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.