your crime that will rise against you. In an instant he went ghastly pale. And I knew that my blind shot had struck its mark. The man before me was guilty of some crime. But what it was only Elma herself could tell. That he had had her arrested for an attempted political assassination only showed how ingeniously and craftily the heartless ruler of that ruined country had laid his plans. He feared Elma, and therefore had conspired to have her sent out to that dismal penal island in the far off Pacific. You do not fear arrest, monsieur, he asked, as though with some surprise. Not in the least, at least not arrest by you. You may be the representative of the emperor in Finland, but even here there is justice for the innocent. A sinister smile played around the thin gray lips of the man whose very name was hated through the great empire of the Tsar, and was synonymous of oppression, injustice, and heartless tyranny. All I can repeat, he said, is that if you bring the young English woman here, I shall be quite prepared to hear her appeal. And he laughed harshly. You ask that because you know it is impossible, I said, whereas he again laughed in my face. A laugh which made me wonder whether Elma had not already fallen into his hands. The uncertainty of her fate held me in terrible suspense. I merely wish to impress upon you the fact that I have not the slightest interest whatever in the person in question. He said coldly, you seem to have formed some romantic attachment towards this young woman who attempted to poison Madame Bakurov and to have succeeded in rescuing her from Kajana. You afterwards disregard the fact that you are liable to a long term of imprisonment yourself and actually have the audacity to seek audience of me and make all sorts of hints and suggestions that I have held the woman a prisoner for my own ends. Not only do I repeat that, Baron Oberk, I said quickly, but I also allege that it was at your instigation that in Siena an operation was performed upon the unfortunate girl, which deprived her of speech and hearing. At my instigation? Yes, at yours. He laughed again, but uneasily, a forced laugh, and leaned against the edge of the big writing table near the window. Well, what next? He inquired, pretending to be interested in my allegations. What do you want of me? I desire you to give the mademoiselle Heath her complete freedom, I said. Is that all? All for the present, but her future is not in my hands. The minister in Petersburg has decreed her removal to Sughalyan as a person dangerous to the state, which means that she will be ill-treated, knouted to death, perhaps. We do not use the knout in the Russian prisons nowadays, he said briefly. His majesty has decreed its abolition. But you adopt torture in Kajana and Shusselberg instead. My time is too limited to discuss our penal system is sure, he exclaimed impatiently, while I could well see that he was anxious to escape before I made any further charges against him. I had already shown him that Elma had spoken, and he feared that she had told the truth. While this would embitter him against her and cause him to seek to silence her at all hazards, it was of course in my own interest that he should fear any revelations that I might make. You have posed in England as the uncle of Elma Heath, and yet you hold her prisoner. For what reason, I demanded, she is held prisoner by the state for conspiracy against Russian rule, not by herself personally. Who enticed her here? Why you yourself? Who conspired to throw the guilt of this attempted murder of the general's wife upon her? You, you, the man whom they call the Strangler of Finland. But I will avenge the cruel and abominable affliction you have placed upon her. Her secret, your secret, Baron Oberg, shall be published to the world. You are her enemy, and therefore mine. Very well, he growled between his teeth, advancing towards me, threateningly, his fist clenched in rage. Recollect, mature, that you have insulted me. Recollect that I am Governor General of Finland. If you were Tsar himself, I should not hesitate to denounce you as the tyrant and mutilator of a poor, defenseless woman. And to whom, pray, will you tell this romantic story of yours? He laughed torsely. To your prison walls below the lake of Kejana? Yes, Major Greg, you will go there. And once within the fortress you shall never again see the light of day. You threaten me, the Governor General of Finland. He laughed in a strange, high-pitched key as he threw himself into a chair, and scribbled something rapidly upon paper, appending his signature in his small, crabbed handwriting. I do not threaten, I said in open defiance. I shall act. And so shall I. He said with an evil grin upon his bony face, as he blotted what he had written, and took it up, adding, In the darkness and silence of your living tomb, you can tell whatever strange stories you like concerning me. They are used to idiots where you are going, he added grimly. Oh, and where am I going? Back to Kejana. This order consigns you to confinement there as a dangerous political conspiracy, as one who has threatened me. It consigns you to the cells below the lake for life. I laughed aloud, and my hand sought my wallet wherein was that all powerful document, the order of the Emperor which gave me, as an imperial guest, immunity from arrest. I would produce it as my trump card. Next second, however, I held my breath, and I think I must have turned pale. My pocket was empty. My wallet had been stolen. Entirely and helplessly, I had fallen into the hands of the tyrant of the Tsar. His own personal interest would be to consign me to a living tomb in that grim fortress of Kejana, the horrors of which were unspeakable. I had seen enough during my inspection of the Russian prisons as a journalist to know that there, in strangled Finland, I should not be treated with the same consideration or