IN THE NAME OF THE CZAR.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 30, Issue 16, 26 February 1918, Page 7

IN THE NAME OF THE CZAR.

(Copyright.)

By WILLIAM MURRAY GRAYDON, Author of "Vera Shamarin.” “The House of Orfanoff,” &c.

PART 2. It was past midnight when Alexis preceded his guests to the library, where they intended smoking a final cigar. Here an incident occurred that was remembered afterwards by at least one of the party. Oranbrook was seated beside a case of books. He reached out his arm and took one of the volumes. As he carelessly turned the leaves a white envelope fluttered to the floor. Alexis sprang forward and seized it eagerly. He turned it over, glanced .inside, and then dropped it contemptuously. “You’ve 'drawn a blank,” exclaimed (Tanbrook. “What did you expect to find ?”

“I will tell you,” replied Alexis, gravely, as he returned to his chair. “On his deathbed my father .informed me that I would find among his papas one of great importance. He said that it contained certain instructions r-.nd he made me promise to carry them out. But the paper was never found—none, at least, that answered to his description. Korfl, our family lawyer, knew nothing of it. Naturally I regard its loss as a serious matter. It probably contained some bequests that were not mentioned in the will, but was none the less .binding. I may be in possession of money to which I have uo right.” “That is likely the case,” said Craabrcok. "I appreciate your feelings, yet at the same time you can do nothing, since the paper is lost. I advice you to forget the matter.”

“I, too, have often told him that,” murmured Vassily. “Ho is not .to blame. There is no cause for selfreproach. 11 He yawned, and threw away his cigar. “Well, it is time to go,” hs added. “I am on guard duty in the morning.” The others rose also, and five minutes later Cranbrook and Vivian were narching along the quay arm-in-arm with the young Russian. Vivian’s headquarters were with a relative who was connected with the British Embassy. i At eleven o’clock on that same night Michael Korff sat in his office—a dingy second-floor room that overlooked the central part of the Nevski Prospekt. Michael Korff was a lawyer of large practice and renown. Estates and family affairs were his specialty. He was a Russian edition of Mr. Tulkinghdrn. His appearance was eminently staid and respectable. He looked like a man who could keep a secret and give weighty counsels. He was about fifty years of age, and thin, with keen eyes and sharp features.

To-night the lawyer flat in an easy chair between an open safe and a broad table. The former contained an array of tin boxes, on which were stamped the names of more than one illustrious client.

Michael Korff opened a secret- drawer in the safe and took therefrom a folded paper, on which was written, in a legible hand, “For my son Alexis.” He unfolded it, and glanced long and earnestly at the contents. Finally he restored it to its place, closed the safe, and leaned forward in his chair, with his chin propped on one hand. His lips were grimly compressed and his eyes had a vacant stare.

“There is only one course open,'’’ he said tu himself. “I have held this document for six long years, and more than once I wae on the point of restoring it to its owner. Now it is too late. I must unearth the secret. The task is stupendous and the clue but slight. I have a year’s grace—possibly two. In that period I must succeed. If I fail lam ruined. My losses from cards and speculations aggregate a fortune alone. It will take a tremendous sum to place me bn my feet.”

The lawyer rose to his feet with sudden decision. *

“To-morrow I will begin the task,” he muttered. “The best detective talent in the city shall be at my command.”

He extinguished the lamp, locked the door, and made his way down stairs to the street.

CHAPTER IV. The residence ot General Armfeldt stood in a quiet street not far from the Admiralty-square, It was not an imposing house, for it had been in possession of the family since early in the century. But inside, at least, its fittings were quite in 'accord '.vith the most costly of prevalent stylos and luxuries.

A week had gone by sine,:, Count Nordhoff’s dinner party. It was t!r.. 1 evening of February 10 and of the Court ball. From early morning the messengers of the Imperial household had been riding to and fro through the city delivering invitations to the chosen ones. These invitations were really commands. They took precedence of everything else. Among 1 the invited were Captain Armfeldt, and sis sister, Count Nordhoff, Granbrook, and Vivian. It was through the Count’s influence that the two latter had been thus honoured. Between five and six o’clock Helen Armfeldt stood at a front window of her home, looking down upon the dark street, whose gloom was scarcely relieved by the widely-scattered lamp-posts. It was small wonder that Count Nordhoff boasted of the happinest in store for him, Helen Armfeldt possessed a beauty of face and form and a charm of manner that had cut deep into many hearts. Che was alone in the house, except for the servants. Her parents were

in Moscow, wncre tne general Baa been unexpectedly summoned on official business. Vassily was to be her escort to the ball. As yet he had not returned from his post of duty at the Annitchkofi Palace, but she expected bin l , every moment. She felt vaguely uneasy. It was time for her to dress yet she remained by the window, lis-teni-g to the infrequent footsteps on the pavement below.

