went meekly to the big house in Kensington, tenanted by the two
dear old maids who were prepared to mother her, as much for her own
sweet ways as from their ardent admiration for the compelling
Salmoros, who had been a bosom friend of their father.

"Two or three months and I shall be back again!" sighed Corsini as he
settled himself in the train. Little could he guess what the future
would unfold as he made this confident prediction.

CHAPTER IX

Weary and worn with his long journey, Nello dismounted at the little
wayside station about thirty miles from St. Petersburg. All passengers
were peremptorily ordered to alight. Presently he learned that there
had been a slight railway accident in front, and that he might have to
wait two or three hours before he could get on to the capital.

He walked in the direction of the little village. There was evidently
a great stir taking place in this ordinarily quiet neighbourhood.
Mounted soldiers were drawn up before the old posting-inn.

Nello happened to get hold of a man who could speak a little French,
in a halting, but intelligent way.

"Quite a commotion for such a tranquil spot. What is it that is on the
_tapis_?" inquired Corsini.

The man explained in his slow French. "Something out of the usual,
Monsieur. Have you ever heard of a terrible fellow, one Ivan,
nicknamed 'The Cuckoo'?"

No, Nello had never heard of him. "Is he a very formidable personage
this 'Ivan the Cuckoo,' then?"

The man explained elaborately that Ivan was a much-feared outlaw, that
he was in the vicinity with a gang of desperadoes and assassins. He
was a convict who had escaped from the mines of Siberia, and had
gathered round him a band of miscreants as desperate as himself, and
as careless of consequences. They had lived by preying on the peasants
and stray travellers.

"The police are endeavouring to block the roads, so that, in
desperation, he and his associates may be driven into the village and
captured," concluded the man who had volunteered the explanation in
his halting French.

Corsini thanked him, and strolled along down the straggling village
street. What was he to do till the railway service was restored? The
village inn was open, where, if he pleased, he could go and saturate
himself with vodka or some other potent spirit; but the young man had
the abstemiousness of the Latin races. He did not want to amuse
himself in this fashion.

He would take a little stroll. O