humanity as in Petersburg or Warsaw. The Governor-General consigned me to Kejana as a political, which was synonymous with the sentence of death in those damp, dark, bublettes beneath the water dungeons every wit as awful as those of the Paris Bastille. We faced each other and I looked straight into his gray, bony face and answered in a tone of defiance. You are, Governor-General, it is true, but you will, I think, reflect before you can sign me, an Englishman, to prison without trial. I know full well that the English are hated by Russia, yet I assure you that in London we entertain no love for your nation or its methods, yes, he laughed, you are quite right. Russia has no use for an defeat ally, such as England is. If feat are powerful, my country is still able to present an ultimatum when diplomacy requires it, I said. Therefore I have no fear. Send me to prison, and I tell you that the responsibility rests upon yourself. And folding my arms I kept my eyes intently upon his, so that he should not see that I wavered. As for the responsibility, I certainly do not fear that, majeure, he said. But that exposure that will result, are you prepared to face that, I asked. Perhaps you are not aware that others besides myself, one other indeed, who is a diplomatess, is aware of my journey here? If I do not return, your Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Petersburg will be pressed for reason, which they will not give. Then if they do not, the truth will be out, I said, laughing harshly, for I saw how determined he had become to hold me prisoner. Come, call up your Murmadan, and send me to Kajana. It will be the first step towards your own downfall. We shall see, he growled. Ah, you surely do not think that I, after ten years' service in the British Diplomatic Service, would dare to come to Finland upon this quest, would dare to face the rotten and corrupt officialdom which Russia has placed within this country, without first taking some adequate precaution? No, Baron. Therefore, I defy you, and I leave Helsingfors tonight. You will not, you are under arrest. I laughed heartily, and snapped my fingers, saying, Before you give me over to your police. First telegraph to your Minister of Finance, Monsieur de Wit, and inquire of him who and what I am. I don't understand you. You have merely to send my name and description to the Minister, and ask for a reply, I said. He will give you instructions, or, if you so desire, ask his Majesty yourself. And why, pray, does his Majesty concern himself about you, he asked at once, puzzled. You will learn later, after I am confined in Kajana, and your secret is known in Petersburg. What do you mean? I mean, I said, I mean that I have taken all the necessary steps to be forearmed against you. The day I am incarcerated by your order, the whole truth will be known. I shall not be the sufferer, but you will. My words, purposely enigmatol, misled him. He saw the drift of my argument, and being, of course, unaware of how much I knew, he was still in fear of me. My only uncertainty was of the actual fate of poor Elma. My wallet had been stolen, with a purpose without a doubt, for the thief had deprived me of that most important of all documents, the open sesame to every closed door, the yukis of the czar. You defy me, he said hoarsely, turning back to the window with a written order from my imprisonment as a political still in his hand. But we shall see. You rule Finland, I said in a hard tone. But you have no power over Gordon Gray. I have power and intend to exert it. For your own ruin I remarked with a self-confident smile. You may give your torturer's orders to kill me, orders that a fatal accident shall occur within the fortress. But I tell you frankly that my death will neither erase nor conceal your own offenses. There are others away in England who are aware of them, and who will in order to avenge my death speak the truth. Remember that although Elma Heath has been deprived of both hearing and of speech, she can still write down the true facts in black and white. The czar may be your patron, and you his favorite, but his majesty has no tolerance of officials who are guilty of what you are guilty of. You talk of arresting me, I added with a smile. Why, you ought rather to go on your knees and beg my silence. He went white with rage at my cutting sarcasm. He literally boiled over, for he saw that I was quite cool and had no fear of him or of the terrible punishment to which he intended to consign me, besides which he was filled with wonder regarding the exact amount of information which Elma had imparted to me. There are certain persons I went on, to whom it would be of intense interest to know the true reason why the steam-yacht Lola put into Legorn, why I was entertained on board her, why the safe in the British Councilit was rifled, and why the unfortunate girl, kept a prisoner on board, was taken on shore just before the hurried sailing of the vessel. And there are other mysteries which the English police are trying to solve, namely the reason Armeida Santini, and a man disguised as her husband, died in Scotland at the hand of an assassin. But surely I need say no more. It is surely sufficient to convince you that if the truth were spoken, the revelations would be distinctly awkward, for whom, he asked, opening his eyes. For you, come, Baron, I said. Can we not yet speak frankly? But he was silent for a moment, a fact which was in itself proof that my pointed argument had caused him to reconsider his intention of sending me under escort back to that castle of terror. If my journey there was in order to meet my love, I would not have cared. It was the ignorance of her whereabouts or of her fate that held me in such deep, all-consuming anxiety. Each hour that passed increased my fond and tender affection for her. And yet, what irony of circumstance, she had been cruelly snatched