“Vassily has been detained,” she murmured. “I dare not delay longer. I must be jeady for him, for possibly he will dress at his club.” A moment before a covered sleigh, unaccompanied by the music of bells, had drawn up before the house. Now a rap was heard on the door connecting with the hall. Helen crossed the room and opened it, expecting to see her brother. A servant stood before her.

“What is it, Yuri Popovitch ?” she asked. “A letter for you. The messefiger waits.” He handed her a sealed envelope. The girl tore it open, and her face paled as she read the brief but startling message that was inside : My Darling.—l have been thrown from my horse and injured—how seriously I do not know. The doctor is uncertain. Can you come in haste? I implore you to do so. Trust yourself to my messenger. I can write no more. ALEXIS.

“I must go to him at once,” she cried. “Marpha,” she added, aloud, “bid the messenger wait. I will be therein a moment.”

She crossed the hall and vanished in a room on the opposite side. The maid obediently hastened down stairs.

A second or two later Yuri popovitch, the servant who had brought the note, slipped from behind a pair of curtains at the end of the hall, and' darted into Helen’s dressingroom. When he reissued two minutes afterwards, his crafty face wore a strange look of satisfaction. With a cat-like tread he descended the staircase.

Meanwhile, Helen had scribbled a hasty note and pinned it to the glass on Vassily’s dressing-room. She hurried back to her own boudoir and threw a fur pelisse over the streetgown that she still wore. She did not observe that the note was missing from behind the chair.

A moment later die bounded into the sleigh. The door was instantly slammed shut. The horses sped over the frozen streets. Corner after cosner was quickly turned, until the backward way was lost in a bewildering maze. To Helen the journey seemed interminably long. She rubbed the frost from the window and looked out. The sleigh was speeding across the frozen Neva on a massive bridge—which one she could not distinguish. A little later the scene changed to a network of gloomy and squalid streets. Here and there a poorly-lighted shop window flashed briefly on some haggard woman or coarsely-clad artisan. “What could have taken Alexis to such a quarter of the city ?” As the puzzling query rose to the girl’s lips the sleigh rocked sharply round a corner and glided down a street that was even darker and dingier than its predecessors. It was partially lined with warehouses, in front of which were stacks of boxes and barrels. Not a ray of light streamed through the tightly-closed shutters. To all appearances the building was deserted. The driver quickly assisted Helen to the pavement.

“This is the place,” he whispered. “Pull the bell, and some one will conduct you to the count. Take this. It will be necessary to show it.” He slipped a card into her band. Then, to her amazement, he glanced sharply round, sprang to the seat, and drove off at full speed. ‘

The sleigh had vanished In the gloom before the door was opened. A tall, powerfully-built man stood before her. She banded him the card. He conducted her down a long, narrow hall; at the extreme end of which was a dimly-lighted room. Five men and two women were seated round a table that was littered with books, papers, and writing materials. A tall, bearded man approached Helen, but before a word had been spoken a mighty crash was heard at the front of the house, and in another instant a dozen armed men surged down the hall. Above the clamour of invaders and invaded rang a clear and powerful voice :

“Surrender in the name of the Czar !’’

Stupefied with horror, the hapless girl shrank back against tbs wall as the rush swept partially by her. She witnessed the brief scuffle in the lighted room, heard the shrill crack of weapons, the screams of women, and the hoarse imprecations of desperate men.

CHAPTER V. It was close upon eight o’clock when Captain Vassily Armfeldt reached home. His state of mind was far from serene. Just before leaving the Annitchkof! Palace, a note had been handed to him. It was from a friend, and requested an urgent interview at the Naval Club. He had driven there, at loss of valuable time, only to find that his friend was missing, and that- he bad not been in the building that evening. Vassily had but a scant half-hour in which to dress and present himself at the hall. He hastened into his room, and here the note immediately caught his attention. He read it at a glance. It was brief and unsatisfactory. Dear Vassily ,—Alexis has met with an accident, and has sent for me. I will send you word of his condition as soon as possible. You must go to the ball alone. HELEN. He hastily summoned the servants and questioned them. From Helen’s

mala ana Turi Popovitch fie gleanea little more than he already knew. He impatiently dismissed them, and put himself in the hands of his valet. With a heavy heart that was strangely out of accord with the glory and splendour of his umiform he sprang into his sleigh and was whirled swiftly over the frozen snow. He had scarcely reached the corner when three stern-viaaged men, muffled in blue cloaks, crossed from the deep shadows on the opposite side of the street and mounted the steps of the mansion.

