me what you do. But if you won't give me
any money, kill me outright. I have not made such a success of life
that I am anxious to enjoy much more of it. Kill me, Monsieur, and
finish it once for all. The police will thank you for having got rid
of 'Ivan the Cuckoo.' They won't ask too many questions."

Nello thought for some little time. His thoughts went back to a very
miserable night, some six months ago. He had been playing in the
streets and had returned home with nothing. He owed the rent for the
miserable hovel in which they sheltered; they had no food.

He had looked his sister squarely in the face and had whispered the
question--"Is life worth living, Anita, under such conditions?" She
had returned his gaze with a face as white as his own, but she had not
faltered, as she replied, "Nello, I leave it in your hands." And,
thank Heaven, he had conquered that terrible fit of despair, to find,
later on, a new world opening to him.

He handed the wretched man a sum of money and spoke in very gentle
tones.

"God be good to you, my poor friend, and soften your heart. I know not
if the world has been too harsh to you, or you have too grievously
offended the world. Go in peace. I am not your judge, and I will not
be your executioner."

With a brief blessing, the outlaw took the money and slunk away in the
gathering darkness.

"I shall remember your face for ever," he whispered in farewell. "It
is not likely we shall ever meet again. But if we do and I can repay
my debt, I will, and with interest."

A few hours later Nello was in St. Petersburg. He put up at one of the
best hotels in the city, acting upon the instructions of Salmoros.
That gentleman had urged upon him the necessity of keeping up a good
appearance, and spending money lavishly, at any rate for the present.

That night he had confused dreams of his gentle little sister Anita,
the beautiful Princess Nada, and the rough outlaw whom he had saved
from justice.

Next morning he made his way to the British Embassy and inquired for
Lord Ickfold, mentioning that he had come on a special mission from
the Baron Salmoros. In a few moments he was shown into His
Excellency's presence.

Lord Ickfold was a handsome, presentable man of about sixty years of
age. Contrary to the fashion of the day, he was clean-shaven. Being a
widower, an unmarried daughter presided over the establishment. This
morning he was at a somewhat late _dejeuner_, alone.

He rose and s