from me at the very moment that freedom had been ours. I think it was well that I assumed that air of defiance with the man who had ground Finland beneath his heel. He was unused to it. No one dared to go against his will or to utter taunt or threat to him. He was paramount with all the powers of an emperor, the power, indeed, of life and death. Therefore, he was not in the habit of being either thwarted or criticized, and I could see that my words had aroused within him a boiling tumult of resentment and of rage. I told him nothing of the loss of my wallet or of the precious document that it had contained. My defiance was merely upon principle. Arrest me if you like. Denounce me by means of any lie that arises to your lips. But remember that the truth is known beyond the confines of the Russian empire, and for that reason traces will be sought of me and full explanation demanded. I have taken precaution, Xavier Oberg, I added. Therefore, do your worst. I repeat again that I defy you. He paced the big room, his thin, claw-like hands still clenched, his yellow teeth grinding, his dark, deep-set eyes fixed straight before him. If he had dared, he would have struck me down at his feet. But he did not dare. I saw too plainly that even though my wallet was gone, I still held the trump card, that he feared me. The mention I had made of the Minister of Finance, however, seemed to cause him considerable hesitation. That high official had the ear of the emperor, and if I were a friend there might be inquiries. As I stood before him, leaning against a small, bulle table, I watched all the complex workings of his mind, and tried to read the mysterious motive which had caused him to consign poor Elma to Kajana. He was a proud bully, possessing neither pity nor remorse, an average specimen of the high Russian official, a hide-bound bureaucrat, a slave to etiquette, and possessing a veneer of polish. But beneath it all I saw that he was a coward, in deadly fear of assassination, a coward who dreaded less some secret should be revealed. That concealed door in the paneling with the armed guard lurking behind was sufficiently plain evidence that he was not the fearless governor general that was popularly supposed. He, the strangler of Finland, had crushed the gallant nation into submission, ruining their commerce, sapping the country by impressing its youth into the Russian army, forbidding the use of the Finnish language, and taxing the people until the factories had been compelled to close down while the peasantry starved. And now, on the verge of revolt, there had arisen a band of patriots who resented ruin, and who had already warned his majesty by letter that if Baron Ober were not removed from his post, he would die. These and other thoughts ran through my mind in the silence that followed our heated argument, for I saw well that he was in actual fear of me. I had led him to believe that I knew everything, and that his future was in my hands, while he on his part was anxious to hold me prisoner, and yet dared not do so. My wallet had probably been stolen by some lurking police spy, for Russian agents abound everywhere in Finland, reporting conspiracies that do not exist, and denouncing the innocent as politicals. The Baron had halted and was looking through one of the great windows down upon the courtyard below, where the sentries were pacing. The palace was for him a gilded prison, for he dared not go out for a drive in one or other of the parks, or for a blow on the water, across the hug-holmen or dagariel, being compelled to remain there for months without showing himself publicly. People in a bow had told me that when he did go out in the streets of Helsingfors, it was at night, and he usually disguised himself in the uniform of a private soldier of the guard, thus escaping recognition by those who, driven to desperation by injustice, sought his life. A long silence had fallen between us, and it now occurred to me to take advantage of his hesitation. Therefore I said in a firm voice, in French, I think Baron, our interview is at an end, is it not? Therefore I wish you good day. He turned upon me suddenly with an evil flash in his dark eyes, and a snarling implication in Russian upon his lips, his hand still held the order committing me to the fortress. But before I leave you, you will destroy that document. It may fall into other hands, you know. And I walked towards him with quick determination. I shall do nothing of a kind, he snapped. Without further word, I snatched the paper from his thin white fingers, and tore it up before his face. His countenance went livid. I do not think I have ever seen a man's face assume such an expression of fiendish vindictiveness. It was as though at that instant hell had been let loose within his heart. But I turned upon my heel and went out, passing the sentries in the anti-room, along the flower-filled corridors, and across the courtyard to the main entrance, where the gorgeous consurg saluted me as I stepped forth into the square. I had escaped by means of my own diplomacy and firmness. The Tsar's representative, the man who ruled that country, feared me, and for that reason did not hold me prisoner. Yet when I recalled that evil look of revenge on my departure, I could not help certain feelings of grave apprehension arising within me. Returning to my hotel, I smoked a cigar in my room and pondered. Where was Elma, was the chief question which arose within my mind. By remaining in Helsingfors I could achieve nothing further, now that I had made the acquaintance of the oppressor, whereas if I returned to a bow, I might perchance be able to obtain some clue to my love's whereabouts. I called her my love because I both pitied and loved the poor, afflicted girl who was so helpless and defenseless. Therefore I took the midnight train back to a bow, arriving at the hotel next morning. After