The ball was at its height. Count Nordhoff had been vainly searching for Helen and her brother. His face wore an anxious look. He had sought everywhere among the crowd for them when he suddenly came upon Captain Armfeldt leaning, in dejected and melancholy mood, against a marble pillar.

Vassily stared as though ho could not credit his eyes. “Alexis !” he cried. “You here ! You are not hurst, - then ?” “Hurt ? What do you mean ?” replied the count, puzzled. “ Where is Helen ? I have been searching everywhere for her. She is not ill ?”

Vassily turned pale and pressed his hand to his forehead. In a whisper he told of the contents of the note he had found on his dressing-case.

The count grasped Vassily by the arm.

“This is incredible,” he cried. “I have been at home all day. I sent no message to Helen.” Just then one of the palace servants hurried up to them. He presented a note to Vassily, bowed obsequiously, and retreated. Vassily unfolded the paper, and as his eyes scanned the contents, a terrible change came swiftly over him. He stood like a piece of statuary—frozen to the spot. Then by a mechanical movement he passed the note to Alexis. It was indifferently scrawled on a piece of soiled paper, and was very brief : My Honoured Master,—l crave your pardon for sending you this message, but I thought you ought to know that the police have been in the house since you left. They are just gone, after having the impudence to search every room. —Your faithful servant, DAVID.

Alexis crumpled the note in his hand.

"I begin to doubt my senses,” he exclaimed, in a dazed tone. “What does this mean ?” “I,will find out what it means,” said Vassily.

He beckoned fiercely to a tall, broad-shouldered man who was passing by on the outer edge of the throng. The latter turned and came slowly towards them. His stern face was ornamented by a heavy irongrey moustache and side whiskers. On his bosom was the cordon of honour —a sure mark of Imperial favour.

Vassily drew him partly behind the screen of plants.

“Inspector Sumaroffl,” he said, with forced calmness, “read this note. Can you tell me what it means ?” A slight flush tinged the inspector’s face as he took the paper and slowly perused it. "I regret to say that I can give you an explanation,” he replied, in a coldly-severe voice. “I assure you of my sympathy, Captain Armfeldt, and I warn you that my words will he very painful. I have just come from, my office, where I received the report of two assistants. In accordance with information obtained several days ago, I caused a certain house in the Viborg Quarter to be raided this evening. My men captured a party of Nihilists. Your sister was among them. She is now in the Fortress. I also caused her apartments to be searched, and documents of an incriminating nature were found therein.” “Impossible !” moaned Vassily — 1 impossible ! It cannot be” The effect was different upon Alexis. Ungovernable fury mastered his prudence. Hie vigour and fierceness of his denunciation brought a flush of anger to Inspector 1 Sumaroff’s face and a menacing gleam to his eyes.

“Count NordhoS ! Captain Armfeldt !” he exclaimed in a tone of anger. “I am amasfed. Have you forgotten what is due to ybur rank —to your presence here to-night. Leave the palace, sirs, at once ’ He pointed imperiously to a sidedoor. He strode across the alcove and flung it open. Alexia grasped his companion's arm and led him forcibly towards the quay.

“Is this madness—or a terrible reality ?” moaned Vassily. “It is incredible. It cannot be true.” "It is true—too true, I fear,” replied the count.

They mounted the steps ,of General Armfeldt’s residence, and were met at the door by the faithful old servant David. In a voice trembling with agitation he pictured the visit of the police.

