CHAPTER XII

"THE STRANGLER"

Where was Elma? What was the cause of her inexplicable disappearance

into the gloomy forest while we had slept?

I returned to the hotel where I had stayed on my arrival, a comfortable

place called the Phoenix, and lunched there alone. Both Felix, the Finn,

and my host, the wood-cutter, had received their _douceurs_ and left,

but to the last-named I had given instructions to return home at once

and report by telegraph any news of my lost one.

A thousand conflicting thoughts arose within me as I sat in that crowded

_salle-à-manger_ filled with a gobbling crowd of the commercial men of

Abo. I had, I recognized, now to deal with the most powerful man in that

country, and I suffered a distinct disadvantage by being in ignorance of

the reason he held that sweet English girl a prisoner. The tragedy of

the dastardly manner in which she had been willfully maimed caused my

blood to boil within me. I had never believed that in this civilized

twentieth century such things could be.

Michael Boranski had given his pledge to assist me, yet he had most

plainly explained to me his fears. The Baron was intent upon again

getting Elma into his power. Was it at his orders, I wondered, that the

sweet-faced girl had been deprived of speech and hearing? Had she fallen

an innocent victim to his infamous scheming?

About me men were eating strange dishes and talking in Finnish, while

others were smoking and drinking their vodka; but I was in no mood for

observation. My only thought was of she who was now lost to me.

Why had she disappeared without warning I was at loss to imagine, yet I

could only surmise that her flight had been compulsory. Some women

possess a mysterious sense of intuition, a curious and indescribable

faculty of knowing when evil threatens them, that presents a strange and

puzzling problem to our scientists. It is unaccountable, and yet many

women possess it in a very marked degree. Was it, therefore, possible

that Elma had awakened, and being warned of her peril had fled without

arousing us? The suggestion was possible, but I feared improbable.

Another very curious feature in the affair was the sudden manner in

which Michael Boranski had exerted his power and influence in order to

render me that service. He had actually bribed the guards of Kajana; he

had instructed the faithful Felix, he had provided our boat, and he had

ordered the nun to open the water-gate to me. Why?

There was, I felt convinced, some hidden motive in all that sudden and

marked friendliness. That he really hated the English I had seen plainly

when we had first met, and I had only compelled him to serve me by

presenting the order signed by the Emperor, which made me his guest

within the Russian dominions. Even that document did not account for the

length he had gone to secure the release of the woman I now loved in

secret. The more I thought it over, the more anxious did I become. I

could discern no motive for his friendliness, and, truth to tell, I

always distrust those who are too friendly. What straight and decided

line of action should I take? Carefully I went over all the strange

events that had happened in England, and while anxious to obtain some

solution of the amazing problem, yet I could not bring myself to leave

Finland, and allow Elma to fall into the clutches of that high official

who so persistently sought her end. No. I would go to him and face him.

I was anxious to see what manner of man was "The Strangler of Finland."

Therefore, that same evening I left Abo, and traveled by rail up to the

junction Toijala, whence, after a wait of six hours, I resumed by slow

journey to Helsingfors. I put up at Kamp's, an elegant hotel on the long

esplanade overlooking the port, and found the town, with its handsome

streets and spacious squares, to be a much finer place than I had

believed. When I inquired of the French director of my hotel for the

residence of his Excellency, the Governor-General, he regarded me with

some surprise, saying:

"The Baron lives up at the Palace, m'sieur--that great building opposite

the Salutong. The driver of your drosky will point it out to you."

"Is his Excellency in Helsingfors at the present moment?" I asked.

"The Baron never leaves the Palace, m'sieur," responded the man. "This

is a strange country, you know," he added, with a grin. "It is said that

his Excellency is in hourly fear of assassination."

"Perhaps not without cause," I remarked in a low voice, at which he

elevated his shoulders and smiled.

At noon I descended from a drosky before a long, gray, massive building,

over the big doorway of which was a large escutcheon bearing the Russian

arms emblazoned in gold, and on entering where a sentry stood on either

side, a colossal concierge in livery of bright blue and gold came

forward to meet me, asking in Russian:

"Whom do you wish to see?"

