Verdayne was no coward--but his fingers closed instinctively on the
butt of the revolver that he had placed within easy reach. Puzzled, he
lay awake for a time in the darkness, but finally nothing further
happening, he fell asleep once more.

When he awoke the grey dawn was creeping into his windows and he rose
immediately, anxious to escape the eerie atmosphere of the house, and
begin the final stage of his journey. What an uncanny lot these
Russian beggars were, to be sure.

He determined to leave as unceremoniously as he had come, and wrote a
hasty note which he placed upon his dresser where it could easily be
seen. As he stole quietly down the long hall, in an attempt not to
awaken the household, he came suddenly upon Mademoiselle Ivanovitch
seated in a chair drawn into a windowed recess. She started as he came
upon her, but instantly recovered her calm poise of the evening
before.

Paul apologized for the stealthy manner of his leave-taking, pleading
the necessity of an early start.

She listened to him patiently, then glancing over her shoulder to see
that she was not observed, "Forgive my being so blunt," she said, "but
I think you are playing an exceedingly dangerous game. You have
nothing to gain and everything to lose."

Paul turned to her almost sharply and said: "Are you sure that I have
nothing to gain?"

She looked at him quickly, and her eyes were startled; the brilliant
colour had left her face. Then she caught the baronet by the coat.

"Sir Paul," she cried in a low voice, "you are a young man. Do not
destroy your life for a piece of folly. Cut yourself adrift from this
while there is still time. Turn back, and never come to this wicked
country again."

Paul took her hand and looked at her kindly. "Thank you, thank you
very much. But I am moved to go, my dear lady," he said.

She made no answer to Paul's calmly voiced determination, save a
despairing gesture, then turned silently away, and Paul, after a
moment, continued on his quiet departure. The faithful Baxter had
roused the driver in good season and was waiting at the steps as Paul
emerged from the door. If he, too, had had an interruption in his
slumbers, he gave no sign.

The driver, with an awkward jerk of his head, which Paul interpreted
as a salutation, whipped up the horses, and once more they were on
their way.

Not till Paul had ridden some distance did it strike him that the lady
of the copper coloured hair had used his rea