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Price 35 cents a box. ^ New York Depot, 365 Canal St. 3 f 4 ■i ;^3 'M W!» 4fr '/W" W" "W ^ L BOX." *' , ETC. tal Organs, ig long lost ;en Edge of OSEBUD OF Tgy of the idmitted by ;y. Largest 9 Coating. nts a box. 9 al St. 3 ^. -■"^ [^i'/- '*'' >> UNDER SEALED ORDERS GRANT ALLEN t^ r IN TWO FARTS— PART ONE Entered EL^coidicg to Act of Conerreas, in the year 1B94, by PlTIR Fehilon Coluek In Um Office ol tbs Librarian of Counrress at Waablnston. >C^M^^- '^^-^-i^C^, ^ ^^. Like a Novel is the story of the way people gain Flesh and Strength and recov- er from Coughs, Colds and Lung Diseases by taking p -, •cott s mulsion of Cod- Liver Oil, with hypophos- phites of lime and soda. No mys- tery about it, however; simply -a food rich in nourishment, PhyaioisULB, the world over, endorse it. When suffering from a weak, emaci- ated condition you should take Scott's Emulsion at once to avoid disease. Prepared by SGOTT & BOWNE, N.Y. Druggists sell it. el f people iid recov- id Lung P7, 1 lypophos- No mys- slmply -a ^hysiciam, t. ■k, eiuaci- ike Scott's ease. uggists sell It. jii-^^ 'jijfSm *cSL- UNDER .SEALED ORDERS. CHAPTER I. THE RED COTTAGE. At^l these fine things were to be seen in Saoha's 8tudio. Now Saoha's studio was allowed to be the pret- tiest room in all the house. Saoha said so her- self, indeed, and she was an authority on decora- tion. And she said the truth. Such u (jueer little lopsided, five-cornered, irregular nook of a room you never saw in all your life. It was built out from one angle of the external wall, and lighted up 'from the north aide by a big square bay-window, which projected cornervvise, anj'- how, into the lawn and orchard. It was quaint, because it never aimed at quaintness; it achieved it unconsciously. And the outlook was charm- ing, too, over the brook and the hillside: no more satisfying view, Sacha held, among the Surrey Hills than the larches above and the pear-trees below as seen across the foreground of lavender and poppies from her studio window-seat at the (3) t •. ■'h3.^. 5 ^i-jJiSbii. — itiUt^ wm OHDKRS Red Cottago. Throw in an easel or two, care- loHBly posed, a few soft liberty draperies, h Lewis Day wull-pa])er, an Oriental rug, a groat Japanese screen, and Aunt Julia's black silk gown (with Aunt Julia inside it) to give dignity to the fore- ground, and there, as well as this poor hand can draw it, you have a fair, rough sketch of Sacha Cazalet's Hauctum. "For my part," said Owen, straightening his arm and then bending it so as to display the biceps, "I shouldn't mind a little rain. The heavier the ground is the better my chances." Sacha looked up at him in his becoming run- ning suit — he'd been sitting, or, rather, posing, for her as joint winner at the tape in her spirited picture of "A Dead Heat: The Finish" — and she thought to herself as she looked, though he wan . her own brother, that a handsomer or finer-built or stronger-looking young man wasn't to be found that day in the length and breadth of England. She drew a deep breath, and added a delicate touch to the stiflfened muscle of the straining fore-arm. "But it'd be a pity," she said, stepping back a pace and surveying her own wark critically, •'if it rained while we're actually on the grounds to-morrow. You men have no thought. Con- sider our nice now gowns and hats and feathers." "It's a dreadful waste of time," Aunt Julia interposed, smoothing her immaculate white hair behind her blameless lace head-dress. "I shall be glad when it's all over, I'm sure, and you get back to your books again, Owen. Young lel or two, care- ttperios, B Lowia i groat Japanese lilk gown (witli nity to the for«- H poor hand can sketch of Sacha traightening his g to display tho ittle rain. Tho my chances." I becoming run- ■, rather, posing, )e in her spirited "iuish" — and she , though he was ner or finer-built •asn'ttobefound idth of England, idded a delicate of the straining d, stepping back W9rk critically, y on tho grounds ) thought. Gou- ts and feathers." mo," Aunt Julia culate white hair dress. "I shall In sure, and you Owen. YouDg UNDBR 8BALRD ORDERH. 6 men of twenty ought to have something else to busy themselves about in tho world, it seems t^) me, liesidos high-jumps, and hundred yards, and half-miles, and hurdle races. " Aunt Julia mentioned the very names of those offensive exercises with a certain high-sniffing dislike, and as if between unwilling (juotation marks. A model district visitor, Aunt Julia, if ever there was one: a distributer of tracts and good counsel gratis: a pillar of orthodoxy: a prop of the University Central African Mission. "Mr. Hay ward approves of them," Owen an- swered, with tho air of a man who stifles opposi- tion by citing a crushing authority. "I suppose you don't want mo to neglect Mr. Hay ward's wishes. He says, what he desires above all things is to see me a typical English gentleman. Now, there's nothing more English than ath- letics, you'll admit. Aunt Julia. He's olways delighted when he finds me going in hot and strong for cricket and football and boating. Be cosmopolitan in your ideas, he says to mo always, as cosmopolitan as you can make yourself ; but be English in your pursuits, your costume, your habits." "I don't think he need be much afraid of that,'" Sacha put in with a smile, washing her brush out in chloroform. "You're English to the backbone, Owen: I could tell by the very build and set of your limbs you had true English blood in you." "Well, if it rains to-night," Owen went on, releasing himself from his fatiguing pose, and i ■,.^;m ' '•■. fl infDBR HBAI^RD ORDBIW. flinging himself ilown lik« a jouoff f?i»nt on the ca|MU"i(>iw wintlow-Hertt, "Tshftll pull «)flf the milo: uikI after all, thafw th« only eveut of the whole lot I roiiUy caro twoixiuco al)Oiit." Aunt Julia's ourioMity was so fully arouBCMi by hirt unoxi)ectetl avowal that who doipned for a noinout to display a pjwHinfjf interest in athleticH. 'Why, I thought," Hho criod, astoniahod, "you woro certain of the long jump, mid tho half mile, aud tho cricket ball." •'That's just it," Owen replied, stretching his lett arm in turn and then retracting it suddenly. "I'm siife as houses for those; and so I dpn't mind a bit about 'em. But I'm no good at all for tho mile, unless the gnmnd's heavy. On light ground, Charlie Skene's sure to beat mo. If it rains, there'll ho a good race— like Sacha's picture there — and that's just what I love: won by a ueck at the finish." Aud he glanced at his own shapely limbs on his sister's canvass with not unnatural approbation of her handicraft or her nioael. "Better go and put on your other clothes now," Aunt Julia remarked with an undercurrent of doubt. She was never quite suro-in her own mind whether it wua exactly right for Sncha to paint even her own brother, let alone the profes- sional mwlel, in so light and airy a costume; be- sides which, those short sleeves must be conduc- tive to rheumatism. Aunt Julia pinned her faith on tho protective virtues of red flannel. If she'd had her own way, she'd have cased Owen from head to foot in that triple armor against assail- (KH. UMDHr SEALED URDRRH. n(iC ginnt on the all off the milf>: ut of the whole » ally rtrouHOii by I doigiied for a ■est in iithleticH. stoniahod, "you id tho half mile, I, Btretching his ing it suddenly, and HO I dgn't n no good at ull I'h heavy. On uro to beat me. ^e — like Sacha's liat I love : wcm e glanced at hin 'a oanvasB with r handicraft or )r clothes now," undercnrreitfc of arc- in her own 'ht for Sacha to done the profos- ■ a costume ; be- tnust be conduc- pinnodher faith iinnel. If she'd sed Owen from r against assail- inn chillH. But there! what can one do? Young people iiowi'dayH are so welf-willtMi ai.d olmtinato! Owen roHO from tho wimiow-fwvit and shook himself like a big dog just released from tho kon- nel. "Well, they are rather chilly to sit in," ho admitttMl, rt«iding Aunt Julia's mind— which, for tho rest, was an ojHjn book, with very few pages in it. "I don't mind if I do go and put on my toggeries. But I'll just take a sharp trot Hrst round tho meadows to warm mo." Ho stood with his hand on tho door, on the point of staniiig, when a timid knock outsido made him open it suddenly. Martha was stand- ing there with an envelope on the sal ver. A woll- truined servant, Martha; she knew it was as much as her place wt« worth to burst into tho studio without leu/e while Miss Sacha was paint- ing there. If there's anything on earth that's destructive to a work of art, in pigments or words, it's continual interruption in the midst of your working liours. And to disturb a model's pose, Sacha often remarked, is nothing short of criminal. "What is ity" Owen asked, taking the enve- lope from tho sal ver. "Telegram, sir," Martha replied. "Boy's waiting below in the 'all for the answer." Owen rojui it, and bit his lips. "Well, this is just annoying," he cried. "Who do you think's coming down? Mr. Hay ward himself— and at twelve o'clock to-morrow." A sudden sileuce fell all at once upon the little listening group. They looked at one another 8 UNDER SEALED ORDEBS. i 1^- and bit tlie^r lips in embarrassment. Clearly, some unexpected damper had been put at once iipou all Owen's plans. 