e us. Then it closed as
silently and as magically as it had opened, and I was led onward
through darkness that was absolute, through corridors and rooms, at
last emerging upon a dimly lighted hall, which seemed almost brilliant
by comparison. There we paused and waited.

"This does not seem like a prison," I said.

"No; but it has often led to one," he replied grimly. "One word of
advice to you before we proceed."

"I shall appreciate it. Heaven knows I need it."

"Do not on any account ask a single question during the experiences of
the next half hour. Forget that there is such a thing as an
interrogation. Perhaps, if you heed what I say, I may have the pleasure
of riding back to your hotel with you."

I did not have time to reply, for a door opened and we started forward
again, passing from room to room, each better lighted than the last,
until finally we entered one that was occupied. A man--a very large
man--was seated at a desk, and he raised his eyes as we entered his
presence. Never in my life was I so astonished as at that moment for I
recognized him at a glance.

I was in the presence of the czar.

There was a very good reason for my astonishment. I had gone to St.
Petersburg in the hope of obtaining an audience with the Emperor of all
the Russias, but I had anticipated some difficulty in securing it, nor
did I even wish for it in such a forcible and unsought manner. It was
because I desired to keep the object of my visit a close secret that I
had travelled incognito, and as I had imparted my secret to no living
human being, I was naturally astounded that my object should be so
quickly attained. A mental question shot through me in that instant
when I realized where I was: In what manner could any person have
learned of the true reason for my visit? and if it had not been learned
and transmitted to the czar, why was I conducted to the august
presence? At the same instant I comprehended that it would be the best
policy for me to appear not to know in whose presence I was, so I
simply inclined my head in the coldest bow I could master.

"You speak Russian?" he demanded imperiously, advancing a step towards
me.

"Perfectly," I replied.

"Your name!"

"Daniel Derrington." I purposely made my reply as curt as his question,
and I saw the shadow of a smile flit across his features. I knew then
that I had taken the right course with him.

"What is your nationality?"

"I am an American."

"Do you kno