solve in tears. Then he recovered himself, and his voice
rang out, clear and firm.

"And, at last, Signor, I shall have revenge on those who wronged me
and my family."

"Say rather, Ivan, justice, not revenge," interrupted the young
Italian mildly.

"It is the same, Signor, is it not?" cried Ivan. He pointed with his
finger to an inert figure in the corner of the room, apparently
inanimate.

"That is Stepan. I have given him a narcotic in order to prevent
accidents. He does not look at his best at the moment. But just go and
have a peep at him and see the likeness to yourself."

Corsini crossed over the small room and looked at the prostrate form,
of the man, wrapped in a deep slumber, and breathing heavily. Yes,
Stepan might have been his twin brother under normal conditions.

"The time is short," said the outlaw. "We must make you look as like
Stepan as possible, with regard to the externals."

He went to the door and whistled softly. A small, slouching man
answered to the summons.

"Paul, my friend," said Ivan in an imperious tone, "I have told you
something of this affair. You have got to convert this gentleman into
the speaking likeness of our sleeping friend. Do your little tricks at
once."

The small, slouching man went to work immediately. He stripped off the
rough clothes from the slumbering man in the corner, and signalled to
Corsini to divest himself of his own garments. In a trice, Corsini was
dressed in Stepan's habiliments. He then proceeded to stain his face
and hands.

When all this was finished, he drew back with a sense of pardonable
pride in his own deft handiwork.

"_Mon Dieu!_ it is Stepan himself," he cried enthusiastically.

Corsini took a survey of himself in a small, cracked mirror that hung
in the shabby sitting-room. He cast a further glance at the inert form
lying in the corner. Yes, in these rough clothes, with his face and
hands stained, he could well pass for Stepan himself in a dim and
doubtful light.

"It is just about time," said Ivan, when these preparations had been
completed. "My friend Paul will conduct you to the villa. There are
seven windows on the ground floor, built very high. Underneath the
fourth window the blank wall is of wood. You can feel it. There is a
small door with a keyhole in the centre. Here is the key. Paul knows
it well; he will lead you to it."

The small slouching man led Corsini to the villa of Madame Quero. The
four silent men followed in