8acha was the first to broak the awkward pause. "At twelve," she said musingly. "And the sports, I think, begin at ten, don't they?" "Nominally ten," Owen answered, still re- garding the telegram with a very rueful face; "but that always means practically half past ten or thereabouts. Punctuality 's a virtue that hasn't been evolved. They take such a prociouB long time clearing the course and so forth." Sta.cha consulted the card of the sports, and then the local time-table. " iiCj'd have time, if you liked, for the hundred yards, and perhaps the long-;;urap, too, before his train gets in," she said with as deep an interest aa if thousands weie at stake; "and even then you could go down to the train — in your flannels — to meet him. But you'd miss the mile, and that, you say, is the only even i: of the lot you care about. " Sacha had lived long enough in an athlete's family, you see, to know that "event" was the proper word to apply to these particular engagements. Aunt Julia beamed horror through her scanda- lized spectacles, "Why, you don't mean to say, ^ Sacha," she cried, with what breath she could, muster up from the depths of her outraged bosom, "you thought Owen might go down to meet Mr. Hay ward at t he Moor Hill Station in those dread- ful racy things!" Sacha gazed up at her blandly. "Yes, I did, auntie," she answered, in that calm, soft voice ORDERS. Tassment. Clearly, id been put at once icha was the first to "At twelve," she ports, I think, begin answered, still re- a very rueful face; tactically half past ality 's a virtue that take such a precious e and so forth." I of the sports, and ' ifcu'd have time, if yards, and perhaps is train gets in," she aQ if thousands wei e ou could go down to -to meet him. But hat, you say, is the care about." Sacha an athlete's family, ont" was the proper cular engagements, through her scanda- u don't mean to say, at breath she could her outraged bosom, ^o down to meet Mr. tation in those dread- andly. "Yes, I did, that calm, soft voice UNDER SEALED ORDERS. of hers. "That was exactly my idea. Why not? They're so becoming." The waut of rev- erence for their elders in young people nowadays is jjositively something little short of appal- ling. > Aunt Julia gasped. "Go .... down .... to the station .... in those clothes!" she re- peated, feebly gazing at Owen, open-mouthed. "Oh, Sacha, how can you?" Owen watched his sister's face askance, to see what she'd answer. But that imperturbable young lady had made her mind up by this time. "No, you'd better not go, my dear," she said, promptly, after a short pause for consideration, "Don't be at the station at all. liun your races exactly a.s if nothing had happened. Mr. Hay- ward'U be pleased that you've trained and gone in for so many prizes. There's nothing he likes better than seeing you a thorough Englishman. Never mind about him. I'll run down to meet him myself, and bring him up to the field to you." "Sacha!" Aunt Julia ejaculated once more. It was all she could say. The situation was too dreadful. Words failed her to express her- self. But her niece was not a young woman to be turned from her purpose by the interjeotional application of her own Christian name. She knew it already. She was three years older than Owen, and her character was more formed ; besides, she was a professional artist, and earned her own living. Your independent woman is a ««i^iSsi;^K^^3SS3^ ■i|i*#»M«?'V.»**^ij*?^ ■ ' ' :* UNDRR SEALED ORDERI9. feature of this age. She has acquired initiative. She thinks and acts for herself, without the need for a father, a husband, or a brother to lean upon. "Martha," the independent woman said, brisk- ly, turning round to the maid, "bring me a tele- graph form from the dining-room. " And Martha flew down for it like one who knew that Miss Sacha at least would not be kept waiting. I - - The mistress of the studio sat down at her desk and filled it in. "Delighted to see you to- morrow. Owen busy athletics. Will meet you at station myself, unless rain. Wire back if you wish Owen to stop away. — Sacha Cazalet." She handed it across to her brother. "Will that do?" she said, quietly. Owen stepped nearer and kissed her. "You are a brick, Sacha," he said, "and no mistake. How splendidly you manage things! That's just the way to lo it." "For my part," Aunt Julia observed, glanc- ing over hie shoulder through her spectacles with the disapproving eye before which many a beer- absorbing laborer in the village had quailed in his shoes, "I call it exceedingly 'disrespectful from a boy like Owen to a man in Mr. Hay- ward's position." "Oh, he won't mind," Sacha answered, like bni> who knows her ground. "He's a very odd marj, of course. And he demands obedience. But he goes in above everything for making Owen athletic. It's the spirit, not the letter, Mr. Hayward cares about. He'll be delightec^ UNDEB SEALED ORtkEKS. 11 quired initiative, svithoiit the need brother to lean kmansaid, brisk- ' bring me a tele- 1." And Martha knew that Miss ; waiting, sat down at her jd to see you to- Will meet you Wire back if you a Cazalet." brother. "Will en stepped nearer le said, "and no manage things! observed, glanc- >r spectacles with ich many a beer- ^e had quailed in jly 'disrespectful an in Mr. Hay- a answered, like 'He's a veiy odd lands obedience, ing for making b, not the letter, ?'ll be delighte'".■ , A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR. As the twelve-four train steamed into Moor Hill Station next morning Sacha was there, to her word, in good time to meet it. A handsome, upstanding, self-contained sort of a girl, Sacha Cazalet, not unworthy in physique to be a crack athlete's sister. As she stood there on the plat- form in her soft, artistic' dress and her wide- brimmed Rubens hat, with the calm, strong face beneath it, she looked as if she might have stepped that moment straight out of one of her own graceful and earnest pictures. ^ The train pulled up with a jerk. "Mer-ill, Mer-ill, Mer-ill!" cried the porters, in chorus^ in their accustomed shorthand ; and a passenger or two, divining by good chance that these caba- listic sounds represeaied Moor Hill in the ver- nacular tongue, descended slowly from the car- riages, with bags, rugs and bundles. Among them was one noticeable man in a rough tweed suit— tall, thin, and time-worn, but a typical aristocrat as to mien and features, with a clear- cut, statuesque, intellectual face, clean-shaven m 12 UNDER SEALED ORDERS, I «» » £■ all over bat for its heavy black mustaches. He came down, it is true, in a third-class carriage; Hiui he had nothing in his hand but a stout, un- trimmed stick, which he had evidently cut for himself on some blackthorn - covered common; but he was uouo the less a gentleman confessed, for all that : blue blootl shone clear in his face, his walk, his tone, his gestures. The noticeable man took Sacha's hand cor- dially with a certain stately condescension, yet as one who liked her. "So you came to meet me, Alexandra?" he said, smiling. "That was awfuHy good of you. Your plan, of course. You did quite right to let Owen gj off to his sports unmolested. I appre- ciated your telegram. But, there! — that's your way: you can always be depended upon." "I wish you wouldn't call me Alexandra," the girl answered, with a little shudder, yet taking his hand as cordially as he gave it. "You know I hate the name. I always so much prefer to be known as Sapaa." Mr. Hay ward turned toward the gate and gave up his ticket. ' ' Alexandra's so much better, though, ' ' he said, slowly, in his soft, musical voice. "It's good English now — since a princess brought it over. All English names come across to us in the last resort with a prince or princess. We haven't got a native one. William and Henry and John and Eobert came over with the Conqueror; Ear- nest and Augustus and Caroline and Sophia came over with the Georges ; Alexandra and Olga and KRS. UNDER SBALED. ORDBKB. 