"His Excellency, the Governor-General."

"Have you an appointment?"

"No."

"His Excellency sees no one without an appointment," the man told me

somewhat gruffly.

"I am not here on public business, but upon a private matter," I

explained. "Perhaps I may see his Excellency's secretary?"

"If you wish, but I repeat that his Excellency sees no one without a

previous appointment."

I knew this quite well, for the "Strangler of Finland," fearful of

assassination, was as unapproachable as the Czar himself. Following the

directions of the concierge, however, I crossed a great bare courtyard,

and, ascending a wide stone staircase, was confronted by a servant, who,

on hearing my inquiry took me into a waiting-room, and left with my card

to Colonel Luganski, whom he informed me was the Baron's private

secretary.

After ten minutes or so the man returned, saying:

"The Colonel will see you if you will please step this way," and

following him he conducted me into the richly furnished private

apartments of the Palace, across a great hall filled with fine

paintings, and then up a long thickly-carpeted passage to a small,

elegant room, where a tall bald-headed man in military uniform stood

awaiting me.

"Your name is M'sieur Gregg," he exclaimed in very good French, "and I

understand you desire audience of his Excellency, the Governor-General.

I regret, however, that he never gives audience to strangers."

"The matter upon which I desire to see his Excellency is of a purely

private and confidential nature," I said, for used as I was to the ways

of foreign officialdom, I spoke with the same firm courtesy as himself.

"I am very sorry, m'sieur, but I fear it will be necessary in that case

for you to write to his Excellency, and mark your letter 'personal.' It

will then go into the Governor-General's own hands."

"What I have to say cannot be committed to writing," was my reply. "I

must see Baron Oberg upon a matter which affects him personally, and

which admits of no delay."

He glanced at me quickly, and then in a low voice inquired:

"Is it in regard to a--well, a conspiracy?"

His question instantly suggested to me a ruse, and I replied in the

affirmative.

"Then you can place the facts before me without the slightest

hesitation," he said, going to the door and slipping the bolt into its

socket. "Anything spoken into my ear is as though it were spoken into

that of his Excellency himself."

"I much regret, M'sieur the Colonel, that I must see the Baron in

person."

"Has the plot assassination as its object--or revolt?" he asked

pointedly.

"That I will explain to the Baron only."

"But I tell you he will not see you. We have so many persons here with

secret information concerning Finnish conspiracies against our Russian

rule. Why, if his Excellency saw everyone who desired to see him, he

would be compelled to give audience the whole twenty-four hours round."

At a glance I saw that this elegant Colonel, who seemed to take the

greatest pride over his exquisitely kept person and his spotless

uniform, did not intend to allow me the satisfaction of an audience of

that most hated official of the Czar. The latter was in fear of the

dagger, the pistol, or the bomb, and consequently hedged himself in by

persons of the Colonel's type--courteous, diplomatic, but utterly

unbending. After some further argument, I said at last in a firm tone:

"I wish to impress upon you the extreme importance of the information I

have to impart, and can only repeat that it is a matter concerning his

Excellency privately. Will you therefore do me the favor to take my name

to him?"

"His Excellency refuses to be troubled with the names of strangers," was

his cold reply, as he turned over my card in his hand.

"But if I write upon it the nature of my business, and enclose it in an

envelope, will you then take it to him?" I suggested.

He hesitated for a short time, twisting his mustache, and then replied

with great reluctance:

"Well, if you are so determined, you may write your business upon your

card."

I therefore took out one, and on the back wrote in French the words

which I knew must have the effect of obtaining an audience for me:

"_To give information regarding Miss Elma Heath_."

This I enclosed in the envelope he handed to me, when, ringing a bell,

he handed it to the footman who appeared, with orders to take it to his

Excellency and await a reply. The response came in a few minutes.

"His Excellency will give audience to the English m'sieur."

Then I rose and followed the footman through several wide corridors

filled with palms and flowers, which formed a kind of winter-garden,

until we crossed a red-carpeted ante-room, where two statuesque sentries

stood on guard, and the man conducting me rapped at the great polished

mahogany doors of the room beyond.

