t, and then, perceiving that he had allowed himself to be
"drawn," joined heartily in the laugh against himself. "Yes," he
continued, suddenly becoming grave again, "we must kidnap the count, for
two reasons; first, because it is necessary that we should obtain the
fullest and most complete information as to Colonel Sziszkinski's
whereabouts and movements; and, secondly, because it would not satisfy
me merely to release my friend. He has been beggared, rendered an
outlaw in his own country--to which it will be impossible for him ever
to return--and his career destroyed by this unscrupulous scoundrel,
Vasilovich; and justice cries aloud for the punishment of such
wickedness; therefore Vasilovich must be punished. Moreover, the
mysterious fate which I have in store for him may possibly exercise a
salutary influence upon such of his fellow scoundrels as happen to be
aware of the wrong that he has wrought upon poor Sziszkinski; for I will
make it a part of my business to leave behind me a statement to the
effect that Count Vasilovich has been `removed' as a punishment for his
conduct to Colonel Sziszkinski."
"That is all right; such a statement _may_ do good, while I cannot see
that it is likely to do any harm, so we will prepare a conspicuous
placard, worded to that effect, and will place it where it is certain
that it will be found," remarked Sir Reginald, cheerfully. "There is
one point, however, upon which I should like a little enlightenment,
Professor; and that is as to the course you propose to pursue in order
to obtain possession of Vasilovich's person in this awe-inspiringly
secret fashion."
"I do not anticipate much difficulty as to that," answered the
professor. "When I was in Saint Petersburg a year ago, Vasilovich held
a post of responsibility at the War Office, and it was his habit to ride
into Saint Petersburg from his chateau at Pargolovo in the morning, and
out again at night, arriving home about seven o'clock, in time for
dinner at eight. And I imagine we shall find that he does so still.
The chateau stands in a park of considerable extent, and is approached
by a drive nearly a mile and a half long, up which Vasilovich usually
rides at a foot-pace. Now, at this time of the year, it will be quite
dark in the park at seven o'clock, and nobody will then be likely to be
out about the demesne. I know the place well, and happen to be aware of
a spot, about midway between the chateau and the lodge gate
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