IN THE NAME OF THE CZAR.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 30, Issue 17, 1 March 1918, Page 7

IN THE NAME OF THE CZAR.

By WILLIAM ?.!.'GRAY GRAYDON, Author of “V-cra Shamarin,” "The House of Orfanoff,” £.c.

(Copyright.)

PART 3. CHAPTER VII,

A sub-inspector and a surgeon were sent for. They quickly arrived, accompanied by a patrol of gendarmes and Cossacks. Alexia was recognised by several persons. He heard his name mentioned with horror and aversion. The sub-inspector sat down at the desk and began to write hastily. Men went constantly in and out o'f the room. A vast mob had congregated in the street, and their hoarse, swelling murmur could be plainly heard, [t was a tragic moment when four gendarmes entered, bearing between them the dead body of a man in police uniform. They placed it on the floor, and shudderingly wiped the blood from their hands. A crowd instant]" surrounded the spot. "It is poor Nicholas,” said one. “He was on duty at the street door. God have mercy on his soul !” “He was no traitor, then,” exclaimed the 1 sub-inspector. “I feared he was concerned in the crime.”

“No,” replied one of the gendarmes, “he was stabbed to the heart by the assassin. We found the body thrust into the closet in the lower hall.”

Alexis listened with growing horror to thin fresh arraignment. Worse and worse. He was charged • with a double murder, lie saw more clearly than ever the diabolical meshwork in which he had become entangled. His enemy—and he knew now that one existed —had' planned every detail with matchless cunning and ingenuity. Not a loophole of escape had been left open. A moment later a messenger entered the room and whispered to the sub-i inspector. The latter signalled the gendarmes, who quickly removed Alexis’s ankle fetters and conducted him downstairs. As they passed into the street a furious shout broke from the mob, who were held at bay by a cordon of Cossacks. The trying ordeal was quickly over. The prisoner was hustled across the pavement and into a closed sleigh that stood , alongside the kerb. Two of the gendarmes sprang in after him. The driver whipped up his horses, and the sleigh swept swiftly towards the Portress, accompanied by a troop of mounted Cossacks.

The wheels of Russian justice move swiftly and •in secret, The police are all powerful. ’ln many cases men and women are arrested, condemned without the formality of a trial, and sent to a living death in Siberia before their friends and relatives know what has become of them. In the case of Captain Armfeldt and his sister and Count Alexis Nordhofi there was widespread publicity. The authorities .were powerless to prevent this, owing to the high social standing of the offenders. A wave of heartfelt sympathy rippled through court and military circles, and the influence of powerful friends was quickly enlisted. But all this was of no avail. Indeed, it only strengthened the determination of the Minister of Police to prosecute the affair to its utmost limits.

Of late the seeds of Nihilism and Socialism had gained ground among the upper classes with alarming rapidity. Here was an opportunity which the authorities had long wanted—a chance to terrify aristocratic evildoers by holding up before them in awful warning and example. So, In spite of the sympathy and powerlul influence that were ‘ enlisted in their behalf, the prisoners were summarily dealt with.

In Helen’s case there was no defence possible. She had been arrestid at a meeting of Nihilists, and documents that proved her intimacy and connection with them had been found an her apartments. She was adjudged guilty and was not allowed to speak in her own behalf. She was sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment at the town of Yeniseisk, in Northern Siberia.

Her fellow-conspirators,, who received a like sentence, knew nothing of her fate or of the circumstances attending it. It is doubtful if they would have cleared her had the chance offered. They knew that some one had betrayed them, and they thirsted for revenge. It would have made no difference to them had they known that the traitor had used the innocent girl as a cat’s-paw. Helen was equally ignorant of the meshwork that was woven round her. She was ignorant of the arrest of her brother and lover. She depended on them to establish her innocence and save her. But when she • received neither message nor visit from either of them during her brief incarceration in the Portress, hope changed to despair. She started on her dreary journey with a well-nigh broken heart.

Vassily left St. Petersburg two days later, but not, exactly as a prisoner. His arrest had been based on the disturbance at the Court ball, but underneath • it was a suspicion on the part of the authorities that he was connected with the Nihilists. However, there was no .proof of this, and the Czar was graciously pleased to degrade him to the rank of lieutenant and assign him to a post of duty at Vladivostok, the remote Russian seaport on the Pacific coast, six .thousand miles from St. Petersburg. .'Crushed and heartbroken, Vassily ,had no alternative but to submit. Before his departure he learned of 'Helen’s fate and of Count Nordhofl’s

altered crime. He realised that both were hopelessly doomed. He believed that Alexis was guiltythat the loss of hio promised wife had driven him to despiration, and that he had slain Inspector Sumarofl in a fit of ungovernable passion. Qf course Vassily was not in a position to obtain further information than that voluntarily given him by his gaolers. He was held in confinement until the day of Count Nordhofl’s trial. That afternoon he left St. Petersburg on the first stage of his long water journey to Vladivostok.