A voice responded, the door was opened, and I found myself in a high,

beautifully-painted room, with long windows hung with pastel-blue silk

with heavy gilt fringe, a pastel-blue carpet, and upon the opposite wall

a great canopy of rich purple velvet bearing the double-headed eagle

embroidered in gold. The apartment was splendidly decorated, and in the

center of the parquet floor, with his back to the light, was the thin,

wiry figure of an elderly man in a funereal frock-coat, in the lapel of

which showed the red and yellow ribbon of the Order of Saint Anne. His

hands were behind his back, and he stood purposely in such a position

that when I entered I could not at first see his face against the

strong, gray light behind.

But when the footman had bowed and retired and we were alone, he turned

slightly, and I then saw that his bony face, with high cheek-bones,

slight gray side-whiskers, hard mouth and black eyes set closely

together, was one that bore the mark of evil upon it--the keen, sinister

countenance of one who could act without any compunction and without

regret. Truly one would not be surprised at any cruel, dastardly action

of a man with such a face--the face of an oppressor.

"Well?" he snapped in French in a high-pitched voice. "You want to see

me concerning that mad English girl? What picturesque lies do you intend

to tell me concerning her?"

"I have no intention of telling any untruths concerning her," was my

quick response, as I faced him unflinchingly. "She has told me

sufficient to--"

"She has told you something! Ah! I guessed as much. I expected this!"

And I saw that his thin, crafty face went pale, while his eyes glanced

evilly upon me. He believed that she had revealed to me her secret. He

placed his hand upon the back of a chair wherein was concealed an

electric button, and next instant a little stout man in shabby black

appeared as though by magic through a secret door hidden in the dark

paneling of the audience chamber--the man who was his personal guard

against the plots for his assassination.

His Excellency spoke, and the words he uttered staggered me. I stood

aghast.

"Seize that man!" he cried, pointing to me. "He is armed! He has just

threatened to kill me! He is the man against whom we were recently

warned--the Englishman!"

"Ah!" I cried, standing before the thin-faced official of the Czar, the

unscrupulous man who had crushed Finland beneath the iron heel of

Russia, and who, by his lying allegation, now held me in his power. "I

see your object, Baron Oberg! You intend to arrest me as a conspirator!"

"Search the fellow. He has a revolver there in his hip-pocket," declared

the Governor-General, and in an instant the short, ferret-eyed little

man had run his hands down me and felt my weapon.

I drew it forth and handed it to him, saying:

"You are quite welcome to it if you fear that I am here with any

sinister motive."

"He obtained admission by a clever ruse," the Baron explained to the

police agent. "And then he threatened me."

"It's untrue," I protested hotly. "I have merely called to see you

regarding the young English lady, Elma Heath--the unfortunate lady whom

you consigned to the fortress of Kajana."

"The mad woman, you mean!" he laughed.

"She is not mad," I cried, "but as sane as you yourself. It is you who

intended that the horrors of the castle should drive her insane, and

thus your secret should be kept!"

"What do you suggest?" he demanded, stepping a few paces towards me.

"I mean, Xavier Oberg, that you would kill Elma Heath if you dared to

do so," I answered plainly, as I faced him unflinchingly.

"You see?" he laughed, turning to the stout man at my side. "The fellow

is insane. He does not know what he is talking about. Ah, my dear

Malkoff, I've had a narrow escape! He came here intending to shoot me."

"I did not," I protested. "I am here to demand satisfaction on behalf of

Miss Heath."

"Oh!--well, if the lady cares to come here herself, I will give her the

satisfaction she desires," was his crafty reply.

"The lady has escaped you, and it is therefore hardly likely she will

willingly return to Helsingfors," I said.

"It was you who succeeded, by throwing the guard into the water, in

abducting her from the castle," he remarked. "But," he added sneeringly,

with a sinister smile, "I presume your gallantry was prompted by

affection--eh?"

"That is my own affair."

"A deaf and dumb woman is surely not a very cheerful companion!"