an hour's rest I set out anxiously in search of Felix, the drosky driver. I found him in his long-built house in the Ludnow quarter, and when he asked me in I saw from his face that he had news to impart. Well, I inquired. And what of the lady? Has she been found? Ah, your Excellency, it is a pity you were not here yesterday, he said with a sigh. Why, tell me quickly, what has happened? I have been assisting the police's spy Excellency as I often do, and I have seen her. Seen her where I cried in quick anxiety, here in the bow. She arrived yesterday morning from Tamerfors, accompanied by an Englishman. She had changed her dress and was all in black. They lunched together at the restaurant de Neuert, opposite the landing stage, and an hour later left by steamer for Petersburg. An Englishman I cried. Did you not inform the chief of police Poransky? Yes, your Excellency, but he said that their passports being in order, it was better to allow the lady to proceed, to delay her might mean her re-arrest in Finland, he added. Then their passports were besaid here on embarking, I exclaimed. What was the name upon that of the Englishman? I have written it down, Excellency. I cannot pronounce your difficult English names, and he produced a scrap of dirty paper, whereon was written in a Russian hand the name Martin Woodruff. End of Chapter 12, Recording by Tom Weiss Chapter 13 of the Tsar's Spy This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Weiss The Tsar's Spy by William LeCue Chapter 13 A Double Game and Its Consequences I went to the railway station, and from the timetable gathered that if I left a bow by rail at noon I could be in Petersburg an hour before noon on the morrow, or about four hours before the arrival of the steamer by which the silent girl and her companion were passengers. This I decided upon doing, but before leaving I paid a visit to my friend Baransky, who to my surprise and delight handed me my wallet with the Tsar's letter intact, saying that it had been found upon a German thief who had been arrested at the harbor on the previous night. The fellow had no doubt stolen it from my pocket, believing I carried my paper money in the flat. The affair of the English lady is a most extraordinary one, remarked the chief of police, toying with his pen as he sat at his big table. She seems to have met this Englishman up at Tamifor's, or at some place further north, yet it is curious that her passport should be in order even though she fled so precipitately from Kajana. There is a mystery connected with her disappearance from the woodcutter's hut that I confess I cannot fathom. Neither can I, I said. I know the man who is with her, and cannot help fearing that he is her bitterest enemy, that he is acting in concert with the Baron. Then why is he taking her to the capital, beyond the jurisdiction of a governor general? I am going straight to Petersburg to a certain, I said. I have only come to thank you for your kindness in this matter. Truth to tell, I have been somewhat surprised that you should have interested yourself on my behalf. I added, looking straight at the uniformed official. It was not on yours, but on hers, he answered somewhat ignomatically. I know something of the affair, but it was my duty as a man to help the poor girl to escape from that terrible place. She has, I know, been unjustly condemned for the attempted assassination of the wife of a general. Condemned with a purpose, of course. Such a thing is not unusual in Finland. Abominable, I cried. Oberk is a veritable fiend. But the man only shrugged his shoulders, saying, the orders of his Excellency the governor general have to be obeyed, whatever they are. We often regret, but we dare not refuse to carry them out. Russia is a disgrace to our modern civilization, I declared hotly. I have every sympathy with those who are fighting for freedom. Ah, you are not alone in that, he sighed, speaking in a low whisper, and glancing around. His Majesty would order reforms and ameliorate the condition of his people, if only it were possible. But he, like his officials, are powerless. Here we speak of the great uprising with fated breath, but we alas know that it must come one day, very soon, and Finland will be the first to endeavor to break her bonds, and the Baron Oberk the first to fall. For nearly an hour I sat with him, surprised to find how, although his exterior was so harsh and uncouth, yet his heart really bled for the poor starving people he was so constantly forced to oppress. I have ruined this town of a bow, he declared quite frankly. To my own knowledge, five hundred innocent persons have gone to prison, and another two hundred have been exiled to Siberia. Yet what I have done is only at direct orders from Helsingfors, orders that are stern, pitiless, and unjust. Men have been torn from their families and sent to the mines, women have been arrested for no offense, and shipped off to Sakhalian, and mere children have been cast into prison on charges of political conspiracy with their elders in order to rustify the province. Only, he added anxiously, I trust you will never repeat what I tell you. You have asked me why I assisted the English Mademoiselle to escape from Kajana, and I have explained the reason. We ate a hearty meal in the company at the Sampalina, a restaurant built like a Swiss chalet, and at noon I entered the train on the first stage of my slow, tedious journey through the great silent forest and along the shores of the lakes of Southern Finland by way of Travestius and Vyborg to Petersburg. I was alone in the compartment and sat mootily watching the panorama of wood and river as we slowly wound up the tortuous ascents and descended the steep gradients. I had not even a newspaper with which to wile away the time, only my own apprehensive thoughts of wither my helpless love was being conducted. Surely to no man was there