The count’s trial was conducted publicly, and he was allowed to avail himself of the best legal talent in the city. None the less, he was promptly found guilty. His story was laughed at., and he had no proof to sustain it. On the other hand, there was damning evidence of his guilt. He was condemned to death, but on the following day the sentence was commuted to hard labour for life in the silver mines of Vertschinks, near Irkutsk,. Within forty-eight hours he was speeding southwards by rail in custody of a guard of Cossacks.

Thus the curtain fell upon the the three victims of a frightful injustice, but on the outer side of l it were left two staunch and noble hearts. Ralph Cranbrook and Piers Vivian were resolved to unearth the mystery—to devote fortune and life, if need be, to the task of clearing their friends and bringing to justice the fiend who had planned and executed such a fearful revenge.

They failed to secure an interview with a single one of the prisoners, but they were present at Count Nordhofl’e trial, and they heard him relate the seemingly ridiculous story of his visit to Inspector Sumaroff on the night of the murder. Vassily had previously told them, on the morning L after the Court ball, all the circumstances connected with Helen’s arrest. They had already discovered that the note which took him to the Naval Club was a forgery—that the supposed writer had actually been absent from the city at the time.

They called on a detective of much celebrity—a Frenchman named Maxima Valadon, Cranbrook introduced himself and hie companion, and briefly stated their errand. He spoke in French—a language with which both he and Vivian were fluently acquainted. Maxime Valadon listened attentively to the end., “Messieurs, this is indeed a strange coincidence,” he exclaimed, in a tone of enthusiasm. "I have been attracted by this very case. I have been giving it careful study. From the first I scented a mystery. I have even gone so far as to acquire certain information. Behold !” He pointed to a table which was littered with newspapers, documents, and some sheets of paper partially written upon. “I agree with you, monsieur,” he continued, “that your friends are innocent. I was present at the trial of Count Nordhofi.” CHAPTER VIII. The murky dawn of a March morning shone through grimy window panes into an exile station-house on the great Siberian post road. It glared coldly and pitilessly, on the filthy walls, and revealed the dull outlines of two hundred human wretches, both men and women, who were huddled densely on the hard floor. Some slept soundly ; others moaned and tossed in the throes of delirious illness or troubled dreams. An imaginary line drawn across one corner of the room separated the women from the men. The latter were chained together two by two. From an adjoining apartment came suddenly the sound of gruff voices and the creaking of booted feet. The next instant the notes of a bugle rang shrill and clear. Its echo had scarcely died away ere the convicts awoke and staggered to their feet. They knew the signal well. It meant the beginning of another day’s misery and fatigue—another weary stage through heavy snow towards their ultimate destination in far-distant prisons and mines. With a dismal clanking of chains they surged through the double doors that had suddenly been opened into a dreary court yard. The air was chilly. Snow was falling thickly., and lay half a foot deep on the ground. Off to one side the drivers were harnessing the peasants carts. Cossacks and officers swarmed out of their quarters. With sour looks they noted the pelting storm. They drove the helpless .prisoners into line. The scanty supply of rations for the day was brought forward in baskets and hastily distributed. Brief time was allowed for the repast. The capt.i.■. of the guard strode to the front of ” line, pulling his collar about ■*»*** He glared sullenly at the hundred drawn faces as he calle * roll. An assistant checked off response. Here were a dozen blano-B ; twelve of the unfortunates lay moaning with sickness inside the station. They were brought out and examined by the surgeon. Some were shoved into the ranks ; others ordered to the carts.

“Pall in!” thundered the Cossacks. In scrambling haste the men lined up in flies of six. The . women and children mounted the carts. The gates of the court-yard were flung open.

“Forward!” rang the sharp command, and instantly the dreary procession was in motion.