"And who caused her that affliction?" I cried hotly. "When she was at

Chichester she possessed speech and hearing as other girls. Indeed, she

was not afflicted when on board the _Lola_ in Leghorn harbor only a few

months ago. Perhaps you recollect the narrow escape the yacht had on the

Meloria sands?"

His eyes met mine, and I saw by his drawn face and narrow brows that my

words were causing him the utmost consternation. My object was to make

him believe that I knew more than I really did--to hold him in fear, in

fact.

"Perhaps the man whom some know as Hornby, or Woodroffe, could tell an

interesting story," I went on. "He will, no doubt, when he meets Elma

Heath, and finds the terrible affliction of which she has been the

victim."

His thin, bony countenance was bloodless, his mouth twitched and his

gray brows contracted quickly.

"I haven't the least idea what you mean, my dear sir," he stammered.

"All that you say is entirely enigmatical to me. What have I to do with

this mad Englishwoman's affairs?"

"Send out this man," I said, pointing to the detective Malkoff, who had

appeared from behind the paneling of the audience-chamber. "Send him

out, and I will tell you."

But the representative of the Czar, always as much in dread of

assassination as his imperial master, refused. I saw that what I had

said had upset him, and that he was not at all clear as to how much or

how little of the true facts I knew.

The connection between the little miniature cross of the Order of St.

Anne and that red and yellow ribbon in his button-hole struck me

forcibly at that moment, and I said:

"I have no desire to make any statements before a second person. I came

here to see you privately, and in private will I speak. I have certain

information that will, I feel confident, be of the utmost interest to

you--concerning another woman, Armida Santini."

His lips were pressed together, and I noticed how he started when I

uttered the name of that woman whom I had found dead in Rannoch Wood,

and whose body had so mysteriously disappeared.

"And what on earth can the woman concern me?" he asked, with a brave

attempt to remain cool, still speaking in French.

"Only that you knew her," was my brief reply. Then, with my eyes still

fixed upon his, I asked: "Will you not now request this gentleman to

retire?"

He hesitated a moment, and then with a wave of his hand dismissed the

man he had summoned to his aid. A moment later the "Strangler's"

personal protector had disappeared through that secret door in the

paneling by which he had entered.

"Well?" asked the Baron, turning quickly to me again, his dark, evil

eyes trying to fathom my intentions.

"Well?" I asked. "And what, pray, can you profit by denouncing me as an

assassin? Remember, Baron, that your secret is mine," I said in a clear

voice full of meaning.

"And your intention is blackmail--eh?" he snapped, walking to the window

and back again. "How much do you want?"

"My intention is nothing of the kind. My object is to avenge the

outrageous injury to Elma Heath."

"Of course. That is only natural, m'sieur, if you have fallen in love

with her," he said. "But are not your intentions somewhat ill-advised

considering her position as a criminal lunatic?"

"She is neither," I protested quickly.

"Very well. You know better than myself," he laughed. "The offense for

which she was condemned to confinement in a fortress was the attempted

assassination of Madame Vakuroff, wife of the General commanding the

Uleaborg Military Division."

"Assassination!" I cried. "Have you actually sent her to prison as a

murderess?"

"I have not. The Criminal Court of Abo did so," he said dryly. "The

offense has since been proved to have been the outcome of a political

conspiracy, and the Minister of the Interior in Petersburg last week

signed an order for the prisoner's transportation to the island of

Saghalien."

"Ah!" I remarked with set teeth. "Because you fear lest she shall write

down your secret."

"You are insulting! You evidently do not know what you are saying," he

exclaimed resentfully.

"I know what I am saying quite well. You have requested her removal to

Saghalien in order that the truth shall be never known. But Baron

Oberg," I added with mock politeness, "you may do as you will, you may

send Elma Heath to her grave, you may hold me prisoner if you dare, but

there are still witnesses of your crime that will rise against you."

In an instant he went ghastly pale, and I knew that my blind shot had

struck its mark. The man before me was guilty of some crime, but what it

was only Elma herself could tell. That he had had her arrested for an

attempted political assassination only showed how ingeniously and

craftily the heartless ruler of that ruined country had laid his plans.