“I was powerless to interfere, my master, he said. “They went everywhere. Not content to search the other apartments, they even visited the boudoir of my young mistress. They took papers from under the carpet, from behind the furniture.” “Papers !” muttered Vassily. “This devil’s work is deeper than I suspected.” He led the way to Helen’s apartments. With indescribable emotions Alexis crossed the threshold of this sacred spot. His blood boiled with passion when he noted the havoc and confusion of Helen’s boudoir. The floor was strewn with the contents of upturned drawers. Amid the wreckage lay his own portrait, shattered and crushed. In frantic haste Vassily searched both rooms for the fatal note. It was not to he found. He hurried across the hall to his own apartments, and returned in great agitation. “The scrap of paper that contain-

ed her message to me has also disappeared,” ha exclaimed. "Both notes are gone. It is a terrible loss.” "They would have proved valuable clues,” answered Alexis. “It is useless to seek further, since the police must have carried them off. In that event they are not lost beyond hope of recovery. The theft is deeply significant, however. The :miscreant who is at the bottom of this affa.ir must be in the confidence of either the police or the Nihilists. How else could he have known that this meeting was to be held in the Viborg Quarter to-night?” “True,” assented Vassily. “The former supposition is right. He must be connected with the police, since it is rarely indeed that, these Nihilists betray their friends. Doubtless he was with this very search party. It was he himself who concealed these papers in Helen’s room and pretended to find them. We have a formidable enemy to deal with, Alexis. Our task will be a hard one.” He instructed David to summon the servants. They were quickly gathered in the upper hall—half a dozen anxious and terrified-looking men and women. The maid was the only one among them who knew of Helen’s mysterious summons and departure, and she could relate but the meagre scraps she had told before.

"Where is Yuri Popovitch ?” Vastily sharply demanded. "I do not see him. It was he who delivered this letter to your mistress. He can describe the sleigh and its driver.”

"My master, Yuri Popovitch is not in the house,” ho said. "Who gave him permission to. be absent ?” demanded Vassily. “I questioned him but a short time before I went to the ball. When did he leave ?”

"I cannot tell, my master,” replied David. ‘‘He was not seen after the police entered the house. His belongings are gone from his room.” Vassily turned pale. He dismissed the servants by a motion of h.is hand and they went softly down stairs.

“You suspect this Yuri Popovitch ?” questioned Alexis. “I do,” replied Vassily. “The mystery grows deeper and more terrible. Yuri Popovitch has been in our service but a few days. He came with the best of recommendations. I am satisfied now that he was a spy in the employ of the man who devised this fiendish plot. It was he who concealed the papers in Helen’s room, I have no doubt, and he who carried off both notes. Now he has disappeared—no one knows where. There are darker deeds possible in Russia than ever you or I dreamed of. This night’s work means to our familyruin to you.” “But there .is such a thing as justice,’'’ declared Alexis. “Justice !” repeated the other, with darkening brow.

“We are losing precious time,” said Alexis, impatiently. Vassily led the way silently to the stables at the rear of the house, and directed that two horses he quickly saddled. He mounted one, Alexis the other. They clattered down the narrow street., and separated at the first corner with a few brief words. Alexis rode on alone towards the Neva embankment.

CHAPTER VI. The count rode straight to his palace after leaving Vassily. There wasnothing that he could do that night. His presence before the officials would have aggravated the situation. Throughout the night he paced up and down his room. A few hours before he had been the happiest of men. Now the future was black with despair. The thought of Helen behind prison bars was maddening was a torture that it seemed to him he could not endure. If he could only go to her—could only -do something to comfort her—he felt he could better sustain this dreadful shock.

In the course of the night his thoughts strayed to the murder at Samarkand, and of his strange encounter with the assassin.

“Can it be possible that Cranbrook was right?” he reflected. “Perhaps I have an enemy, and he has fiendishly chosen this mode of attack. He stabs me through Helen. If I could find that missing paper it might throw some light upon the mystery.” But he quickly banished this suspicion as absurd, and went on with his weary vigil. The grey light of dawn was close at hand. He was pale and haggard from mental torture.

Driven almost to distraction, he took a small phial containing'a powerful opiate from a closet, and poured a few drops into a glass of wine. He drank the contents and staggered to hie coueh. In a few minutes he was sleeping soundly. He had unwittingly taken more of the opiate than he intended. This, in connection with the intense exhaustion of mind and body, had a stupefying effect. He slept on profoundly through the whole day. Darkness succeeded twilight, and still his slumber was unbroken. The clock on his dressingtable ticked away the hours. At the stroke of ten he awoke and sat up. He was startled to find himself in darkness. He remembered the past, and a bitter sigh escaped his lips as he groped his way across the room and pulled the bell cord. The summons was speedily answered by Lanin, the count’s valet, who brought with him a lighted lamp and a packet of letters. The count took the letters and hastily tore them open. Most of them were invitations, or related to affairs of business. Two were of more importance. One was in Cranhrook’s familiar hand. He stated briefly that he had learned of the count's terrible bereavement ; he expressed heartfelt sympathy and tendered h:ft services. The other mi uni we

from Alexis. It was brief, and contained little consolation. It ran as follows :

My dear Alexis,—l was able to accomplish nothing last night, but I have strong hopes for to-day. I will be with you this evening. Await my coming.