Keeping time with the harsh clinkclank of iron fetters, it passed through the gates and turned eastward along the snowy post-road. First came the advance guard of ten Cossacks, muffled in green uniforms and armed with Berdan rifles. •• Then marched the convicts between scattered lines of soldiers. Half a score of carts followed, laden with women

and children, sick prisoners ana naggage. The rear was brought up by a comfortable covered sledge in which reclined the commanding officer. A bend in the road soon hid the station house. Ahead was the pitiless cloud of snow ; on each side lay a dense forest of spruce and pine. The convicts were a motley crew. There were a few politicals among them. The majority w T ere desperate criminals. Jews and peasants marched side by side with swarthy Circassians and' fierce mountaineers from Daghestan. Turks from the Crimea were fettered to sunburned Tartars from the Lower Volga.

In the front file were two stronglycontrasted types, fettered leg to leg. Both wore the ordinary convict garb —blouse, cap, and trousers of coarse grey cloth, and high leather boots. The one was more than six feet high, with broad shoulders and powerful limbs. His face was repulsive, and was disfigured by numerous ugly scars. He was between fifty and sixty years of age. His companion was tall and aris-tacratic-looking. In spite of the ravages of grief and hardship, his old friends could still have recognised Count Nordhoff. His fellow-convicts were ignorant of his name and crime. They knew as little about him as he of them—and that was simply nothing. Possibly the only individual who did know him was the commanding officer, Captain Gorka. Alexis stood on the same basis with his chainmate, with whom he had shared a pair of fetters for the past three days. He knew that his name was Carl Pushkin, but that was all. He had no desire to come to closer terms with such an undoubted ruffian and desperado. The other, finding his repeated advances rebuffed, had lapsed into sullen reticence.;

The procession wound on for mile after mile through the deepening snow. Alexis kept weary step with his own file, bowing Ms head to the cutting blast. He felt as one who is interred in a living tomb. There was nothing to expect or look forward to but hopeless misery, yet the past was always in his thoughts—an everpresent torture and sting. He tried not to think of Helen, though there were times when her memory would not be thrust aside — moments when he was goaded almost to madness. He wondered what had been her fate and Vassily’s—if they would ever meet in the dreary Siberian future.

Ais he plodded on by the side of his chain-mate his thoughts strayed to the shifting scenes of the past six weeks. The nucleus of the convict band to which he now belonged had started from Russia six months before. Instead of taking the same tedious route, he had been hurried forward by rail and post—first to the frontier and across the Ural mountains, then by .river steamboat to the city of Tomsk,, two thousand six hundred miles from St. Petersburg. He had reached there three days before and overtaken the band of convicts. Now he was experiencing the trials and hardships of the ordinary exile. One thousand weary miles must be covered on foot before he would reach his destination aear Irkutsk. He seemed to have lived years in those short six weeks—years of black despair .and agonizing heart-ache.

Alexis shivered with cold as he tramped blindly on. A misstep sent him sprawling in the snow, and his knee came in sharp contact with a hidden stone. After that he limped badly, and could scarcely repress groans of pain. “Lean on me, comrade," muttered Carl Pushkin. He drew his chainmate close to his powerful frame and supported him with one arm. Alexis was forced to accept this aid. He felt grateful for it. and his reserve and disdain melted away. "This man seems to have a kind heart in spite of his looks,” he reflected. "He might regard me With equal abhorrence did he know of what crime I had been convicted.”

When Pushkin inquired how he felt, he gave a cordial answer. “The pain will not last long,” replied the big convict, in a tone which implied a willingness to let bygones be bygones ; “but it was an ugly fall. You must keep up your strength, for there are hard times ahead of us.”

“Alas ! yes,” admitted Alexis. “The journey will continue many weeks. However, it is close to spring, and we shall then suffer less from the cold.”

“Little signs of spring now,” replied Pushkin, “though, as you say, its coming can’t be much longer delayed ; this has been a frightfully severe winter. But when I spoke of hardships I meant to-day. We shall be lucky indeed' if morning finds us at the next station house. The snow is already a foot and a half deep, and the storm will continue for hours. More than one of these poor wretches will find a white grave ; only the strong and hardy will survive.”

“Is the outlook indeed so bad?” exclaimed Alexis., in a tone of horror.

“Yes, mountains and lonely forest stretch on all sides of us. I know well of what I speak. Twice before have I travelled this road to the mines of Kara. Once it was in the dead of winter, as now, and I saw men die like sheep.”