He feared Elma, and therefore had conspired to have her sent out to that

dismal penal island in the far-off Pacific.

"You do not fear arrest, m'sieur?" he asked, as though with some

surprise.

"Not in the least--at least, not arrest by you. You may be the

representative of the Emperor in Finland, but even here there is justice

for the innocent."

A sinister smile played around the thin, gray lips of the man whose very

name was hated through the great empire of the Czar, and was synonymous

of oppression, injustice, and heartless tyranny.

"All I can repeat," he said, "is that if you bring the young

Englishwoman here I shall be quite prepared to hear her appeal." And he

laughed harshly.

"You ask that because you know it is impossible," I said, whereat he

again laughed in my face--a laugh which made me wonder whether Elma had

not already fallen into his hands. The uncertainty of her fate held me

in terrible suspense.

"I merely wish to impress upon you the fact that I have not the

slightest interest whatsoever in the person in question," he said

coldly. "You seem to have formed some romantic attachment towards this

young woman who attempted to poison Madame Vakuroff, and to have

succeeded in rescuing her from Kajana. You afterwards disregard the fact

that you are liable to a long term of imprisonment yourself, and

actually have the audacity to seek audience of me and make all sorts of

hints and suggestions that I have held the woman a prisoner for my own

ends!"

"Not only do I repeat that, Baron Oberg," I said quickly. "But I also

allege that it was at your instigation that in Siena an operation was

performed upon the unfortunate girl which deprived her of speech and

hearing."

"At my instigation?"

"Yes, at yours!"

He laughed again, but uneasily, a forced laugh, and leaned against the

edge of the big writing-table near the window.

"Well, what next?" he inquired, pretending to be interested in my

allegations. "What do you want of me?"

"I desire you to give the Mademoiselle Heath her complete freedom," I

said.

"Is that all?"

"All--for the present."

"But her future is not in my hands. The Minister in Petersburg has

decreed her removal to Saghalien as a person dangerous to the State."

"Which means that she will be ill-treated--knouted to death, perhaps."

"We do not use the knout in the Russian prisons nowadays," he said

briefly. "His Majesty has decreed its abolition."

"But you adopt torture in Kajana and Schusselburg instead."

"My time is too limited to discuss our penal system, m'sieur," he

exclaimed impatiently, while I could well see that he was anxious to

escape before I made any further charges against him. I had already

shown him that Elma had spoken, and he feared that she had told the

truth. While this would embitter him against her and cause him to seek

to silence her at all hazards, it was of course in my own interests that

he should fear any revelations that I might make.

"You have posed in England as the uncle of Elma Heath, and yet you here

hold her prisoner. For what reason?" I demanded.

"She is held prisoner by the State--for conspiracy against Russian

rule--not by herself personally."

"Who enticed her here? Why you, yourself. Who conspired to throw the

guilt of this attempted murder of the general's wife upon her? You--you,

the man whom they call 'The Strangler of Finland'! But I will avenge the

cruel and abominable affliction you have placed upon her. Her

secret--your secret, Baron Oberg--shall be published to the world. You

are her enemy--and therefore mine!"

"Very well," he growled between his teeth, advancing towards me

threateningly, his fists clenched in his rage. "Recollect, m'sieur, that

you have insulted me. Recollect that I am Governor-General of Finland."

"If you were Czar himself, I should not hesitate to denounce you as the

tyrant and mutilator of a poor defenseless woman."

"And to whom, pray, will you tell this romantic story of yours?" he

laughed hoarsely. "To your prison walls below the lake at Kajana? Yes,

M'sieur Gregg, you will go there, and once within the fortress you shall

never again see the light of day. You threaten me--the Governor-General

of Finland!" he laughed in a strange, high-pitched key as he threw

himself into a chair and scribbled something rapidly upon paper,

appending his signature in his small crabbed handwriting.

"I do not threaten," I said in open defiance, "I shall act."

"And so shall I," he said with an evil grin upon his bony face as he

blotted what he had written and took it up, adding: "In the darkness

and silence of your living tomb, you can tell whatever strange stories

you like concerning me. They are used to idiots where you are going," he

added grimly.