13 mustaches. He l-class carriage; but a stout, «n- vidently cut for >vered common; sman confessed, ilear in his face, cha's hand cor- ndescension, yet Alexandra?" he iHy good of you. i quite right to Jested. I appre- ire! — that's your ed upon." Alexandra," the idder, yet taking it. "You know auch prefer to be ;he gate and gave ;hough, " he said, ice. "It's good brought it over, to us in the last js. We haven't Henry and John Conqueror; Ear- and Sophia came [ra and Olga and Christian and Dagmar came over with 'he very latest royal importations. But English snobbery seizes ofl them and adopts thern at once. That's the English fashion. Whereas Sacha carries date, as you say about your gowns. People are sure to inquire when they hear it in what country of Europe Sacha's short for Alexandra. And that — " he paused a second -"would interfere with my views for Owen's luture." " I prefer the name I've always been called by myself," Sacha interposed quietly, and then dosed her lips short. It wa" -^^amond against diamond with those two : each firm as a rock in liis own fixed opinions. Mr. Hayward answered nothing — at least, not directly. "Owen Cazalet," he murmured, with ;i sigh, as if half to himself, rolling it over on his tongue: "Owen Cazalet, OwenCazalet. Couldn't have anything that would sound much more British than that, I flatter myself. Though (Owen's Welsh, to be sure, when one goes to the bottom of things, and Cazalet's Huguenot. But British enough as times go nowadays — British enough, Owen Cazalet." "For myself, I confess, if it weren't for busi- ness purposes," Sacha replied obliquely, "I nhould much prefer in many ways my own fam- ily name. I hate disguises. But of course as I've got to bo known now as Sacha Cazalet to picture-buyers and publishers, I must stick to it for the future. As an illustrator, my practice depends largely on the name. It's a good trade- mark for the purpose, thank Heaven: distine- 14 UXDBR SBALED ORDEKS. tive and striking. And I can't change it now, unless some amiable young man chooses to offei' me his, which doesn't seem likely iu the present state of society." •'Well, I'm glad you can't cliauge it, my child," Mr. Hay ward said, not unkindly, looking down at her with eyes of unfeigned admiration. He was old enough to be her father, and he spoke to her always with a certain ofd-fashioned paternal courtesy, much as a Louis Quinze mar- quis of the stately-type might have spoken before the court to mademoiselle his daughter. "It would be a pity if any such supgestion of un- Englisli antecedents were to stand in the way of my plans for your brother's advancement." "It would," Sacha replied. "I admit ib. I acquiesce in it." They walked on together to the cricket-field whore the spoi-ts were to be held, Mr. Hayward stopping every now and then with genuine de- light in the country to admire some pretty spray of young bramble or cluster of hurt's tongue in the hedgerow. He had an artist's eye for nat- like Sacha's own. The tangled richness of ure. the stitchworts and red-robbins by .the wayside seemed to charm and impress him. "It's sweet country," he said at last, pausing and gazing deep into the recesses of the bush-grown bank. "What exquisite depths of shnde! What luB-' cious richness of foliage." "Yes," Sacha replied, in the same tone; "such a struggle for life, too, isn't it? Each fighting for his own hand 1 Each craning and change it now, chooses to offei' y iu the present cliaiige it, my ikindly, looking lied admiration, father, and he in ofd-fashioned ais Quinze mar- -^0 spoken before daughter. "It pgestion of un- id in the way of .ncement." '•I admit ik I the cricket-field I, Mr. Hayward ith genuino de- ►me pretty spray tiurt's tongue in st's eye for nat- igled richness of by .the wayside m. "It's sweet ing and gazing ish-growii bank, ide! What luB-' ;he same tone; isn't it? Each ich craning and i-^&M tTNDBR SEALED ORDERS. 15 straining to overtop the other 1 Like the world we live in." "As it stands now," Mr. Hay ward assentetl gravely; "a tangled maze — a mere unorganized thicket. Yet some day it might become an or- dered and orderly garden." "That w-ould be sj much less picturesque, though!" Sacha suggested, sighing. 'Less picturesque? Yos, perhaps," Mr. Hay- ward cried, like one who sees some vision of de- light. "But oh, Sacha, what of that? More useful and more hopeful." As they reached the cricket-field, Sacha llanced round for a moment to see where, among the crowd of spectators, Aunt Julia was seated. Her quick eye soon picked out the im- maculate white hair among a little group of local dignitaries near the center by the pavilion. Ml*. Hayward advanced and lifted his hat to Miss Cazalet, with that indescribablt air o* courtly chivalry that was wellnigh inseparable from his smallest action. Aunt Julia recei ved the bow with mingled respect and distant disap- probation. A strange sort of man, Mr. Hay- ward, not to be counted upon in some things — quite a gentleman in every sense of the word, of course— but somehow, to Aunt Julia's district- visiting type of mind, extremely awe-inspiring and not a little uncanny. She was never quite sure, if the truth must be told, as to Mr. Hay- ward's principles. And principles were to Aunt Julia, as to the British matron in general, ob- jects of a distinct and almost idolatrous reverence. 3 \ " 16 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. Mr. Hayward joined the group, and fell into the converuatiou nt once with the practiced skill of u man of the world. They wore discussing "that daugorous book," "A Rural Idyll," by Margaret Forbes, which. Aunt Julia considered, " undermintAl the very ground- work of our so- cial morality." Lady Beaumont, the county member's wife, lolling bai-k on her chair, gave a languid asse«t. She'd road the story herself, and only remembered now she'd found it interesting. But as Miss Cazalet diwipproved of it, Avhy, of course, hs politeness tiemanded, she disapproved in concert. It was Miss Forbes they were talking about? Mr. Haywurd asked, smiling curiously. Ah, yes, a ver}' clever woman, too, and a bishop's daughter! What an irony of fate ! He'd heard one or two good stories in town about her. Mrs. Forbes, the Bishopess, was quite proud of the book's succor; b.it, as her daughter remarked, "If I hadn't written it, mamma wouldn't have touched it with a pair of tongn, you know." He knew her then, Lady Beaumont suggested with a careless interest, from the chair beside Aunt Julia's. Mr. Hayward waved a graceful and half de- precatory negative. No, he didn't exactly know her — that's to say, not as on visiting terms-^but from time to time he ran up against her in Lou- don drawing-rooms. 8ooner or later, in fact, one ran up against almost everybody worth knowing in any way. London's so small, you see; and the world's so shrunken nowadays. IRH. UNDER 8BALKI> ORDKR8. 17 p, and fell into ) practiced skill ivere discuseiug .ral Idyll," by Lilia considered, vork of our so- membor's wife, hinguid assent, ily remembered But as Miss , of course, «9 >ved in concett. talking about? uriously. Ah, and a bishop's e ! He'd heard bout her. Mrs. 3 proud of the ;hter remarked, t wouldn't have rou know." mont suggested he chair beside ul and half de- .'t exactly know ting terms— but inst her in Lou- iter, in fact, ono worth knowing 11, you see; and ys. Lady Beaumont glanced the mute inquiry with her languishing eyes: "And pray, who's your fine friend?" Aunt Julia introlaze of color in Prado. Was it escribing for the enture in a gon- dola with the eHtan prima donna, h(^ divergtxl into a Utile private diHtjuisition behind on the mowiioM of St. Mark'H t^nd the Athenian lion i^ the gate of the Arsenal. Altogether, "a most well-informed man of the world," Lady Beaumont thought to her- self; "quite an acciuisition for thf day in our s(v:ioty at Moor Hill, in spite of IiIh principlrw, " Aunt Julia reHocted inwardly; and "What a pity he wastes hip. talents so," Sacha meditated with regret. But sho was wrong for all that; ho WfiHu't wasting them; not a bit of it. That was iiis rdle in lifd To be all things to all men, and all women, too, bettering oven the comprehensive apostolic injunction, war; the secret of his pio- fossion. At last there came a ptiUHe,,a sudden break in the fl jwing current. The mile was now on ; and St'<"ha saw for herself that all the while, amid his <,'os8ip, though Mr. Hayward was so fluent cf varied exporionoes in all corners of Europe, his eyes had none the less followed Owen perpetu- ally round the field with qiiite as much •-. -jer- ness and constancy an her own had done. At the finish, he Ijent his head forward for a moment in imxiety, then sprang from his chair in his joy. "Bravo, bravo!" he cried, clapping his hands with unaffected delight as the tape fell forward. "Owen wins! Owen wins! Well done, my boy ! Well done ! You must be proiid of him, Miss Cazalet. A splendid race and just carried by a fine spurt. I never saw anything better in to UNDKK HRAl.KU ORDERS. my life tlinn tb(« inHgnificent wuy he did tboeo liiHt ton y»irrd« inl" Hu But down Hgnin, ciuitu iluHhed with vicari- ouH pride in his ward'H huccohh. IUh Uw.o whh beiiniin^. "I wiuh I'd i>ruught my littiu Huap ctunoru witii mo," lio cried, "to take an inHtan- tauoouH of that