and then the engine stopped.
It started again in a moment, but now the headlight was coming toward
him again! The car had been turned around. It was back, undoubtedly, to
look for him. Still he decided not to run, but to stay where he was,
though every instinct prompted him to take the chance of flight. That,
however, was pure panic, and he fought against the impulse.

The car came along slowly. He was not more than a hundred feet from the
road, and the headlight showed him the progress of the car. Its
blinding light, however, made it impossible for him to see the car
itself or its occupants. It gave them the advantage. Finally the car
stopped, and he groaned. It had stopped exactly opposite his
hiding-place! He had hoped that they would not be able to tell just
where he had left the road, but in a moment the explanation came to him.
He had trampled down the hedge in getting through, of course, and had
left a trail that a child might have followed.

Then the headlight was switched off, and for a moment he lost the car
altogether. His ears, rather than his eyes, told him that someone was
coming. He heard the breaking down of the hedge, and then footsteps
moving slowly, but coming closer. And in a moment he saw a little
stabbing ray of light that wandered back and forth. Whoever was stalking
him was evidently not afraid of him.

Suddenly he remembered his pistol, the one he had taken from Schmidt's
holster. He gripped it convulsively. After all, he was not as helpless
as he had believed. He waited. Should he risk all now, with a shot--a
shot that might warn this stalker off and give him another chance to
escape, even though there were others in the car? He drew out the
pistol, and cocked it. Then, at the faint sound, a voice called to him
out of the darkness.

"Do not fire! It is I--Ivan! Ivan Ivanovitch!"

For a moment Fred thought he was going to collapse, so great was the
relief and the slackening of tension. He did laugh out, but caught
himself at once.

"Ivan!" he said. "I thought it was a German officer! It is I, Ivan--Fred
Waring!"

"I knew it," said Ivan, coming up close. "I saw you for just a second as
your horse reared. It was just a flash of your face, but if I have ever
seen a face once, I never forget it. And you have the look of a Suvaroff
about you, even though you are different. I would have known you for one
of the breed had I met you anywhere in the world, had no one told me
who you were. And s