ever presented such a complicated problem as that which I was now trying so vigorously to solve. I loved Elma Heath. The more I reflected, the deeper did her sweet countenance and tender grace impress themselves upon my heart. I loved her, therefore I was striving to overtake her. The steamer I learned would call at Hango and Helsingfors. Would they, I wonder, disembark at either of those places? Was the man whom I had known as Hornby, the owner of the Lola, taking her to place her again in the fiendish hands of Xavier Oberg, the very thought of it caused me to hold my breath. Daylight came at last, cold and gray, over those dreary interminable marches were game, especially Snite seemed abundant, and at a small station at the head of a lake called David's Stock, I took my morning glass of tea. Then we resumed our journey down to Vibeborg, where a short, thick-set Russian of the commercial class, but something of a dandy, entered my compartment, and we left Express for Petersburg. We had passed by a small station called Galat-Sina, near which were many villas occupied in summer by families from Petersburg, and were traveling through the dense, gloomy pine woods when my fellow traveler, having asked permission to smoke, commenced to chat affably. He seemed a pleasant fellow, and told me that he was a wool merchant, and that he had been having a pleasant vacation trout fishing in Novosti above the falls of Amatra, where the pools between the rapids abound with fish. He had told me that, on account of the shore being so full of weeds and the clearness of the water, fishing from the banks was almost an impossibility, and how they had to accustom themselves to troll from a boat so small as to only accommodate the rower and the fisherman. Then he remarked suddenly, You are English, I presume, possibly from Helsingfors. No, I answered, from a bow. I crossed from Stockholm, and am going to Petersburg. And I also, I live in Petersburg, he added. We may perhaps meet one day. Do you know the capital? I explained that I had visited it once before, and had done the usual round of sightseeing. His manner was brisk and to the point as became a man of business, but when we stopped at Beli Ostrov on the opposite side of the small winding river that separates Finland from Russia proper, the customs officer who came to examine our baggage exchanged a curious meaning look with him. My fellow traveler believed that I had not observed, yet keenly on the alert as I now was, I was shrewd to detect the least sign or look, and I at once resolved to tell the fellow nothing further of my own affairs. He was, no doubt, a spy of the stranglers, who had followed me all the way from a bow and had only entered my carriage for the final stage of the journey. This revelation caused me some uneasiness, for even though I was able to evade the man on arrival in Petersburg, he could, no doubt, quickly obtain news of my whereabouts from the police to whom my passport must be sent. I pretended to doze and lay back with my eyes half closed watching him. When he found me disinclined to talk further, he took up the paper he had bought and became engrossed in it, while I, on my part, endeavored to form some plan by which to mislead and escape his vigilance. The fellow meant mischief that I knew. If Elma was flying in secret and he watched me, he would know that she was in Petersburg. At all hazards for my love's sake, as well as for mine, I saw that I must escape him. The ingeniousness and cleverness of Oberg's spies was proverbial throughout Finland, therefore he might not be alone, or in any case on arrival in Petersburg would obtain assistance in keeping observation upon me. I knew that the Baron desired my death, and that therefore I could not be too wary of pitfalls. That fatal chair so cunningly prepared for me in Lambeth was still vividly within my memory. As we passed Lanskaya and ran through the outer suburbs of Petersburg, my fellow traveller became inquisitive as to where I was going, but I was somewhat unresponsive and busied myself with my bag until we entered the great echoing terminus whence I could see the neva gleaming in the pale sunlight and the city beyond. The fellow made no attempt to follow me, he was too clever a secret agent for that. He merely wished me drastudair, raised his hat politely, and disappeared. A quarter carried my bag out of the station, and I drove across the bridge to the large hotel where I had stopped before, the Europe, on the corner of the Nefsky Prospect and the Michael Street. There I engaged a front room looking down into the broad Nefsky, had a wash, and then watched at the window for the appearance of the spy. I had already a good four hours before the steamer from a bow was due, and I intended to satisfy myself whether or not I was being followed. Within twenty minutes the fellow lounged alongside the opposite side of the road, just as I had expected. He had changed his clothes and presented such a different appearance that at first sight I failed to recognize him. He knew that I had driven there and intended to follow me if I came forth. My position was one of extreme difficulty, for if I went down to the quay he would most certainly follow me. Having watched his movements for ten minutes or so, I descended to the big Salimoucher and there ate my luncheon, chatting to the French waiter the wild. I sat purposely in an alcove, so as to be away from the other people lunching there, and in order that I might be able to talk with the waiter without being overheard. Just as I had finished my meal and he was handing me my bill, I bent towards him and asked, Do you want to earn twenty roubles? Well, for sure, he answered, looking at me with some surprise. They would be acceptable. I am a married man. Well, I want to escape from this place without being observed. There is a disagreeable little matter regarding a lady, and