onment; but I could not be criticised
for that, for they one and all deserved to go. I was yet to meet with
an adventure before I returned to the emperor, however.

After leaving Canfield I sought an interview with O'Malley. I found
that without going out of my way, I could pass the residence of the
prince, where I believed Zara to be peacefully sleeping, for I knew
that Durnief must have suffered arrest before there was opportunity for
him to carry out the czar's order. I had taken the precaution to
instruct Coyle, early in the evening, to place a good watch on the
house, fearing there might be a chance that one of the spies of the
nihilists had succeeded in following us, and that they might attempt an
attack upon her, there. Of Durnief, I had not thought again, for when
the czar told me that he had been sent after the princess, I had every
confidence that the man would be arrested before he could gain
admittance to Zara's presence. Later, at Canfield's office, I had
received the report that he had been taken.

It was just breaking day as I approached the house, and I could see
that a light was burning in the room where I had left her. I decided at
once that she had determined to remain in that room, and had probably
not thought of retiring. I could not criticise such a reluctance, under
the circumstances; and while I was congratulating myself upon the fact
that she would not have to pass such another night as this one, I saw
the front door swing suddenly open, and the form of a woman in whom I
instantly recognized Zara, ran down the steps and leaped into a waiting
_droshka_, which had hitherto escaped my notice. Instantly the horses
started away at a gallop. I was two hundred feet distant. There was not
a person in sight, for Coyle, believing, doubtless, that all danger was
past, had withdrawn his guard.

There are times in our lives when peril, in threatening a loved one,
brings out the best there is in a man, and renders him suddenly capable
of coping with any emergency. I knew of but one way to stop those
horses, and I used it. Always a good shot, I drew my revolver, aimed it
at the nearest horse, and pulled the trigger. Then, before the sound of
the first report had lost itself along the street, I fired again. One
of the horses pitched forward, shot through the brain, I knew; the
other fell upon the first, and I ran forward at all speed, towards the
wrecked and overturned _droshka_.

CHAPTER XXII

THE