"Oh! And where am I going?"

"Back to Kanaja. This order consigns you to confinement there as a

dangerous political conspirator, as one who has threatened me--it

consigns you to the cells below the lake--for life!"

I laughed aloud, and my hand sought my wallet wherein was that

all-powerful document--the order of the Emperor which gave me, as an

imperial guest, immunity from arrest. I would produce it as my

trump-card.

Next second, however, I held my breath, and I think I must have turned

pale. My pocket was empty! My wallet had been stolen! Entirely and

helplessly I had fallen into the hands of the tyrant of the Czar.

His own personal interest would be to consign me to a living tomb in

that grim fortress of Kajana, the horrors of which were unspeakable. I

had seen enough during my inspection of the Russian prisons as a

journalist to know that there, in strangled Finland, I should not be

treated with the same consideration or humanity as in Petersburg or

Warsaw. The Governor-General consigned me to Kajana as a "political,"

which was synonymous with a sentence of death in those damp, dark

_oubliettes_ beneath the water-dungeons every whit as awful as those of

the Paris Bastile.

We faced each other, and I looked straight into his gray, bony face, and

answered in a tone of defiance:

"You are Governor-General, it is true, but you will, I think, reflect

before you consign me, an Englishman, to prison without trial. I know

full well that the English are hated by Russia, yet I assure you that in

London we entertain no love for your nation or its methods."

"Yes," he laughed, "you are quite right. Russia has no use for an effete

ally such as England is."

"Effete or powerful, my country is still able to present an ultimatum

when diplomacy requires it," I said. "Therefore I have no fear. Send me

to prison, and I tell you that the responsibility rests upon yourself."

And folding my arms I kept my eyes intently upon his, so that he should

not see that I wavered.

"As for the responsibility, I certainly do not fear that, m'sieur," he

said.

"But the exposure that will result--are you prepared to face that?" I

asked. "Perhaps you are not aware that others beside myself--one other,

indeed, who is a diplomatist--is aware of my journey here? If I do not

return, your Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Petersburg will be pressed

for a reason."

"Which they will not give."

"Then if they do not, the truth will be out," I said laughing harshly,

for I saw how determined he had become to hold me prisoner. "Come, call

up your myrmidon and send me to Kajana. It will be the first step

towards your own downfall."

"We shall see," he growled.

"Ah! you surely do not think that I, after ten years' service in the

British diplomatic service, would dare to come to Finland upon this

quest--would dare to face the rotten and corrupt officialdom which

Russia has placed within this country--without first taking some

adequate precaution? No, Baron. Therefore I defy you, and I leave

Helsingfors to-night."

"You will not. You are under arrest."

I laughed heartily and snapped my fingers, saying:

"Before you give me over to your police, first telegraph to your

Minister of Finance, Monsieur de Witte, and inquire of him who and what

I am."

"I don't understand you."

"You have merely to send my name and description to the Minister and ask

for a reply," I said. "He will give you instructions--or, if you so

desire, ask his Majesty yourself."

"And why, pray, does his Majesty concern himself about you?" he asked,

at once puzzled.

"You will learn later, after I am confined in Kajana and your secret is

known in Petersburg."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," I said, "I mean that I have taken all the necessary steps to

be forearmed against you. The day I am incarcerated by your order, the

whole truth will be known. I shall not be the sufferer--but you will."

My words, purposely enigmatical, misled him. He saw the drift of my

argument, and being of course unaware of how much I knew, he was still

in fear of me. My only uncertainty was of the actual fate of poor Elma.

My wallet had been stolen--with a purpose, without a doubt--for the

thief had deprived me of that most important of all documents, the open

sesame to every closed door, the ukase of the Czar.

"You defy me!" he said hoarsely, turning back to the window with the

written order for my imprisonment as a political still in his hand. "But

we shall see."

"You rule Finland," I said in a hard tone, "but you have no power over

Gordon Gregg."

"I have power, and intend to exert it."

