r and the fisherman.

Then he remarked suddenly--

"You are English, I presume--possibly from Helsingfors?"

"No," I answered. "From Abo. I crossed from Stockholm, and am going to
Petersburg."

"And I also. I live in Petersburg," he added. "We may perhaps meet one
day. Do you know the capital?"

I explained that I had visited it once before, and had done the usual
round of sight-seeing. His manner was brisk and to the point, as became
a man of business, but when we stopped at Bele-Ostrof, on the opposite
side of the small winding river that separates Finland from Russia
proper, the Customs officer who came to examine our baggage exchanged a
curious meaning look with him.

My fellow-traveler believed that I had not observed, yet, keenly on the
alert as I now was, I was shrewd to detect the least sign or look, and I
at once resolved to tell the fellow nothing further of my own affairs.
He was, no doubt, a spy of "The Strangler's," who had followed me all
the way from Abo, and had only entered my carriage for the final stage
of the journey.

This revelation caused me some uneasiness, for even though I was able to
evade the man on arrival in Petersburg, he could no doubt quickly obtain
news of my whereabouts from the police to whom my passport must be sent.
I pretended to doze, and lay back with my eyes half-closed watching him.
When he found me disinclined to talk further, he took up the paper he
had bought and became engrossed in it, while I, on my part, endeavored
to form some plan by which to mislead and escape his vigilance.

The fellow meant mischief--that I knew. If Elma was flying in secret and
he watched me, he would know that she was in Petersburg. At all hazards,
for my love's sake as well as for mine, I saw that I must escape him.
The ingeniousness and cleverness of Oberg's spies was proverbial
throughout Finland, therefore he might not be alone, or in any case, on
arrival in Petersburg would obtain assistance in keeping observation
upon me. I knew that the Baron desired my death, and that therefore I
could not be too wary of pitfalls. That fatal chair so cunningly
prepared for me in Lambeth was still vividly within my memory.

As we passed Lanskaya, and ran through the outer suburbs of Petersburg,
my fellow-traveler became inquisitive as to where I was going, but I was
somewhat unresponsive, and busied myself with my bag until we entered
the great echoing terminus whence I could see the Neva gleaming