Html dnsh-in. It was ho boauti- ful — HO porfoot. Tho action of that boy's limbH, liko a thorouglibri»d mcor'a— vhy, it'u just a picture to look at." At tho wordH, Lady Beaumont rained the class outrage on(;o more, and t:M)k a Hucond long stany Btaro at tho well-informed Htranjjfer. Could it bo? No, impoHHiblo! But yos, she waH sure of it. She couldn't bo mistaken now. ShoM suspected it from the very first, and in thone words the man himself mmunicativo man. If you want to know all about him, why not ask him direct? You did, you know, about the photographer's shop iu Bond Street." " ^ v /" ... Lady Beaumont looked up at her with a face of iripassive scrutiny. For so young "a woman, this painting girl, was really most self-paisessed. But the county member's wife was not to be sat upon by an artist, however large and well-built. "Owen's going into the diplomatic service, I think Miss Cazalet told me," she began again after a strategic pause. "Into the diplomatic service. Yes. If he can f^et in," Sacha admitted grudgingly; for she hated to let out any further information. Lady Beaumont poked her parasol into the turf at her feet and egged out a root of grass or two in a meditative fashion. "It's a curious service for a young man to go in for, unless he'ti really rich, or at the very least has expectations in the future," she remarked in the air, ab- stractedly. "They get no pay at all, you know, for the first two or three years; and they must spend more as aWacftc's than their salary amounts to." 38 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. "So I believe," Sacha replied, without remov- ing a muscle of that handsome round face of hers. "It's a service for rich young men, I'vo always been given to understand. A career, not a livelihood. Honor and glory, not filthy lucre." "Then why does Owen go in for it?" Lady Beaumont asked, straight out, with that persist- ent inquisitiveness which some women of the world think so perfectly becoming. "I don't know," Sacha replied. "He is of Hge. Ask him. Perhaps it may be because Mr. Hay ward wishes it." "Oh!" Lady Beaumont said shortly. She'd got what she wanted now. A rich relation, no doubt, of whom they were all ashamed, and whose money they expected to get, while dis- owning his business. The talk glided off by degrees into other chan- nels. By-and-by Aunt Julia and Mr. Hayward returned. They brought with them a third per- son — that Brazilian from Bahia with the very curly hair who was stopping with the Fergus- sons at Ashley Towers. Mr. Hayyard was dis- coursing with him in very fluent French. At that, Lady Beaumont pricked her ears up to hear what he said. She couldn't follow it all — her ear for spoken French was still a trifle un- trained — but she heard a good deal, and took the rest in instinctively (which is why women learn languages so much quicker than men). "Perfect- ly, monsieur," the mysterious photographer was remarking in that clear bell-like voice of his. DBRS. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 39 , without remov- le rouud face of young men, I've baud. A career, glory, not filthy u for it?" Lady with that persist- le women of the ling. lied. "He is of ly bo because Mr. I shortly. She'd rich relation, no U ashamed, and 3 get, while dis- s into other cban- md Mr. Hayward fchem a third per- ia with the very with the Fergus- [ayY^'ard was dis- lent French. At i her ears up to a't follow it all — B still a trifle un- ieal, and took the ivhy women learn nmen). "Perfect- photographer was ilke voice of his. "This is an age of trains de luxe. To live in the world, to-day, yoa must follow the world as it flits, across four flying continents. It's a common British mistake of ours to suppose the universe stops short at the English Channel. Error, error, error. It even extends beyond Paris and Switzerland. Most Englishmen fancy they know the world if they know London, Brighton, Ascot, Scarborough, Newmarket. For my part, M. le Comte, early acquaintance with the continent saved me, happily, from that inexact idea. I know that if you want to keep up with the movement, you must march with it iis it marches— at Vichy to-day; at Baden-Baden to-morrow; at Nice, Monte Carlo, Pau, Carls- bad, the next day. So I took the hint and fol- lowed up your ex-emperor from Cannes to Al- giers, till I caught him at last on the slope of ^lustaphor Superieur." The rest, she couldn't hear. It was but a passing snatch as he strolled by her chair. But it was enough at least to impress Lady Beaumont profoundly with the sense of Mr. Hayward's prodigious mastery of collcquial French, and astonishing ease in fram- ing his thoughts into words in all languages equally. Was he a Frenchman, then, she wondered, and was that why his r's had that peculiar trill in them? To be sure, an acute Parisian' ear (like yours and mine, dear reader) might have noticed at once that as in English Mr. Hayward trilled his r's, so in French his art's, his eiVs and his o»'s 80 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. were very ill distindfiiished. But then, Lady Beaumont hadn't had our educiitionul advan- tHgcs. To hor dull English ear. his spoken Fiviich WHH exactly a Frenchman's. As she sat and jxindered, Owen strolled up to the ^roup looking jiflorious in his running clothes — a young Greek god, hot and flusheil fnmi his victories. Even on Sacha's placid face a ruddy spot of pleasure glowed bright as her brother drew near, like a statue come to life; while as for Mr. Hay ward, he stepped forward to meet the hero of the day with such graceful cordiality as a prince might show to one of his noblest sul)- jents. "My dear boy," he said, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder with a half cares-s- ing movement, "you won that mile splendidly. 'Twas a magnificent spurt. I was proud of ymi PH I looked at you, Owen; very proud of you an I looked at you." Lady Beaumont's steely eyes were turned on the pair, watching warily. "Thatik you, Mr. Hayward," the young man answered in a modest tone but with genuine pleasure, as an affectionate boy Qiight answer ins father. "If you're pleased, that's all I want. But. I hope you didn't mind my not meeting you at the station." "Mind!" Mr. Hayward repeated quickly. "Mind! Why, I should have been most grieved, my boy, if yoii'd missed one fraction of these sports ou my account. But Sacha knew best. One can always trust Sacha. She explained to me when we met, and I agreed with her en- >ER8. But then, Lady ucjitionul advan- ear, his spoken mn's. von strolled up to 8 running clothes I fluslieil from his acid face a ruddy t as her brother to life; while as rward to meet the eful cordiality as f his noblest sul)- , laying his hand ith a half caress- miio splendidly, was proud of yoii y proud of you as (8 were turned on " the young man but with genuine oy flaight answer that's all I want. my not meeting epeated quickly, leen most grieved, fraction of these 5acha knew best. She explained reed with her en- UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 81 tiroly. To see you win such a magnificent lot of prizes as this is all I ask of you." "But his work?" Aunt Julia suggested, aghast; "his books, his readiiig, Mr. Hayward? Don't you think these things tend to unsettle a young man tor examinations?" Mr. Hayward turned round ami gazetl blandly and benignly at her. "I should have read Owen's character very ill, indeed," ho said, with a curi- ous smile, "if I thought anything could unsettle iiira from a resolve once made. He's true as steel, is Owen. If you want men to do well, first begin by trusting them. That's the free- man's way. The other is both the curse and the nemesis of despotism." What a veiy odd man. Lady Beaumont the ught to herself; and how sententiously he spoke. What a bore, too, if you saw much of him. For women of Lady Beaumont's type invariably think anybody, a dreadful bore who makes a geuerab'zed remark, or who talks about any- thing else in heaven or earth but the gossip of the naiTow little set they mix in. . -•.