The count tossed the letters impatiently aside. His eyes lighted upon a card that had fallen to the floor. He picked it up, and read Granbrook’s name.

"This gentleman was here ?” he inquired.

“Twice,” replied Lanin —‘‘at four this afternoon and at eight this evening. There wore two other callers ; they refused to give their names. l ” "But Captain Armfeldt was here, surely ?”

"No, my lord ; he has not been here to-day.” The count’s face clouded, and he remained for a moment in deep thought. He picked up Vassily’s letter and read it a second time.

He completed his toilet in haste and descended to the dining room and ate a hurried bite. As he rose from the table the bell rang hurriedly. A moment later a servant entered the room. “A stranger is at the door, my lord. He refused to give his name or card, no would he enter the hall. I told him you were dining, but he insisted that his business was urgent.” “I will see him,” muttered the count. He entered the hall, oppressed by a nameless dread. Through the partially-open street door he was thrilled to catch a glimpse of a covered sleigh standing by the kerb. On the outer step he found a tall, bearded man in the heavy blue cloak of the police. ‘‘l believe I have the honour to address Count Nordhofl 7” , began the stranger. ‘‘l am the bearer of a message from his excellency Inspector Sumaroff. He requests that you will favour him with an immediaee interview.” "Is this an order of arrest?” asked the count. "Surely not,” replied the police emissary. ‘‘My instructions are exactly as I have stated.” "I will accompany you in a moment,” said Alexis.

He turned back into the hall and donned a furred coat and cap. He made a movement towards the bellcord with the intention of telling the servants where he was going, but he changed his mind, and hurried into the street. He regretted afterwards, when it was too late, that he had not obeyed the impulse. He stepped into the sleigh, and the messenger—who was also the driver — closed the door. An instant later the fleet black horses galloped forward through the driving snow. Alexis glanced out of the window from time to time, noting the familiar streets through which he was passing. The shadow of despair had partially lifted, and he now felt in a hopeful mood. The interview to which he was summoned portended favourable things. He believed that the inspector had good news to tell him.

When the sleigh turned into a side street that crossed the Nevski Prospekt near the City Hall, he remembered vaguely that Inspector Sumarofl was said to have a private office in this thoroughfare—a secluded spot where he could receive, without fear of interruption, the reports of the secret police. A block and a half below the Nevski Prospekt the sleigh stopped before a quiet three-storey house. The windows on the lower floor were shuttered ; from behind the curtains of the upper ones not a ray of light was visible. Three steps led to a narrow door, in the face of which was a small grated wicket. On the top step stood a tall, broad-shoul-dered man. His fur cap was pulled over his eyes, and his face was muffled in the spacious collar of a capo coat.

Alexis noted these details at a glance. He could not see very distinctly, for the street was .in deep shadow, owing partly to the falling snow and partly to the absence of any lamp post in the immediate visin'ty. As the door of the sleigh was thrown open he sprang lightly to the pavement. The driver was at his elhow.

“Walk straight up stairs,” he said, quietly. “You will find the inspector in the rear apartment on the second floor. He awaits your arrival. My instructions are to return here an hour later in order to take you home.”

Alexis nodded. As he crossed the pavement two impressions flashed into his mind. It struck him as a curious coincidence that the horses attached to the sleigh should be without Pel’s, as was the case with the mysterious vehicle which had lured Helen Armfeldt to the fatal trap on the previous night. He was also impressed with the conviction that he had seen, on some, past occasion, the fall figure and bearded face of 'the guard who was on duty before the door.