I fear a fracas with a man who is awaiting me outside in the nefski. Then seeing that he hesitated, I assured him that I had committed no crime, and that I should return for my baggage that evening. You could pass through the kitchen and out by the servant's entrance, he said after a moment's reflection. If Mishur so desires, I will conduct him out. The exit is in the back street which leads on to the Catherine canal. Excellent, I said. Let us go. Of course, you will say nothing? Not a word, Mishur, and he gathered up the notes, plus twenty roubles with which I paid my bill, and, taking my hat, I followed him to the end de la Salle-Mochère behind a high wooden screen across the huge kitchen, and then through a long stone corridor at the end of which sat a gruff old doorkeeper. My guide spoke a word to him, and then the door opened, and I found myself in a narrow back slum with a canal beyond. My first visit was to a clothier's, where I purchased and put on a new light overcoat, and then to a hatter's for a hat of different shape to that I was wearing. I carried the hat back to a quiet alley which I had noticed and quickly exchanged the one I was wearing for it, leaving my old hat in a corner. Then I entered a café in order to wile away the hours until the vessel from Finland was due. At four o'clock I was out upon the quay, straining my eyes seaward for any sign of smoke, but could see nothing. The sun was sinking, and the broad expanse of water west were danced like liquid gold. The light died out slowly, the cold gray of evening crept on, a chill wind sprang up and swept the quay, causing me to shiver. I asked of a dock laborer whether the steamer was usually late, whereupon he told me that it was often five or six hours behind time, depending upon the delay at Helsingfors. Twilight deepened at night, and the rain fell heavily, yet I still paced the wet flags in patience, my eyes ever seaward for the light of the vessel which I hoped bore my love. My presence there aroused some speculation among the loungers, I think. Nevertheless, I waited in deepest anxiety whether, after all, Elma and Hornby had not disembarked at Helsingfors. Soon after ten o'clock a light shone afar off, and the movement of the police and porters on the quay told me that it was the vessel. Then after a further anxious quarter of an hour it came, amid great shouting and mutual implications, slowly alongside the quay, and the passengers at last began to disembark in the pelting rain. One after another they walked up the gangway, filing into the passport office and on into the custom house, people of all sorts and all grades, Swedes, Germans, Finns, and Russians, until suddenly I caught sight of two figures, one a man in a big tweed traveling coat and a golf cap, and the other the slight figure of a woman in a long dark cloak and a woollen tan motionter. The electric rays fell upon them as they came up the wet gangway together, and there once again I saw the sweet face of the silent woman whom I had grown to love with such fervent desperation. The man behind her was the same one who had entertained me on board the Lola, the man who was said to be the lover of the fugitive, Muriel Lythcourt. Without betraying my presence I watched them pass through the passport office and custom house, and then overhearing the address which Martin Woodruff gave the Istvassachik I stood aside, went to the skin, and saw them drive away. At eleven o'clock on the following day I found myself installed in the Hotel de Paris, a comfortable hostelory in the little Morskaya having succeeded in evading the vigilance of the spy who had so cleverly followed me from a bow, and in getting my suitcase round from the Hotel Europe. I was beneath the same roof as Elma, although she was in ignorance of my presence. Anxious to communicate with her without Woodruff's knowledge, I was now awaiting my opportunity. He had, it appeared, taken for her a pleasant front room with sitting room adjoining on the first floor, while he himself occupied a room on the third floor. The apartments he had engaged for her were the most expensive in the hotel, and as far as I could gather from the French waiter whom I judiciously tipped, he appeared to treat her with every consideration and kindness. Ah, poor lady, the man explained as he stood in my room answering my questions, what an affliction she writes down all her orders, for she can utter no word. Has the Englishman received any visitors? I asked. One man, a Russian, an official of police, I think. If he receives anyone else, let me know, I said, and I want you to give Mademoiselle a letter from me, in secret, via Nussure. I turned to the little writing table and scribbled a few hasty lines to my love, announcing my presence and asking her to grant me an interview in secret as soon as Woodruff was absent. I also warned her of the search for her instigated by the Baron and urged her to send me a line in reply. The note was delivered into her hand, but although I waited in suspense nearly all day, she sent no reply. While Woodruff was in the hotel, I dared not show myself lest he should recognize me, therefore I was compelled to sham in disposition and to eat my meals alone in my room. Both the means by which she had met Martin Woodruff and the motive were equally an enigma. By that letter she had written to her school fellow, it was apparent that she had some secret of his, for had she not wished to send him a message of reassurance that she had divulged nothing? This would seem that they were close friends, yet, on the other hand, something seemed to me that he was acting falsely and was really an ally of the Barons. Why had he brought her to Petersburg? If he had desired to rescue her, he would have taken her in the opposite direction to Stockholm where she would be free, whereas he took her and escaped prisoner into the very midst of peril. It