“And did you indeed escape from Siberia ?” inquired Alexis, in surprise. "Is such a thing possible?” “Yes ; if one has the fortitude to endure hardships that would kill an ordinary man,” replied Pushkin. “I escaped twice, and worked my way back to Russia. Twice also was I retaken. Now I am on my third journey to the mines. But I am not yet an old man, and doubtless I shall see Russia once more before I die.” He was silent for a little while, and his scarred features worked convulsively. Alexis glanced with mingled admiration and repulsion at his massive and powerful limbs—at the stur-

ay legs wmcn naa trampca cnousanus of miles to and fro across Siberia. The conversation was not reaimcd, since one of the Cossacks had stationed himself alongside the file, and was so close that Alexis could have touched him by reaching out his arm. For three or four hours the weary band groped their way along. It was now quite dark. The encircling forest stood dimly out from the swirling snowflakes. Progress was painfully slow. The advance guard of Cossacks, as they groped their way forward .in a compact mass, failed to note a fork in the road and a granite column, whose inscription was obliterated by the darkness. They blindly pursued the turning to the left, unconscious of their mistake. Behind them staggered the shivering and footsore wretches, urged on by rough guards. The dreary march continued at a snail’s pace. Suddenly from a short distance ahead came a volley of hoarse shouts. The vanguard of Cossacks struggled on a few yards. A moment later a mounted officer rode forward and checked his horse on the very toes of the vanguard. “Who* are you?” he demanded. ‘‘What are you doing here ? Who is your commandant ?” “Captain Gorka,” replied the. Cossacks. “He has preceded us to the station-house with the carts. Surely you met him on the way ?” “Gorka ?” repeated the officer. “He is the commander of the party that was to leave Tomsk for Irkutsk on the day following my departure. Ah, I understand .it now. You took the wrong turning more than a mile back. Did you not see the guidestone ? You are now on the road to Yeniseisk.”

The Cossacks cursed their luck and the convicts moaned in despair.

“It’s an ugly fix,’’ resumed the officer. “I wish I could help you, hut I have a party of fifty convicts on my hands —half in carts and the balance on foot. We are hound for Yeniseisk, hut the heavy snowdrifts have compelled us to halt. My troops are now searching for firewood. You had better push on a few yards and join us. It is out of the question for you to retrace your steps. Every man will perish.” The officer evidently had a humane heart. He turned his horse and galloped back. The Cossacks followed, having no other alternative, and the head of the column was soon in touch with the line of carts, which were filled mainly with women. Beyond them could he faintly seen the huddled groups of strange convicts.

There was a moment of hesitancy and inaction. Then the silence was broken by a frightful sound—a long, blood-curdling wail from the forest to the right. It was quickly caughtup on all sides. The shrill yelping came closer and closer, waking the night to dismal echoes. “The wolves are upon as !” cried the convicts.

The panic-stricken wretches rent the air with shrieks of fright that fairly drowned the baying of the ravenous and swiftly-approaching brutes. In dogged despair they stood still, not knowing whither to flee. Piercing screams rose from the unfortunate occupants of the carts. The threatened peril was under-estimated by none.

Pushkin grasped Alexis by the arm. “We are lost !” he cried in his ear. “Hark ! the brutes are coming by hundreds. The hard, long winter has driven them to the verge of starvation, and they are as bold and fierce as lions.”

The Cossacks made a cowardly bolt for the forest, intending to take shelter in the branches of the trees. But the officer in command of the other party dashed suddenly among them and drove them back.

"You dogs !” he thundered; “would you leave these shackled wretches to their fate ? Where is your locksmith ? Have him take off every iron. Quick ! while there is time.” The Cossacks were cowed into obedience. The locksmith appeared and hastily set to work with his keys. The front file were liberated, Pushkin and Alexis among the number, then the two succeeding ones.

The next instant the uproar rose to a frightful pitch as scores of gaunt, dusky forms sprang from the surrounding forest and with-, savage snarls launched themselves upon their victims. Fettered and freed tumbled over one another in the mad scramble for life. The locksmith dropped his keys a--' fled, but swift retribution overt ! him, and his body was torn limb fr limb. The Cossacks vanished in " 11 directions, shooting as they ran. 1 The horses attached to the nearest cart bolted instantly. The vehicle overturned, and its occupants were ‘ pitched into the snow. ) Alexis saw the catastrophe aid sprang forward. He snatched the frail 'figure of a woman in his arms. “My God ! ” he cried, as he glanced into her face. “It is Helen !” |