These thoughts were but momentary. The sentry threw open the grated door with a silent and respectful salute. Alexis bowed in return ashe ascended the steps and entered the dimly-lit hall. He traversed it for thirty feet, passing on his right hand a closet, the door of which was bulged open .several inches. He felt a curious desire to peer inside—to discover the cause of the dark stain that was visible at the edge of the crevice. But he had now reached a ■winding staircase at the rear of the ball. He slowly began the ascent, placing one hand on the rail. Had he turned hack to the street door at that moment he would have seen the sentry and the driver confer together for a i-vief instant as they glanced up (u-d <!owu the deserted street. He ...; *„,ve seen them climb to the

box, sWe by aide, ana anve rapraty away into the gloomy Bight—a covered sleigh unaccompanied by the music of bells. *

But Alexis had no thought of retracing his steps. He steadily mounted the staircase and found himself in the upper hall. A ray of feeble light shone from a partially-open door ten feet distant. He approached and rapped on the panels. There was no response. From an inner room he heard a clock strike the midnight hour. He rapped again, with like result. He pushed the door open and entered a narrow vestibule. A second door confronted him. This, too, was open several inches, and a glare of yellow light streamed through. He rapped twice in vain ; then, concluding that the inspector was in a rear apartment, he boldly opened the door wide. He did not observe that a bell-rope had been deftly fastened to the inner handle in such a fashion that the slightest movement would exert a strong pressure upon its length. In a large chair in the centre of the room sat Inspector SumaroS. His back was turned to the door, and his head and shoulders were bent forward over a table, as though he were in the act of writing. Yet he' was perfectly still, and seemed to have fallen asleep in that position. The glare of a massive lamp shone upon his iron-grey hair and rigid arms. So satisfied was Alexis of the man’s slumber that he crossed the floor on tiptoe. He hesitated to waken the inspector, and yet he wanted him to know that his summoned visitor had arrived. These was no malice or resentment in his heart now. He saw before him only the stetn and upright official, rigid and unswerving in his sense of duty, true to his conscience and his Czar, He advanced still closer, not observing the dark pool that had gathered under the table and was trickling in a tiny stream towards the door. Now he stood directly behind the sleeping man. He tapped him on the shoulder, but there was no movement. He bent downward and took one glance at the white, set face smeared with crimson stains. He staggered backward with a gasp of unutterable horror.

“My God !” he cried, hoarsely, “he is dead.”

' Yes, Inspector Sumaoff was deadslain by the hand of an assassin. The top of his skull was crushed in, and the iron-grey hair was dabbled wi£h blood. The red stream had trickled down over his face and bosom, and lay in a little pool on the edge of the table.

Though staggered and dazed by the shock, Alexis did not lose his self-con-trol. He touched the murdered man’s forehead, and found it still warm. The crime was of recent commission, then. The assassin had delivered the blow from behind, and death must have been instantaneous. One of the inspector’s hands rested lightly on the table ; the stiflened fingers of the other clutched a pen. He had been writing at the time. Alexis caught a glimpse of his own name on the partially-covered sheet of paper. He leaned forward and read the document. It was an order for the arrest of Count Alexis Nordhoff, and lacked only the signature. Then his attention was absorbed by a tablet of hastily-jotted-down memoranda. He saw on it the following item ;

“Order of arrest executed on Captain' Vassily Armfeldt at four o’clock this afternoon. Examination takes place at the Fortress at ten o’clock to-morrow morning.”

Alexis .staggered back, sick with horror and consternation. He clapped his hand to his eyes to shut out the ghastly picture of the murdered man. “Vassil y pr soner j.n the tress !” he groaned. “An order issued for my arrest also ! There is no longer any hope. All is lost !’’ Suddenly his strained hearing detected footsteps overhead, then followed the sound of voices and the creaking of doors. This recalled him to the present. For the first time he realised the frightful peril of his situation. The conviction flashed upon him with overwhelming force that he had been purposely decoyed to this fatal spot by the real assassin. If captured he would surely suffer for the crime. There was every proof of his guilt; none of his innocence. For an instant he was stupefied with horror.

“Unless I escape I am lost.” he cried.

i He glared wildly about the room,- ; half-tempted to try the shuttered windows. ■ Footsteps were now clattering down the stairway from the 1 third floor. The sounds drove him to desperation. He scarcely knew what he was doing,' though he had a vague - idea that he must resist capture at all hazards. He caught sight of a short iron bar lying on the table. ,He neither knew nor cared that it : was' the assassin’s instrument of : death. He snatched it, all clammy with thickened blood as it was, and rushed for the door.

When the count reached the door he found that it was already too late. The vestibule and hallway swarmed suddenly with grim-faced men. As they surged into the room, Alexis, iron bar in hand, tried to force his way to the street. He was quickly overpowered, however, and borne to the floor. His captors locked irons upon his wrists and ankles. They threw him roughly into a chair and set a. guard over him. (To be Continued.)