was true that her passport was in order, yet I remembered that an order had been issued for her transportation to Sakhelian, and now once arrested she must be lost to me forever. This thought filled me with fierce anxiety. She was in Petersburg, that city where police spies swarm, and where every fresh arrival is noted and his antecedents inquired into. No attempt had been made to disguise who she was, therefore before long the police would undoubtedly come and arrest her as the escaped criminal from Kajana. For several hours I sat at my window, watching the life and movement down in the street below. My mind full of wonder and dark forebodings was Martin Woodruff playing her false. Just after half past six o'clock the waiter entered and handing me a note on a salver said, Mademoiselle has, I believe, only this moment been able to write in secret. I tore it open and read as follows. Dear friend, I am so surprised. I thought you were still in a bow. Woodruff has an appointment at eight o'clock on the other side of the city, therefore come to me at eight fifteen. I must see you and at once. I am in peril, Elma Heath. My love was in peril. It was just as I had feared. I thanked Providence that I had been sent to help her and extricate her from that awful fate to which the strangler of Finland had consigned her. At the hour she named after the waiter had come to me and announced the Englishman's departure, I descended to her sitting-room and entered without wrapping, for if I had wrapped she could not, alas, have heard. The apartment was spacious and comfortable, thickly carpeted, with heavy furniture and gilding. Before the long window were drawn curtains of dark green plush, and on one side was the high stove of white porcelain with shining brass bands, while from her low lounge chair a slim wand figure sprang up quickly and came forward to greet me, holding out both her hands and smiling happily. I took her hands in mine and held them tightly in silence for some moments, as I looked earnestly into those wonderfully brilliant eyes of hers. She turned away, laughing, a slight flush rising to her cheeks in her confusion. Then she led me to a chair and motioned me to be seated. Ours was a silent meeting, but her gestures and the expression of her eyes were surely more eloquent than mere words. I knew well what pleasure that re-encounter caused her. Equal pleasure with that it gave to me. Until that moment I had never really loved. I had admired and flirted with women, what man has not. Indeed I had admired Murial Lifecourt. But never until now had I experienced in my heart the real flame of true burning affection. The sweetness of her expression, the tender caress of those soft tapering hands, the deep mysterious look in those magnificent eyes, and the incomparable grace of all her movements combine to render her the most perfect woman I had ever met. Perfect in all alas, save speech and hearing, of which with such dastard wantonness she have been deprived. She touched her red lips with the tip of her forefinger, opened her hands, and shrugged her shoulders with a sad gesture of regret. Then, turning quickly to some paper on the little table at her side, she wrote something with a gold pencil and handed it to me. It read, Surely Providence has sent you here. Mr. Woodruff must have followed you from England. He is my enemy. You must take me from here and hide me. They intend to send me into exile. Have you ever been in Petersburg before? Do you know anyone here? Then, when I had read, she handed me her pencil and below I wrote, I will do my best, dear friend. I have been once in Petersburg. But is it not possible that we should escape at once from Russia? Impossible, she wrote. We should both be arrested at the frontier. It would be best to go into hiding here in Petersburg. I believed Woodruff to be my friend. But I have found only this day that he is my enemy. He knew that I was in Kijana, and was in a bow when he learned of my escape. He went with two other men in search of us, and discovered us that night when we sought shelter at the woodcutter's hut. Without making his presence known, he waited outside until you were asleep. Then he came and looked in at my window. At first I was alarmed, but quickly I saw that he was a friend. He told me that the police were in the vicinity, and intended to raid the hut. Therefore I fled with him, first down to the Tamafors, and then to a bow, and on here. At that time I did not see the dastardly trap he had laid in order to get me out of the Baron's clutches and ring from me my secret. If I confess, he intends to give me up to the police, who will send me to the mines. Does your secret concern him? I asked in writing. Yes, she wrote in response. It would be equally in his interest as well as those of Baron Oberd if I were sent to Sughelyan, and my identity effaced. I am a Russian subject, as I have already told you. Therefore, with a ministerial order against me, I am in deadliest peril. Trust in me, I scribbled quickly. I will act upon any suggestion you make. Have you any female friend in whom you could trust to hide you until this danger is passed? There is one friend, a true friend. Will you take a note to her? She wrote to which I instantly nodded in the affirmative. Then, rising, she obtained some ink and pen and wrote a letter, the contents of which she did not show me before she sealed it. I sat, watching her beautiful head bent beneath the shaded lamp-light, catching her profile, and noticing how eminently handsome it was, superb and unblemished in her youthful womanhood. I watched her write the superscription upon the envelope, Madam Olga Strasilevi, Modesta, Skredna, Prospect 231, Vassily, Ostrov. I knew that the district was on the opposite side of the city, close to the little Niva. Take Adroski at once, see her, and await a reply. In the meantime, I will prepare to be