ul of anarchy in central
Russia:--especially the creature Petrovitch, or Lihnoff?"

Ivan gave a weary sigh. "Because I have been an unspeakable fool:
because I was tired; and had been working long, and hard. I chose some
new companions;--and now I find I entertained assassins unawares."

At this, the reflected gleam of a smile flickered across Michael's face.
His hands relaxed. "Tell me the story--all of it," he said. Nor would
the prisoners waiting for their comrade, nor yet the guards that
attended them, have believed their ears could they have heard the tone
of the tyrant's voice.

Without preface, and without apology, Ivan began his story, which he
told baldly, with harsh stress upon his own deliberate folly. Only one
omission did he make: and that was one demanded of him by the past.
Irina's name never appeared in the narrative; and, as he went on, the
hope that she might be successfully shielded throughout, grew large
within him. Again, however, he underrated the man to whom he spoke. He
had finished, and silence had reigned for perhaps ten seconds, when
Gregoriev said, a little impatiently:

"But the woman!--Lihnoff's sister, Irina, who has managed to get away
from my fools for the moment? Where is she, Ivan? You owe her one turn
for dragging you into your disgrace six years ago. Give me the
information, and--you shall go."

Ivan's lip curled. "Spy's wages!--I am no informer," he jerked out, his
heart sinking within him, nevertheless.

Gregoriev leaped to his feet in fury. Almost as quickly he was back in
his chair again. This conflict to retain his temper was so new to him
and his repeated outbreaks were so characteristic, that one might have
laughed had the situation been different. However, when he spoke again,
Michael's voice was quiet enough, though touched with irony:

"So--actually--you are in love with her still!"

"Neither now nor ever," Ivan answered, steady-eyed.

Michael, inwardly relieved, shrugged. "Where is she, Ivan?"

"Thank God, I don't know!"

"_Why_ don't you know?"

"Burevsky was shot with the name of the place on his lips--unspoken."

Michael's brows were drawn and frowning. "You swear ignorance?" he
demanded.

"So help me God."

"Humph!--Well, well,--it merely delays the affair a day or two. She's
known in every town in the Moscow district, and in every big city from
Odessa to Petersburg by this time.--Frontiers all waiting for her."

"Father!"

At the sudden title, Mi