cible with
the blue flame on their faces.

They had not slept.

Madame Vasselitch spoke.

"He has seen Olga," she said. "It is to-day."

"We are too late," said Halfoff, and he groaned.

"Courage, brother," said Kwitoff. "She will not die till
sunrise. It is twilight now. We have still an hour. Let
us to work."

Serge looked at the brothers.

"Tell me," he said. "I do not understand."

Halfoff turned a moment from his work and looked at Serge.

"Brother," he said, "will you give your life?"

"Is it for Olga?" asked Serge.

"It is for her."

"I give it gladly," said Serge.

"Listen then," said Halfoff. "Our sister is condemned
for the killing of Popoff, inspector of police. She is
in the prison of the condemned, the house of the dead,
across the street. Her cell is there beside us. There is
only a wall between. Look--"

Halfoff as he spoke threw aside a curtain that hung across
the end of the room. Serge looked into blackness. It was
a tunnel.

"It leads to the wall of her cell," said Halfoff. "We
are close against the wall but we cannot shatter it. We
are working to make a bomb. No bomb that we can make is
hard enough. We can only try once. If it fails the noise
would ruin us. There is no second chance. We try our
bombs in the crucible. They crumble. They have no strength.
We are ignorant. We are only learning. We studied it in
the books, the forbidden books. It took a month to learn
to set the wires to fire the bomb. The tunnel was there.
We did not have to dig it. It was for my father, Vangorod
Vasselitch. He would not let them use it. He tapped a
message through the wall, 'Keep it for a greater need.'
Now it is his daughter that is there."

Halfoff paused. He was panting and his chest heaved.
There was perspiration on his face and his black hair
was wet.

"Courage, little brother," said Kwitoff. "She shall not
die."

"Listen," went on Halfoff. "The bomb is made. It is there
beside the crucible. It has power in it to shatter the
prison. But the wires are wrong. They do not work. There
is no current in them. Something is wrong. We cannot
explode the bomb."

"Courage, courage," said Kwitoff, and his hands were busy
among the wires before him. "I am working still."

Serge looked at the brothers.

"Is that the bomb?" he said, pointing at a great ball of
metal that lay beside the crucible.

"It is," said Halfoff.

"And the little fuse that is in the side of it fires it?
And the curre