ready when you return, she wrote. If Olga is not at home, ask to see the Red Priest in Russian, Krasnipostor, return quickly as I fear Woodruff may come back. If so, I am lost. I assured her I would not lose a single instant, and five minutes later I was tearing down the Moiskia in Adroski along the canal and across the Nicholas Bridge to the address upon the envelope. The house was, I found, somewhat smaller than its neighbors, but not let out in flats as the other. Upon the door was a large brass plate bearing the name Olga Strasilevi, Modesta. I pressed the electric button, and in answer a tall, clean-shaven Russian servant opened the door. Madam is not at home, was his brief reply to my inquiry. Then I will see the Red Priest, I said in a lower tone. I come from Elma Heath. Thereupon, without further word, the man admitted me into the long, dark hall, and closed the door with an apology that the gas was not lighted, but striking a match he led me up the broad staircase and into a small, cozy, well-furnished room on the second floor. Evidently the sitting room of some studious person, judging from the books and critical reviews lying about. For a few minutes I waited there until the door reopened, and there entered a man of medium height with a shock of long, snow-white hair, an almost patriarchal beard, whose dark eyes that age had dimmed flashed out at me with a look of curious inquiry, and whose movements were those of a person not quite at his ease. I have called on behalf of Mademoiselle Elma Heath to give this letter to Madam Strasilevi, for if she is absent to place it in the hands of the Red Priest, I explained in my best Russian. Very well, sir, the old man responded in quite good English. I am the person you seek, and taking the letter he opened it and read it through. I saw by the expression on his furrowed face that its contents caused him the utmost consternation. His countenance already pale, blanched to the lips, while in his eyes there shot a fire of quick apprehension. The thin, almost transparent hand holding the letter trembled visibly. You know Mademoiselle, eh? He asked in a hoarse, strained voice as he turned to me. You will help her to escape? I will risk my own life in order to save hers, I declared. And your devotion to her is prompted by what he inquired suspiciously. I was silent for a moment, then I confessed the truth. My affection. Ah, he sighed deeply. Poor young lady, she who has enemies on every hand, sadly needs a friend. But can we trust you? Have you no fear? Of what? Of being implicated in the coming revolution in Russia. Remember, I am the Red Priest. Have you never heard of me? My name is Otto Kampf. Otto Kampf? I stood before him open mouth, who in Russia had not heard of that mysterious, unknown person who had directed a hundred conspiracies against the imperial autocrat, and yet the identity of whom the police had always failed to discover. It was believed that Kampf had once been professor of chemistry at Moscow University, and that he had invented that most terrible and destructive explosive used by the revolutionist. The ingredients of the powerful compound, and the mode of firing it was the secret of the nihilist alone, and Otto Kampf, the mysterious leader, whose personality was unknown even to the conspirators themselves, directed those constant attempts which held the emperor and his government in such hourly terror. Rewards without number had been offered by the Ministry of the Interior for the betrayal and arrest of the unseen man whose power in Russia, permeating every class, was greater than that of the emperor himself. At whose word one day the people would rise in a body and destroy their oppressors. The emperor, the ministers, the police, and the bureaucrats knew this, yet they were powerless. They knew that the mysterious professor who had disappeared from Moscow fifteen years before and had never since been seen was only waiting his opportunity to strike a blow that would stagger and crush the empire from end to end. Yet of his whereabouts they were in utter ignorance. You are surprised, the old man laughed, noticing my amazement. Well, you are not one of us, yet I need not impress upon you the absolute necessity for Mademoiselle's sake to preserve the secret of my existence. It is because you aren't not a member of the will of the people that you have never heard of the Red Priest, red because I wrote my ultimatum to the Tsar in the blood of one of his victims, knotted in the fortress of Peter and Paul, and priest because I preach the gospel of freedom and justice. I shall say nothing, I said, gazing at the strangely striking figure before me, the unknown man who directed the great upheaval that was to revolutionize Russia. My only desire is to save Mademoiselle Heath, and you are prepared to do so at risk of your own liberty, your own life. Ah, you said you love her. Would not this be a test of your affection? I am prepared for any test, as long as she escapes the trap which her enemies have set for her. I succeeded in saving her from Gajana, and I intend to save her now. Was it you who actually entered Gajana and snatched her from that tomb, he explained, and he took my hand enthusiastically, adding, I have no further need to doubt you. And turning to the table he wrote an address upon a slip of paper, saying, take Mademoiselle there, she will find a safe place of concealment, but go quickly, for every moment places you both in more deadly peril. Hide yourself there also. I thanked him and left it once, but as I stepped out of the house and re-entered the drusky I saw close by, lurking in the shadow, the spy of the strangler of Finland who had traveled with me from a bow, our eyes met, and he recognized me, notwithstanding my light overcoat and new hat. Then, with heart sinking, the ghastly truth flashed upon me. All had been in vain. Elma was lost to me.