"For your own ruin," I remarked with a self-confident smile. "You may

give your torturers orders to kill me--orders that a fatal accident

shall occur within the fortress--but I tell you frankly that my death

will neither erase nor conceal your own offenses. There are others, away

in England, who are aware of them, and who will, in order to avenge my

death, speak the truth. Remember that although Elma Heath has been

deprived of both hearing and of speech, she can still write down the

true facts in black and white. The Czar may be your patron, and you his

favorite, but his Majesty has no tolerance of officials who are guilty

of what you are guilty of. You talk of arresting me!" I added with a

smile. "Why, you ought rather to go on your knees and beg my silence."

He went white with rage at my cutting sarcasm. He literally boiled over,

for he saw that I was quite cool and had no fear of him or of the

terrible punishment to which he intended to consign me. Besides which,

he was filled with wonder regarding the exact amount of information

which Elma had imparted to me.

"There are certain persons," I went on, "to whom it would be of intense

interest to know the true reason why the steam-yacht _Lola_ put into

Leghorn; why I was entertained on board her; why the safe in the

British Consulate was rifled, and why the unfortunate girl, kept a

prisoner on board, was taken on shore just before the hurried sailing of

the vessel. And there are other mysteries which the English police are

trying to solve, namely, the reason Armida Santini and a man disguised

as her husband died in Scotland at the hand of an assassin. But surely I

need say no more. It is surely sufficient to convince you that if the

truth were spoken, the revelations would be distinctly awkward."

"For whom?" he asked, opening his eyes.

"For you. Come, Baron," I said, "can we not yet speak frankly?"

But he was silent for a moment, a fact which was in itself proof that my

pointed argument had caused him to reconsider his intention of sending

me under escort back to that castle of terror.

If my journey there was in order to meet my love, I would not have

cared. It was the ignorance of her whereabouts or of her fate that held

me in such deep, all-consuming anxiety. Each hour that passed increased

my fond and tender affection for her. And yet what irony of

circumstance! She had been cruelly snatched from me at the very moment

that freedom had been ours.

I think it was well that I assumed that air of defiance with the man who

had ground Finland beneath his heel. He was unused to it. No one dared

to go against his will, or to utter taunt or threat to him. He was

paramount, with all the powers of an emperor--the power, indeed, of life

and death. Therefore he was not in the habit of being either thwarted or

criticised, and I could see that my words had aroused within him a

boiling tumult of resentment and of rage. I told him nothing of the loss

of my wallet or of the precious document that it had contained. My

defiance was merely upon principle.

"Arrest me if you like. Denounce me by means of any lie that arises to

your lips, but remember that the truth is known beyond the confines of

the Russian Empire, and for that reason traces will be sought of me and

full explanation demanded. I have taken precaution, Xavier Oberg," I

added, "therefore do your worst. I repeat again that I defy you!"

He paced the big room, his thin claw-like hands still clenched, his

yellow teeth grinding, his dark, deep-set eyes fixed straight before

him. If he had dared, he would have struck me down at his feet. But he

did not dare. I saw too plainly that even though my wallet was gone I

still held the trump-card--that he feared me.

The mention I had made of the Minister of Finance, however, seemed to

cause him considerable hesitation. That high official had the ear of the

Emperor, and if I were a friend there might be inquiries. As I stood

before him leaning against a small buhl table, I watched all the complex

workings of his mind, and tried to read the mysterious motive which had

caused him to consign poor Elma to Kajana.

He was a proud bully, possessing neither pity nor remorse, an average

specimen of the high Russian official, a hide-bound bureaucrat, a slave

to etiquette and possessing a veneer of polish. But beneath it all I saw

that he was a coward in deadly fear of assassination--a coward who

dreaded lest some secret should be revealed. That concealed door in the

paneling with the armed guard lurking behind was sufficiently plain

evidence that he was not the fearless Governor-General that was

popularly supposed. He, "The Strangler of Finland," had crushed the

gallant nation into submission, ruining their commerce, sapping the

country by impressing its youth into the Russian army, forbidding the

use of the Finnish language, and taxing the people until the factories

had been compelled to close down while the peasantry starved. And now,

on the verge of revolt, there had arisen a band of patriots who resented

ruin, and who had already warned his Majesty by letter that if Baron

Oberg were not removed from his post he would die.

