y the facts before us. But in a few
days at the latest I hope your trouble will be at an end. You have
powerful friends, Monsieur."

"The British Embassy, I suppose?" said Hyde, complacently.

"Yes; and his Imperial Majesty has deigned to go personally into your
case."

"Then I can wait events calmly and without fear."

Presently, when Hyde had been removed, Ledantec was introduced, and
was received with the brutal harshness which was the judge's habitual
manner towards prisoners.

"Your name, profession, address?" he asked abruptly.

"Silas Hobson, an English journalist, residing in Duke Street, St.
James's, London."

"It is false! You have no right to the name of Hobson. You are not an
Englishman. You may reside in London, but it is only temporarily."

"Who am I then?" asked Ledantec with a sneer.

"In Paris, at your last visit, you passed as Hippolyte Ledantec, but
your real name is Serge Michaelovitch Vasilenikoff. You are a Russian
by birth, by profession a gambler, a blackleg, a cheat."

Ledantec, as I shall still call him, merely shrugged his shoulders in
sarcastic helplessness at this abuse.

"You are worse. You are a spy in the service of the enemies of the
State; an unconvicted murderer--"

He bent his eyes upon the prisoner with a piercing gaze, to watch the
effect of this accusation.

Ledantec never blenched, and the judge presently continued--

"You are the real author of the crime in Tinplate Street."

"M. Rupert Gascoigne is your informant, I presume," said Ledantec
sneering; "it is easy to rebut a charge by throwing it on another. But
you are too clever, M. le Juge, to be imposed upon."

"You at least cannot hoodwink me. We have the fullest evidence, let me
tell you, of the crime--all the crimes--laid to your charge. Your
accomplice has confessed."

This was said to try the prisoner, and it succeeded, for he started
slightly at the word "crimes."

"Accomplice! Of whom do you speak?"

"There is a woman in custody who has been associated with you for
years. It was she who instigated you to the robbery and murder of the
Baron d'Enot. She joined you when you fled from the gambling-den in
Tinplate Street, and shared your flight from Paris. She was with you
in St. Petersburg till you separated after a violent quarrel--"

"The blame was hers," interrupted Ledantec.

"Possibly, but you were equally to blame. In any case she left you to
shift for herself. She entered a great English fam