more than the unquestioning obedience old Vladimir yielded to him. More
than ever before, he realized that the Suvaroffs must indeed be as great
a family as his mother had declared. Though she had become a true
American, Mrs. Waring had never ceased to love the land of her birth,
and she had always tried to impress Fred with her own feeling for the
great house to which she had belonged.

"Such families as the Suvaroffs can do much harm to themselves and to
others," she had said. "But they can also be of great service to those
of their blood, to those who are dependent upon them, and to their
country."

The truth of this was constantly being impressed anew upon Fred at this
time. He was struck especially by the difference between the way that
the people of this house treated Boris and himself, and the attitude
that had been noticeable in those who had served his uncle, Mikail
Suvaroff. Mikail was decidedly a greater figure than Boris's father. Yet
it was not devotion that he seemed to inspire. He won obedience, not
because his people were devoted to him, but because he had filled them
with fear, and because they knew the consequences that would certainly
follow if he were displeased in any way.

It was still light when Fred left the house. He went out by a side
entrance, reaching the road from the garden. Vladimir had gone down the
hill before him. It was understood that he would manufacture some errand
as an excuse for his appearance in the village. A number of the people
of the village were in the road near the great house; they stared at it
curiously, and with hostile murmurs. They paid no attention to Fred,
however, and this convinced him that his disguise was good. He passed
near them, and he breathed more freely when he had gone by.

At the foot of the hill he turned away from the village. Here he
remembered something that both amused and annoyed him. He had not asked
just where the parsonage was. He knew its location with reference to the
outer portal of the tunnel, to be sure, but he had come to that
underground. However, he remembered where the sun had been when he had
emerged into the open air before, and, after some profitless scouting
about, a passing motorcycle set him on the right track. It set him
thinking, too.

"There are an awful lot of these fellows with dispatches running about,"
he said to himself. "It seems to me that this place is more than a
colonel's headquarters. A colonel has just one regi