-'.»' CHAPTER IV. ^i#-' • *y. DIPIiOMATIC DISCIPLINE. An hour or two later, they were taking tea to- gether in.Sacha's sacred studio, at the round table made out of the Cairene wood- work stand sur- 11 89 VNDKR SRALKD ORDBRS. mounted by the old M()oriH!i c-hiised brsiss tray tlmt Mr. Hnywiird had brouj^hthrr on one of his voynfft* to TuniH. Tho trHrtsuroH of tho housoboUl, indeeil, hud bet'n rHnHackeil to do honor to Mr. Hftywurd. Aunt Juliu had brought out the bo8t silver ton pot with the Caznlot arms on it, and tho Geargr tho Third ap/Stlo sjwons that belonged to her grandmother fifty yearrt ago in DevonHliire. Co«^k hud produced some of hor famous brown rollR, and had BurpHHsed hor well-known skill in the home-made msks and buttered Canadimi t<*H-oake.' Martha's little French cap was crimped and starched with unwonted c^re, and hor apron with the white laeo was oven mor;: spotless thau usual. Sachu herself had put the very daintiest of her sketches on tho easel by thf square bay window and festooned fresh Hprays of trailing clematis and long stems of wild br3'ony from the Venetian bowl in hammered copper that hung by a wrought-iron chain from a staple in the corner. The studio, in short, waa as pict- uresque as Sacha knew how to make it; for Mr. Hay ward's visits weio few and far.between, and all the household made the more of them for tho rarity of their occurrence. Yet a certain visible constraint brooded over the whole party none the less while they drank their tea out of Sacha's Satsuma cups, for it was an under- stood thing that Mr. Hay\vard never came down to Moor Hill except for some good and sufficient reason; and what that reason might be, nobody liked to ask him; though, till he chose to disclose , 1 W IW ' l i Hn^ i " "I m / ' ■ ! m » )BR8. UNDER SEALED 0HDER8. Iiiised briU99 tray hop on one of his i»lil, intleeil, hud ) Mr. Haywitrd. e boHt silver ton- and the Geargi belongeil to her in Devonshire. »r famous brown 11-known skill in ttered Canadiiui 'rench cap was /vonted cryl):>dy know beforohaud the plan he was ^')iiig to propose, "will you be ready to set out witli mo — to-morrow morning?" '/« ,s "Certainly," Owen answered at once, with a (,'roat air of alacrity. "To-night, if you like. I (':m go and pack my portmanteau this minute, if necessary. Or start without it." Mr. Hnyward smiled approval. "That's right," he said, nodding assent. "Quite right, as far as it goes, and shows promptitude in some ways. I'd half a mind to telegraph to you yes- terday to come up then and there, just to test your obedience. But I'm glad now I didn't. It would have grieved me to have done you out of this morning's triumphs. This is all so good for you." "If you had," Owen said simply, "I'd have come straight up, of course, though it would iiave been a wrench, I don't deny. But it's wrenches, after all, that are the true test of dis- cipline." Mr. Hayward smiled once more. "Quite so," he answered with evident pleasure. "You're a {,'ood -boy, Owen — a boy after my own heart. And in moat things, I approve of you. But re- member, point de zSle. Zeal often spoils every- thing. That was unnecessary that you said just uow, 'To-nightj if you like'; nobody asked you VNDBR SBALBD ORDBBM. I to j?() to-niKht. I Hrtiil, tivmorr»)«r morninf?. A wnll-trHiiit'd HuhordiimU) miMWiTH, •OorUunly; at whiit hoiiry' but nover HUKKCHtn to-night. That's U) piirt of hiH province." He pauHed for a mo mont and f/^n/xiA hard with w^arching eyes iil SiicliH. "ThoHothiniufH areimpi>rtnnt," hoaddml, miiHiiij;, "us diHinpUoHry preparation for the dip- loiiuitio Horvioo." ''».'•' -. 'Jf ;<^ "I'll romemobor it, Mr. Haywanl," Owoii aiiHWHrod mihTniftsivoly. "For tlie diphnnatic Bwrvico," Mr. Haywanl went on, "a man n(jedif», for the moHt fnirt, not. zeal, but discrotion. Zealous suboniinateH you can find any day in the »treetH by the dozen ; a dirtcireet one, you niny Hoaroh for over two-thinls of Europe. Obetlientre you've learned already, my boy; discretion you've gi>t to learn now. No oflPering to go and paek your portmanteau iit ,on(«; it isn't demanded of you; atill less with protostationa of willingnews to start withont one." He spoke austerely, bnt kindly, with a tender, fatherly ring in his voice, like one who wouM correct a fault without giving no^dloBS pain to the pupil. "T see," Owen answered, abashetl. "T was wrong, of eaurse. I ought to have gone without a portmanteau at once, if you summoned me; but not have effusively offered to go with- ont one when I wasn't called upon to do so." Mr. Hay ward's eyes sparkled with suppretiseil pride and pleasure. A very apt pupil, this, quick to accept reproof where he saw it was de- served, and to mend his ways accordingly. He ' ,j^^ta»«ife^£^feSla<^gfeft&iA^ ■? )KB». tNDlClt HKALED UKDERH. «0 i)wr morninff. A rt, •OorUunly; nf ;o-night. ThHt'-* pauHed for h mo ftrching eyetj iil rtfint," hoaddnd, utiun fur the (tip iiywranl," Owon ," Mr. HuywHftl ke inoHl: fxirt, not lubonHnateH yoii by the dozen; a r over two- thiols Irnnied already, >t to learn now. r portniitnt«'au at u; atill 1»!S8 with o start without y, with a tender, one who woiiM needless pain to Hwered, abashed. ight to have gano if you summoned ffered to go with- )on to do so. ' ' [ with suppresseil apt pupil, this, 16 saw it was de- iccordingly. He l;iid Hint friendly hand upon the young mtin's hhoiddtsr agiiiii. *'giiito right, Oweu," hn niid. " Voii'll niako a diplomat yet I .... Wu hIuiH WH him umbuswidor at Con.Htantinoplo boforo we (I in, MiHs C'azalct. . . . Hut you liavon't uHkud yet whoro you'ro to go to, uiy boy. Don't you want t) know about ity" Owon hcHitati'd a tnoiriout. "I thought dis- citlion dictati'd that I HJiould wait till T was t tid," h« aUHWortsd after a long pauso, during which HacJia's eyes wlto fixed firndy upon him. Tlio Bond Strotit ph )tograj»hor smiled that ;4iauge Hmilo of hucc(ihh and HatiHfi'u^tion onco more. "Riglit agnin, my boy," he waid, well pleasod. "Vou answer as you ought to do. Then you shall know your destination to- morrow evening." Aunt Julia gave a little start of surprise aud ivijrot. "But aren't we to know where he's go- iii(,', Mr. Hay ward!" she cried. "Aren't we to know where we can write to him!" Mr. Hayward turned round upon her with a coldly contemptuous look in his keen brown eyes. His manner toward Aunt Julia was always markedly different from his marmer to Owen and Sacha. Its stately courtesy never t^uite succeeded ill concealing the undercurrent of contempt for the district visitor within her. "It was in our bargain," he said, "Miss Cazalet — which Owen at loHst has always loyally kept — tliat I might take him for a mouth at a time, twice a year, when I chose, to live with me or travel with me where- ever I liked, in order to retain such a hold as I 86 UNDER BEA'-iCD ORDERS. desired both over his education and over his char- acter and aflfections. It was never specified that I should tell you beforehand when or where it Kuited me he should pass those two months with me. It was only arranged that at the end cf each such holiday I should restore liim once more to your own safe- keeping. Two months out of twelve is surely not excessive for mo to ask for myself — especially as Ow6n is happiest when he's away on his trips with me." The tears came up into Aunt Julia's eyes. Long since she had repented of that mo.st doubt- ful bargain. She ,even wondered at times whether Mr. Hayward was some modern em- bodiment of Mephistopheles, and whether bhc had sold Owen's soul to him, as Esau sold iiis birthright, for a mess of pottage. It frightene 1 iier when she heard him talk so much of nmnini; about Europe in trains de luxe. It reminded her always of the Book of Job, and of the High Personage who presented himself at the court of Heaven "from going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it." "I should certainly have liked to kuow when; Oweirwas likely to be,'* Aunt Julia murmureil. struggling liard with her voice and her teai - "It's a pull to give him up without even know ing whero he'i gone to." Ower. turned to her tenderly. "Well, but. Auntie," he said in hismajily voice, always full of English cheeriness, "j'ou know I won't got into any harm with Mr. Hayward ; and for my- self, I x-aally like best the element of adventure >RDERS. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 37 ti and over his char- never specified that when or where it 86 two months with tliat at the end cf restore him once ing. Two months (xcessive for mo to s Ow6n is happiest witli me." Aunt Julia's eyes, of that most doubt- irondered at times some modern eni- , and whether bIk- im, as Esau sold liis tage. It frightene 1 so much of running; luxe. It remindeii ob, and of the High aself at the court of fro in the earth, aiu] n it." liked to know whero nt Julia murmured, oice and her teair. vithout even know- lerly. "Well, but. ly voice, always full I know I won't get yward; and for my- Lement of adventure and surprise— the never knowing till I get there whore it is I'm going to." The love of adventure and surprise, however, is poorly developed in the British old maid or in the British matron. But Mr. Hay ward had car- ried his point, and could afford to relent now. "Go upstairs, Owen," he said, "and put your things together at once. I'm not sure, after all, I won't start off this evening." . .: " • "And we've got dinner for you, and every- thing!" Aunt Julia exclaimed appealiiigly. She'd made a cream pudding. Her housewifely heai-t WHS stirred to its depth by this bitter dis- appointment. But Owen ran upstairs with cheerful promp- titude. It was clear Mr. Haywai'd had a