CHAPTER IX

In that moment of frigh' -il peril Alexis could not analvse Ms emotions, yet he know that t’ girl he had snatched from tin snow was indeed Helen Armfcldt. ’’’he dim light revealed her face, a ; .d it seemed to him more beautiful than ever, worn though it was by the keen tooth of suffering and privation. She had fainted at the sound of his voice, and now lay white and still in his arms. The dreaded pandemonium that rose from all sides warned Alexis that not a second was to be lost. His staunch heart sank as he glared vainly about him in search of some place of refuge. A Cossack had been overcome by the wolves. His rifle lay ten feet away. Alexis made a dash for it, and clutching it fimly by the barrel, he sprang back to Helen’s side, snatched

the still senseless girl in his arms, and ran towards the covered sledge. As he drew near he saw that the horses had broken loose from the traces and fled. The leather curtains were buttoned tightly over the rear and sides of the vehicle. He hurried to the front end and tossed his burden lightly over the seat. Mounting upon the fore wheels he climbed into the interior. Helen had landed on a pile of straw directly behind the seat. Her consciousness began to return.

“Courage, Helen !” cried Alexis. “I will save you.” The rifle he had picked up was a repeater. He turned the muzzle on the howling pack of wolves that now surrounded tne sledge, and pulled the trigger rapidly. Bach shot brought down a wolf, and the bodies were instantly pounced upon and mangled by their comrades. But only a few shots had been fired when the cartridges were exhausted.

Alexis was in despair, but a cry from Helen sent the hot blood pulsing through his veins and gave him the strength and valour of a madman. Throwing one leg over the seat and bracing it on the footboard, he gripped the rihe with both hands and waited. Doubtless there were cartridges somewhere in the sledge, but he had no time to seek them.

With gnashing teeth and howls of fury, the wolves scrambled over one another and bounded in the air. It was an easy matter to gain the footboard of the sledge, but it was not so easy to stick, there. Thud, thud, rang the rifle stock as brute after brute was beaten down. Yelping and snarling, they renewed the attack, glaring like fiends at the man who stoutly held them at bay. But human endurance was not proof against such desperate and repeated onslaughts. Alexis felt his strength failing. It was a frightful moment, when a rifle shot rang out above the yelping of the. maddened pack. Flashing lights shone inside and danced on the furs—on Helen’s flushed face and widqi open eyes.

Alexis staggered forward and leaned over the seat. He saw the cowardly wolves skurrying ofi through the forest. He saw the Cossacks who belonged to the strange party advancing from up the road, waving torches as they came. They had rallied 'and driven off the ravenous pack. In the rear tramped those of the prisoners who were yet alive —a haggard and moaning band of men and women.

The humane officer was on foot. He ordered the three empty carts to be piled together. This was quickly done and the Cossacks applied torches. The flames roared and crackled, casting a ruddy glare for many yards around. The prisoners were left in the safe shelter of the blaze while the officer and his troops advanced. They passed the sledge and went on down the road, where a horde of Wolves and convicts were yet struggling and shrieking. A moment later the night echoes to the shrill and incessant crack of rifles.

Alexis had seen enough. He crept back to Helen.

“My dear,” he whispered, “do not fear. The wolves have been beaten back.”

She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him.

“Alexis !” she cried, in a tone that thrilled him to the heart. “Is it really you, or am I dreaming ? Yes, I know your voice. I am awake. Thank God ! You have come to save me—to take me home. Oh. how I have suffered —how I have longed for death. But I was sure you would come. I knew your love would defy and conquer all obstacles. Now the misery is over. I am so happy.”

“My God !” he groaned, in his agony. “How can I tell her ?—how can I tell her ?”

“My dear,” he whispered, in a broken and husky voice, “you must know the worst. I entreat you to be brave. I, too, am a convict. I am on my way to the mines near Irkutsk. Let us make the most of this brief opportunity, for we shall soon be dra.-gad apart- Let us plan”

A phifui cry interrupted him, and then aL ‘lent. Helen had fainted under ” e shock.

He c’ her still form in bis arms and wept bitterly. “It is better so,*” he murmured. “She is snared the agony of parting Sb •'*** know how terrible 'u-rr ■*“ kcr plight—hers and

had now been beaten crieo rose on the air crept to the front of the "he Cossacks were returning t’>r uninjured and wounded con»,j*ts. The commanding officer, who »«ded the dismal procession, caught » glimpse of -Alexis. A quick order given, and half a dozen Cossacks wv armed at once into the sledge. He was dragged out and over to the fire. Rude hands placed Helen on a plank beside him. Then both prisoners were momentarily forgotten as the survivors of Captain Gorka’s band came slowly forward. Little wonder that they rent the air with lamentations. From a total of two hundred, scarcely more than one hundred and forty remained alive Sixty men and women had been mangled or 'devoured by the ravenous wolves. A dozen of the soldiers had also perished. The other party, having a brave and efficient leader, had fared better, losing ten convicts and three Cossacks. Thus the total namber of those who had perished by the fangs of the wolves was close upon eighty-five. Cossacks and convicts alike seemed stupefied. After a while some semblance of order was restored. Amid all ■ these scenes, and within hearing of the pitiful cries of the wounded, Alexis stood by the side of her whom he loved better than life. Pie had constituted himself Helen’s protector. He found a heavy cloak