These and other thoughts ran through my mind in the silence that

followed our heated argument, for I saw well that he was in actual fear

of me. I had led him to believe that I knew everything, and that his

future was in my hands, while he, on his part, was anxious to hold me

prisoner, and yet dared not do so.

My wallet had probably been stolen by some lurking police-spy, for

Russian agents abound everywhere in Finland, reporting conspiracies that

do not exist and denouncing the innocent as "politicals."

The Baron had halted, and was looking through one of the great windows

down upon the courtyard below where the sentries were pacing. The palace

was for him a gilded prison, for he dared not go out for a drive in one

or other of the parks or for a blow on the water across to Hogholmen or

Dagero, being compelled to remain there for months without showing

himself publicly. People in Abo had told me that when he did go out into

the streets of Helsingfors it was at night, and he usually disguised

himself in the uniform of a private soldier of the guard, thus escaping

recognition by those who, driven to desperation by injustice, sought his

life.

A long silence had fallen between us, and it now occurred to me to take

advantage of his hesitation. Therefore I said in a firm voice, in

French--

"I think, Baron, our interview is at an end, is it not? Therefore I wish

you good-day."

He turned upon me suddenly with an evil flash in his dark eyes, and a

snarling imprecation in Russian upon his lips. His hand still held the

order committing me to the fortress.

"But before I leave you will destroy that document. It may fall into

other hands, you know," and I walked towards him with quick

determination.

"I shall do nothing of the kind!" he snapped.

Without further word I snatched the paper from his thin white fingers

and tore it up before his face. His countenance went livid. I do not

think I have ever seen a man's face assume such an expression of

fiendish vindictiveness. It was as though at that instant hell had been

let loose within his heart.

But I turned upon my heel and went out, passing the sentries in the

ante-room, along the flower-filled corridors and across the courtyard to

the main entrance where the gorgeous concierge saluted me as I stepped

forth into the square.

I had escaped by means of my own diplomacy and firmness. The Czar's

representative--the man who ruled that country--feared me, and for that

reason did not hold me prisoner. Yet when I recalled that evil look of

revenge on my departure, I could not help certain feelings of grave

apprehension arising within me.

Returning to my hotel, I smoked a cigar in my room and pondered. Where

was Elma? was the chief question which arose within my mind. By

remaining in Helsingfors I could achieve nothing further, now that I had

made the acquaintance of the oppressor, whereas if I returned to Abo I

might perchance be able to obtain some clue to my love's whereabouts. I

call her my love because I both pitied and loved the poor afflicted girl

who was so helpless and defenseless.

Therefore I took the midnight train back to Abo, arriving at the hotel

next morning. After an hour's rest I set out anxiously in search of

Felix, the drosky-driver. I found him in his log-built house in the

Ludno quarter, and when he asked me in I saw, from his face, that he had

news to impart.

"Well?" I inquired. "And what of the lady? Has she been found?"

"Ah! your Excellency. It is a pity you were not here yesterday," he said

with a sigh.

"Why? Tell me quickly. What has happened?"

"I have been assisting the police as spy, Excellency, as I often do, and

I have seen her."

"Seen her! Where?" I cried in quick anxiety.

"Here, in Abo. She arrived yesterday morning from Tammerfors accompanied

by an Englishman. She had changed her dress, and was all in black. They

lunched together at the Restaurant du Nord opposite the landing stage,

and an hour later left by steamer for Petersburg."

"An Englishman!" I cried. "Did you not inform the Chief of Police,

Boranski?"

"Yes, your Excellency. But he said that their passports being in order

it was better to allow the lady to proceed. To delay her might mean her

rearrest in Finland," he added.

"Then their passports were viséd here on embarking?" I exclaimed. "What

was the name upon that of the Englishman?"

"I have it here written down, Excellency. I cannot pronounce your

difficult English names." And he produced a scrap of dirty paper whereon

was written in a Russian hand the name--

"Martin Woodroffe."