very lirm iiold over him — a hold gained not so much by command as by affection. As soon . s ho was gone, their visitor closed the door behind liim. "Miss Cazalet," he said ia that clear and very musical voice of his, "I'y.e never been un- reasonable. I made a bargain with you and Owen for Owen's clear advantage; but I've never abused it. "While he was at school, I took care not to break in upon his terms; I even al- lowed his schooling to take precedence of his ed- ucation; I only claimed him in the holidays, and then he learned more from me in these two short months than in the other ten from his Iwaks and his masters. Since he left school, I've been mote irregular, but always for a good reason. I've a good reason now, though I dca't choose to communicate it. ' However, I don't mind telling 38 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. \ you privately where I'm going, if you and Alex- andra — I beg your pardon, ny child ; Sacha, I mean — won't mention it to Owen btforo we start I'm contemplating a month's tour in the mountains of Morocco." Aunt Julia drew a deep breath of relief. Sho knew nothing about jMorocco, to be sure, except the l)are name; and she had a vague idea that tho majority of its inhabitants were engaged in the book-binding trade and th > ex >o^ntion of leather; but it /'as a comfort to uer, all the same, to know exactly on the map where Owen was going to. "Morocco," she reflected, much consoled. ^"Morocco. Morocco. And shall wo be able to write to him while he's gone? Will you give us your address there?" '■■ • "There'll be no address," Mi. Hay ward an- swered curtly. "No address of any sort." "Not evenooste restante?^^ Aunt Julia inter- posed. .,'.. ' - . ..■.'' Mr. Hay ward smiled, a bnmd smile. "Net iixan poste restafite,'" he replied, unbending iit the bare idea. "Wo shall be up in the moun- tains all the time, among pathless wilds, ar •' fa small native villages. Posts are unknown • . inns of any sort unheard of. I want to do b.;. photography of the untouched Moorish world, b> I shall make at once fur the remotest interior." "Owen will like that!" Sacha put in, well pleased. "It'll exactly suit him, There'll be mountain climbing, cf course, and as he says, an element of excitement and adventure." "Proeisely," Mr. Hay ward answered; "that's SRS. f you aud Alex- child; Sacha, I weu before we a month's tour I of relief. She be sure, except vague idea that vere engaged in ' e> )o^'ition of to uer, all the lap where Ow^en reflected, much Aud bluill wo e's gone? Will » I. Hayward an- anj' sort." Lunt Julia inter- d smile. "Net d, unbending ut ip in the moun- ;s8 wilds, ar il la e unknown, tu < wa7it to do Svj; ; [oorish world, b. lotest interior." ha ptit in, well m, There'll be and as he says, i venture." Qswered; "that's UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 39 just why I'm taking him there. I want to train his body and mind to familiarity with danger. Your father was a brave man, Sacha. I want ( )\ven to be like him." "Owen is," Sacha said proudly. "As brave tis they're made. He takes after his father in that. Or else your training's been successful." 'Well, it's a comfort to think, anyhow, that if anything goes wrong in Morocco while he's , there," Aunt Julia said with a sigh, "we shall know at least that dear Owen's in the midst of it." Which is a feminine form of delight, but a very common one. CHAPTER V. CHERCHEZ LA FBMMB. Guardian and ward stood on the deck of a Cunard -Mediterranean liner before Owen had an inkling of their real destination. This uncer- tainty, indeed, exactly suited his adventurous athlete mind. He liked to set out hot knowing whitht.r he was bound, and to wake up some fine morning in a new world of wonders. Overflow- ing with life and youth and health and spirits, he found in such a tourist surprise- party an irre- sistible attraction. He was wafted to his Bag- dad as on some enchanted carpet. It would have spoiled half the fun for him if he knew before- hand where he was going, or why ; and, besides. 40 UNDER SEALED ORDERS with Mr. Hay ward he was always happy. He preferred this sailing under sealed orders. Oh, the change to him, since boyhood up- ward, from Aunt Julia's petticoat regime and perpetual old-maidish restraint at the Red Cot- tage to the freedom and breeziness of Mr. Hay- ward's holiday ! For IMr. Hay ward had designed it so — and had succeeded admirably. A boy hates to live under a woman's restrictions, and loves to have a man in authority over him. Mr. Hay ward took advantage of that natural instinct of boy psychology to bir-'i Owen to himself by strong ties of affection . and gratitude. With Aunt Julia, education was one long categorical "Don't" ; her sole part of speech was tlie impera- tive negative. Don't try to climb trees; don't speak in that wise; don't play with those rude boys; don't wear out your shoes or the knees of your knickerbockers. With Mr. Hayward, on the contrary, education .consisted in a constant endeavor to find out and encourage every native instinct : if that pleases you, my boy, w.hy, do it by all means; if that irks you, never mind, you can get on in the end very well without it. From Mr. Hayward or with Mr. Hayward Owen had learned French at odd times without being con- scious of learning it ; he had learned history and politics and knowledge of common things: optics and photography, and all the allied arts and sciences ; geography in action ; a mass of general information, taken in at the pores, and all the more valuable because acquired con amove. That was what Mr. Hayward meant by "not ERS lys happy. )d orders. ce boyhood up- oat regime and at the Red Cot- less of Mr. Hay- ird had designed lirably. A boy restrictions, and over him. Mr. , natural instinct an to himself by ratitude. With long categorical was tlie impera- imb trees; don't with those rude ss or the knees of T. Hayward, on ad in a constant age every native T boy, w.hy, do it never mind, you ithout it. From 5^ ward Owen had thout being con- irned history and on things : optics I allied arts and a mass of general lores, and all the red con amove. I meant by "not iiii'jtiiM; j'ilwwwwiL_____ UNDER SEALED ORDER8. 41 allowing his schooling to interfere with his edu- cation." The boy had learned most and learned best in his holidays. Obedience, if you will ; yes, Mr. Hayward de- sired tht/ promptest obedience. But it was the willing obedience the disciple renders of his own accord to the master he adores, not the slavish obedience a broken spirit tenders to a desptitic martinet. Liberty first, order afterward. Mr. Hayward would rather ten thousand times see Owen rebel than see him give in without a strug- gle to unreasonable authority. As a matter of fact, Owen often rebelled against Aunt Julia's strict rules, and when he did so Mr. Hayward upheld him in it stoutly. On this particular journey, even after they got outside the bar of the Mersey, Owen had still no idea whither on earth they were bound, save that their destination was somewhere in the Mediter- ranean. He learned the exact place by accident. A fellow - passenger, leaning over the taffrail, asked Mr. Hayward carelessly : "Alexandria?" ^ % "No, Tangier," the mysterious man answered. "My friend and I are going on a tour in the Mo- rocco Mountains. I want to do a little photog- raphy there — take unhackneyed Islam." Owen's heart leaped op at the sound, but he gave no overt token. Mountaineering in Mo- rocco! How delightful ! How romantic! Arabs, Atlas, Adventure ! The very thing to suit him. "Dangerous work," the fellow-passenger ob- served, with a lang^uid yawn. "Sketching and 42 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. m- photographing. Shock these fellows' religious prejudices. And Jedburgh justice is the rule. •Oflf with his head/ says the Cadi." "So I hear," Mr. Hayward answered, calmly. "They tell mo you mustn't try to take a snap at a mosque, in particular, unless you can do it un- observed. If the natives catch you at it, they're pretty sure to resent the insult to their religion and cut your throat as a work of unobtrusive piety." •'What larks!" Owen thought to himself. "This is just what I love. A spice of danger thrown in! And I've always heard the Morocco people are fanatical Mohammedans." And, indeed, be enjoyed his first week or two on African soil immensely. From the moment he set foot in Tangier — t to be shaken so lightly from his first true report. "Non, non," he repeated, "Anglaise, vous'dis-je; anglaise, anglaise, an- glaise. It's a woman, not a man. It pleases hor t» ride about through the interior that way." Owen looked up quite crestfallen. "You don't mean to say she travels alone, without an escort, with nobody to take care of her except you?" he (isked the man in French. The Algerian — for he was one — nodded a quiet assent. " 