in the snow, and threw it over ner. A heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder. He turned and saw Carl Pushkin. It was a ‘joyful meeting for both. They exchanged glances of pleasure. “You are not hurt ? v exclaimed Alexis. “Not a scratch,” replied Pushkin. “I was helping the Cossacks of the other party. They i lent me a rifle.” He displayed his powder-grimed hands as he resumed : “I witnessed your brave fight, comrade, and when I saw you climb into the sledge I knew you were safe. You have a woman there?” He glanced curiously at Helen. “Yes,” answered Alexis.

At this point a commotion was heard, and a group of Cossacks came down the road. They had gone in search of the runaway carts, and were returning successful. They also had with them the commandant’s horse.

The carts were driven past the fire, and the Cossack who was leading the officer’s steed halted directly alongside of Alexis and Pushkin. The horse was large and powerful. As Alexis glanced from the animal to Helen, a daring idea suggested itself to his mind. “It is worth trying,” he reflected. “We shall be no worse off. Tomsk is but fifty miles distant, and, once there, we will stand a good chance of finding shelter and friends.”

It was a rash and foolhardy impulse. He glanced quickly around him. The Cossack in charge of the horse had let go the bridle, and was filling his pipe with tobacco. Pushkin had joined him, and the two were conversing on easy terms. The rest of the soldiers were either piling fresh wood on the fire or moving to and fro among the wounded convicts. The officer was some distance off. Alexis felt his heart throb wildly as he stooped and lifted Helen in his arms. The next instant he was speeding forward into the night, holding the reins in one hand and clinging to Helen with the other.

Maddened by the incessant prodding of the stirrups and by the shrill clamour that rose from the Cossacks, the high-spirited steed tore on at a furious gallop down the road. Alexis heard the crack of rifles ring above the clamour, and whistling bullets sped by his ears. Then a fierce, wild joy surged through his -heart as he saw the friendly darkness before him. But his exultation was short-lived. Scarcely had the horse left the last Cossack sentry behind when two gaunt brutes leaped from the forest into mid-road, uttering snarls of rage and hunger. The horse swerved so abruptly that Alexis was phot off into the snow. His arm was still round Helen’s waist, and they landed together. The frightened steed turned about and galloped up the road, where he was speedily captured. The wolves retreated to the forest as suddenly as they had come, dismayed by the shouts and blazing torches of the advancing Cossacks. The drifted snow had saved the fugitives from injury. Alexis glanced despairingly at his pursuers as he knelt beside the girl.

“Alexis,” she murmured, “don’t let them separate us.” “It is God’s will,” he replied, holding her to his bteast. “Listen, Helen, I have but a moment to speak. You are going to Yeniseisk —I to Irkutsk. Some day I will escape and come to you. I implore you to believe it. For my sake, be brave and endure your sufferings.” The fervid words were spoken on the spur of the moment, yet he meant them to come true. A ray of hope seemed to shine through his bitter despair.

"Yes ; I will live tor your sake,” she whispered. “Some day you will come, Alexis.” There was no time to say more. The Cossacks were upon them, and they were torn roughly apart. Helen uttered one pitiful scream ; then she hung limply in the arms of her captors as they bore her up the road. Alexis followed between two Cossacks. The spot where the flight had begun was quickly reached. Helen was placed in the covered sledge, which was already crowded with women. The commanding officer confronted Alexis with a glance of anger. “The scoundrel belongs to the other party,” he exclaimed, and turning to Alexis, added ; “What was your object in attempting to carry off a woman whom you never saw until tonight ? Better if I had left you both to the mercy of the wolves. I assuredly would have done so but for the horse.”

Alexis made no reply. He faced his questioner calmly, hut at heart he was deeply worried for fear the secret should be discovered. In that event extraordinary measures might be taken to frustrate the plan which he had recently conceived. The officer turned on his heel, muttering in an audible tone : “There is surely some mystery here. It matters. little, however, since the close of another day will find them miles apart, and with no hope of meeting in the future.” (To he Continued.)