peasants?"

The miserable man fell at his feet. Nello, in the dim light, saw that
his face had gone livid.

"You have guessed, Monsieur. It is true. I am Ivan the outlaw. You
cannot appreciate the misery that drove me to this."

In a dim sort of way Nello understood. This man was an outlaw. Was it
not just a chance that he was not one himself? Many a night, as he had
played in the cold streets for a few miserable pence, he had passed
the flaring restaurants, the well-lighted shops, their windows full of
precious things to be coveted by the poor and hungry. He could not
deny that many a time he had railed at the world's injustice, that
criminal thoughts had surged through his half-maddened brain.

He thought of the saying of the old Quaker, whenever he heard of a
criminal on the road to death. "There, but for the grace of God, goes
myself."

Yes, but for the sudden intervention in the shape of good old Papa
Peron, he might have drifted into evil courses like the wretched
creature grovelling at his feet. It was not for him to judge.

He looked at him steadily, still keeping the pistol levelled at the
vital part, and repeated his question.

"What has become of your band of robbers and assassins?" he asked
sternly.

"Dispersed, Monsieur--dispersed, I give you my word. Yesterday we
learned that the soldiers and police were on our track, were preparing
to draw a cordon round us. It was a case of _sauve qui peut_, devil
take the hindmost. We agreed to separate. There were not more than
half a dozen of us, but our numbers have been exaggerated. We all
scattered in different directions. Somehow, I stumbled up here, and
you tell me the little village is astir."

"What is it you want of me?"

"Just a little money, Monsieur; just a little money to help me on my
way to St. Petersburg, where I shall find friends."

Nello looked at him suspiciously. "But why do you want money? It was
only yesterday that you heard the police were closing round you. You
have been robbing as you go. When you agreed to separate, no doubt you
divided the ready money."

"That is true, Monsieur; you are very clever," replied the grovelling
man in a fawning voice. "You will hardly believe me when I tell you,
but I swear it is true. Last night I slept in a little inn a few miles
from here. I had drunk heavily, I admit; I slept very soundly. When I
awoke in the morning every coin I possessed had been stolen from my
pockets. I, an old hand, blush