'Tis mademoiselle's fancy," he said. "She likes to go her own way. And she goes it, I can tell you. Nobody would ever ;r«t if f' t Uf ii' t&^ 46 UNDER SEALKU UKDKKN. madomoiHellu to do anytiiin^ hlio didn't want to." Owen guKod iippoiiliiigly at hiw (j^uurdian. "This i« too bad, Mr. llayward," ho cried. "We've a Holdier to protect u«. And a girl goos alouo. Wu imiHt disniisH our oHcort. U'h a Hhanio tor uh to be bwiteu like that by a woman." "You're qiuto right," Mr. Hayward antjwered. "If hIio can go aK)ne, why, so can wo. I'll dih- miss our man to-morrow, and I'm glad you took itBO." In a few minutes more the stranger strolled out casually into the courtyard again. She hml a frank, free face, yet not really masculine, when one came to look into it; and the great crop of loose chestnut hair, blowing iibaut it in the breeze, gave it a very marked air (rf loose grace and carelessness. "I beg your pardon," she said inpuio English, her voice betraying at once the oi)en sei-rot of her Bex, "but I hear from the man who keejis this place you've, got liis only two pooms. I'm sorry to itjterfere with you, but would you mind occu- pying one together, just this evening, to let me have the other? It's a long pull at this, hour of night to Taourirt, the next station." She spoke as calmly and familiarly as if she were in an English hotel, and as if a lady got up in male Arab costume were everywhere a common object of the country. Mr. Hayward glanced at her and smiled, raising his hat the while with his usual stately courtesy. "With KK8. she didn't want luH ^iiurdiiin. iml," Ijo cried. Liw. And ii girl our escort. Ii'h like that by ft yward answered, an wo. I'll dib- 'm glad you took stranger strolled agiiin. She had masculine, when the great crop of uhout it in the iiir of loose grace I in pure English, open seiTot of her in who keel* this ooms. I'm sorry d you mind occu- »vening, to let mo dl at this- hour of ion." imiliarly as if she I as if a lady got ire everywhere a T. Mr. Hayward lising his hat the sourtesy. "With UNPRR 8RALBD ORDERS. 47 I'HSure," ho said, motioning W to a seat on the divran by the door. "If there's anything at all wo can do for you we shall be only too liiippy. You're English, of course, as I gather tiDUi your accent?" The problematical young person took a seat on thi> divan in the shade and removed her fez for cijolness, displaying as she did so all the vv«a'th of chestnut hair* that htul before been but vaguely siiHjxHJted by the fringe that eswiped from it. 'More English than anything else, I suppose," slie said, brightly, leaning back as she spoke and loosening her native slippers; "though I taveu't !i drop of English blood in my body if it comes ti> that. But I'm a British 8i>bject, any way, and my native tongue's English. I'm a little liit of everything, I believe — except Turk, thank Hoaven! — but my name's mostly Greek; it's lone ITraoopoli." .'»r, "A very pretty name, too," Owen put in, lialf-abashed. "My friend's is Hayward, and mine's Owen Cazalet." "Why, then you must be Sacha's brother," Miss Dracopoli cried, enchanted. "You are? How delightful ! Sacha 'and I used to go to the School of Art together. Yoti never hoard hei speak of me, did you — lone Dracopoli?" "No, never," Owen answered. "But she knows so many girls in London, of course," he added, apologetically. "You don't mean to say you're traveling alone in Monxjco like this? You've come all the way from Tangier with nobody but this servant?" 48 UNDlilt 8KALKI) UKUiCRM. "Not from Tiln^fior," Mins Iotk"' unMWcred, on joyiiiK ills Htnazt iiioiit iiuiiuMimil.v, "imtcli t'lii-lhtr than thiit. -Ml thn wiiy from Oraii, ia Freiidi Al^t'i'ia. — YoH, I've rirfo(;t goniuB fur MhriigKi'iK I'i^ BhouldorB ami saying 'MuIh, non, niadenioisoUo ; iniposHible.' — 'I never oaro to attempt anything myHelf un- less it's impiifiHiblo. What's possible's easy. What's imposdblo's amnsing. ' He shruggeil his shoulders again, and si'^d: 'Another of thew mad English. Tiumk V in, if she's killed, it'll b() beyond tho f r ;nti But he let me go, all tho same." And lone smiled triumph at tho memory of tiie encounter. "And you've had no diffioultiea by the way?" Mr. Hay ward asked, astonished. lone throw her head back, and sliowed a very pretty neck. Her face wivs daintily rounded, and her tooth, when she smiled, vvoro two rowa of pure ivory. "Difficultiob: " she echoed. "DifficuUien! Dear mo, yes; thank goidnoss I've had noth- ing but cUflii'ulties. Why, what else do yoi expeol? Whero'd be the fun of coming so fur and facing so much discomfort, I should like to know, if it were nil plain sailing, like a canttr ^ t {DKKS. !()n("« iiMHWcrod, tm )ly, "luucli luflluT I Uruii, iu Frencli •OHM tlu) iiioiintiuiM with All ti) taki! [)l() at Oriin tiilkfil )iug impoHHible f ir u' tronlu^r witlioiit Hyid 1 to tho nous- iniling old goiitlo- I buttonhole and a hiti Hhouldora and aullo; imposwible.' lything myself uri- a poHsible'B eaHy. g.' Ho Bhruggt'il : 'Another of thexo Ml, if Bhe'w killotl, But ho le* me go, iled triumph at tho iltiea by the way?" led, and showed a very drtiiltily rounded, led, were two rowH led. "Difficulties! ess I've had notli- what else do yon in of coining so far )rt, I should like to iiling, like a canter UNDEIt SRAI.RD ORDERS. 4» across the Hrigliton downs? It was the diflS. ( idtioB that drew me, and I've not boon disap- pointpd." ~ Owen starwl hard at her and listened with i)ro- found int«M-oHfc and admiration. Mr. Haywurd, Killing alairntnl, noted tho sparklo in his eyo. This was indeed a girl after Owen's own heart, ho f(»lt suro. So ho rogi8tero tti;;; :vi«iisj8^iS^ i^ ia;j ia i^^i^v 4U- 60 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. I r '*'t OU8 eventful tale, and once or twice it grew ex- citing; but Miss lone herself, overflowing with yoiithful spirits, told it all, from the humorous side as a capital joke, and now and again made them laugh hoai-tily by the quaint drollness of her comments. At the end of it all she rose, quite unabashed and untroubled by her wid<; Turkish trousers, and with an airy wave of the hand observed, "I must go inside now, and see what our landlord can do for me in the way of supper. I'm hot and dusty with my ride. I must have a good wash. There's nothing on earth so delicious, after all — when you've got beyond the southern limit of tubs — as a big bowl of cold water at the end of a long day's journey." As soon as she was gone, Mr. Hay ward looked at Owen. "Well," he said slowly. "Well," Owen answered, perusing his boots. "What do you think of her?" Mr. Hay ward asked, trembling. ' »"- "She's certainly pretty," Owen admitted, hot and red. And neither said a word more. But Mr, Hay- ward felt an unwonted thrill of j)remonitory discomfiture. Half an hour later, lone emerged again. She had taken off her embroidered jacket meanwhile, and now displayed underneath it a sort of loose white shirt, of some soft silky material, which gave her a more feminine air, and showed off to gretiter advantage that full smooth snowy neck of hers. Her short but flowing hair rippled grace- fully round her temples. She came out to them, I DBRS. twice it grew ex- overflowing with 3m the liumorous V and again made mint droll ness of f it all she rose, )led by her wid(! airy wave of the iside now, and see me in the way of with my ride. I here's nothing on -when you've got lbs — as a big bowl ig day's journey." •. Hayward looked 3wly. lerusing his boots, ir?" Mr. Hayward wen admitted, hot »re. But Mr, Hay- 11 of jjremonitorj^ lerged again. She jacket meanwhile, li it a sort of loose fey material, which and showed off to ooth snowy neck of hair rippled grace- I came out to them, -IS?;'^ UNDER SEALED ORDERS. trntuMtm/tumm 61 trilling to herself a few bars of a joyous French song: c^est <;a-tarra-larra. "Well, this is better," she cried, looking around at the pink glow of the southern sunset on the bare whitewashed walls, and shakiog her locks free from her foreh* A on the faint moun- tain breeze. "I'm cool again now. They'll give us something to eat out here before long, I suppose. Better here tlian in that stuffy little living-room inside. I'm not particular as to furniture, or food either, thank goodness; but '*'■ seems to come rather expensive in Morocco." She was like fresh air herself, Owen felt in- stinctively. ^.>mething so open and breezy about her face, her voice, her walk, her manner. The ideal of young Hellas come to life again by a miracle in our working-day, modern, indus- trial world. She looked as if no taint of this sordid civilization of ours had ever stained or sullied her Greek Naiad nature, "I've asked them to serve us what they cai, a the open court," Mr. Hayward said, dubiously. "You're used to their fare by this time, no doubt, so I won't apologize for it." "I should think so," the girl answered, pull- ing her shirt loose as she spoke, with another sunny smile. "Very good fare, too, in its way, "though not luxurious; dried figs, and milk, and olive oil, and cous-cous. It's such e. comfort to feel one's left fish-knives and doilieei altogether behind one, and that there isu'i a pair of aspara- gus-tonga anywhere nearer than Oran." "Perhaps," Owen began, rising from his seat, r>t 4-^^^ F^ m^ '»^msmm }■ !''