s assumed character. "And I have
learned much since. There is to be a meeting to-night, and if things are
as I suspect she will be brought before the tribunal. We must save her
if we can. Will you come? To say it will be at the risk of your life is
to put it mildly. It will be a forlorn hope."

"I'll come; tell me how," I said.

"You will go to the place where you met Mishka to-day, dine there, and
change your clothes. They will have some for you, and you need not use
the formula. They expect you already; I knew you would come! Mishka will
join you, and will accompany you to the rank where I shall be waiting
with my droshky. You will hire me in the usual way; and we will tell you
my plans when we are clear of the city. Have you any weapon?"

"No."

He felt in an inner pocket of his filthy greatcoat and brought out a
revolver and a handful of spare cartridges.

"It's loaded; you can have these, too, though if there's any shooting I
doubt if you'll have the chance of reloading. Let's hope you won't fall
in with the police for the third time to-day! Mishka will join you
between nine and ten. We need not start till then,--these light nights
are a drawback, but that cannot be helped. The meeting will be held as
usual, after midnight. That is all now. I must not stay longer. Give me
the note you spoke of. A blank sheet--anything--I will destroy it
immediately."

I put a sheet of note-paper into an envelope, and addressed it to
Lieutenant Mirakoff at his barracks. His was the first name that
occurred to me.

"You know him?" he asked, pointing to the name.

"Very slightly."

He nodded and picked up the note, holding it carefully by one corner
between his filthy thumb and finger.

I unlocked the door as quietly as I had locked it, and a moment later he
opened it noisily and backed out, growling guttural and surly thanks;
backed right up against the servant, who, as we both guessed, was
waiting just outside. Even I was surprised at the altercation that
followed. A Russian droshky driver has a bigger command of bad language
than any other cabby in the world, and the Grand Duke Loris had
evidently studied his part from life. He was letter perfect in it!

I strode to the door and flung it open.

"Here, stop that!" I shouted. "Be off with you, Ivan; you impudent
rascal!"

He leered at me and shambled off, but I could hear the coarse voice
growling ribaldries all the way down the staircase.

It was a masterpiece of