■;• mmm 62 UNDER SEALBt) ORDERS. and looking timidly toward Mr. Hay ward, "Miss Dracopoli would prefer—" "I beg your pardon," their new acquaintance put in quickly, interrupting him, "I'm not Miss Dracopoli. I object to these meaningless pure courtesy titles. My name's lone." "But I can't say lone to a lady I never met in my life, l)efore to-night," Owen responded, al- most blushing. "Why not?" the pretty stranger answeretl, with most engaging frankness, "especially as you'll most likely never see me again in your life, after to-morrow." Mr. Hay ward looked up sharply. He was glad to hear that welcome suggestion. But Owen only bowed, and received the hint in re- gretful silence. "Well, if I were a man, you see," lone went on, composing herself on the divan in Owen'p place, with her feet under her. Oriental fashion, "I'd get other men, of course, to call me Draco- poli. But a girl can't quite do that— its unfem- inine, and women, I think, should always bo womanly. — so the only way out of it - is to say frankly, lone." "So universal a privilege is the It is likely to be highly prized," Mr. Hay ward sa d senten- tiously. "Exactly," lone answered, leaning forward, all alert, and opening her palms before her, de- monstratively. "That's just the point of it, don't you see? It prevents stupid nonsense. I'm all for social freedom, myself; and social BBS. "*TS(^^^^^^)I -•. F , -w> narp F " ' l y. nwm i ^ *' K myiamm ^tf %f fy t !^ wtiifmmmm/i^^ UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 68 ■' i -f Hay ward, "Miss 3W acquaintance I, "I'm not Miss tieaningless pure e." y I never met in n responded, al- inger answeretl, i, "especially as le again in your arply. He was uggestion. But d the hint in re- see," lone went iivan in Owen'p Oriental fashion, to call me Draco- that — its unfem- bould always be t of it is to say the Itis likely to ard sad senten- leaning forward, us before her, de- the point of it, stupid nonsense, lyself; and social freedom we girls can only get when women in- sist in general society upon being accepted as citizens, not as merely women. What I've always held about our future — " But before she could get any further in her voluble harangue, the landlord of the little inn, if one may venture to give the village guest- house such a dignified name, appeared in the court with the single tray which contained their dinner. He was the amine or breadmau of the little mountain community; and after serving the meal, he and his friends stood by, as native • politeness demands, not to partake of the for^, but to do honor to their guests and to enliven them with conversation. From the talk that ensued, Owen, who, of course, spoke no Arabic, was wholly cut off; but Mr. Hay ward and lone chatted away complacently. Every now and again, too, the. amine would take up some cous- cous or a morsel of roast kid in his dnsky fingers, and, as a special mark of distinguished con- sideration, thrust it bodily into their mouths — the Oriental equivalent for "Do let me tempt you with another slice of turkey." Owen felt it a \ hard trial of his courtesy to gulp down these greasy morsels from those doubtfuUy-washen hands; but he noticed with admiration that lone Dracopoli received them all with every outward expitission of appreciation and delight, and he marveled much within himself at the young lady's adaptiveness. "What a power of accommodating yourself to circumstanoes you must have," he cried at i^ .J- ■1 ^ \ ( ■'} V 4 ■ ^ 1 1 ' 54 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. last to her, in an unobtrusive aside. "7 can't put on a smiling face at those great greasy boluses of his. How on earth do you manage itf " lone laughed lightly. "Habit, J. suppose," she answered with a sunny glance at the amine. "Thaf's how I rab along so well with these half barbarous people. I'm accustomed to giving way to their crude native ideas, and so I sel- dom get into any serious bothers with them ; and though I travel alone, they never dream of in- sulting me, even if they're a bit churlish or sus- picious S3metimes. And then, besides, I dare say, my Greek ancestry counts for a great deal. I'm not so particular about my food, you see, as most regular English people. Even at my father's table in London we always had black olives, and caviare, and all sorts of queer Greek dishes — nasty aloppy messep, our visitors called them, much like this pillau; but I was brought up on them, and I liked them." "And then you speak Arabic so well," Owen went on, enthusiastically. "That's the Greek in you again, I suppose. Can you speak many lang^uagesP Most eastern Europeans have such a natural taste for them." "Oh, yes, pretty well," lone replied, with the careless air of a person who describes sotne unimportant accomplishment, "English, a»nl French, and German, of course, those come by nature— one hears everybody speaking them; and then modern Greek — papa's business friends always spoke that in the house, and we picked it up unconsciously ; and ancient Greek — papa ''"'^.^^ HJ |l , ' ,ll .1 l». i |,>. »i BR8. aide. "I can't it greasy boluses inage it?" it, J. suppose," !e at the amine. with these half med to giving 9, aad 80 I sel- with them ; and rer dream of in- churlish or 8UB- besides, I dare for a great deal. Y food, you see, ). Even at my ways had black 3 of queer Greek r visitors called lit I was brought so well," Owen 'hat's the Greek you speak many peans have such replied, with the I describes some "English, a'Hl e, those come by speaking them; i business friends e, and we picked ent Greek — papa UNDfiiB SBALBO OBDBRS. iii^ Hj i nrg i ni^j it n ^ -iini in yijr >i ^ i i ^ i ir a ^ ' 65 liked us to know enough, you see, to read the New Testament and follow the service at Church; papa was orthodox, of course, and we went to Petersburg Place; and it was such fun t) spell out Herodotus and Aristophanes and ^schylus. Men think you're clever. Though, when you speak modern Greek fluently, you know, it isn't the least bit hard to pick out the sense of Thucydides and Plato. But I'm not learned, you must understand ; I've only skimmed them through, just as I'd skim Shakespeare or a French novel or Dante's 'Inferno.' " And she helped herself .to some curds with her fingers, daintily. "Then you know Italian, too," Owen inter- posed, still more open-mouthed, "To read, not to talk—that is to say, not well. But I'd soon pick it up if I was a week in the country. That's how I speak' Arabic— * as she is spoke,' you know — no better. I took lessons for a fortnight at Oran before I started, from such a funny old Moor, with a French wife and three native ones; they boarded me in the harem, and we jibjabbered together from m m- ing to night, and I get along splendidly now. So tvould you, if you took the trouble — and if you've a turn for languages." "I have," Owen answered modestly. "I suppose that runs always with east-European blood." He paused and faltered, for in the midst of the airline's conversation, Mr. Hay- ward's keen eyes had darted a warning glanc at him. Then he went on more qujlckly, as if to \ >r. 1 i 1 1 ! i A*. -^ :tifc:esy 'S^^^^Himb^^ i ^. I cover the slip, from what you living?" 'Ob, dear, yes," lone replied frankly, with- out a shade of false reserve. "A dear old duck of a mother. She's Norse, my mother is, but Orthodox — Greek Church, I mean, you know. l*apa married her ' Bergen, when he was thero in basiness. and she was received into the Church in London, after he was made a partner. That's why, though I am practically English, I haven't a drop of English blood in my veins; thank Ifeaven, for I prefer to be original. I'm a cyyaa l)etwr«n Nora Helmer and the Athenian of the Hge of Pericles, Sach'a always tells me; and I'm proud of the mixture. Pucker English peo- l)le are so conventional ; too Philistine, too afraid to trust their own wings. I'm not like that. I'm wild on freedom." And she shook her Htraggling locks again, standing out wavily on all sides, and let her full white shirt purse itself out as it would over her uncorseted bosom. "So I should think," Owen answered with a slight twinkle in his eye, though he admired her boldness immensely. "But does your mother — " know 'you're out, he was half tempted to add. though he restrained himself with an effort, ami finished the sentence, "approve >of your coming away all alone by yourself like this to Mo- rocco?" lone drew in her rich red lips with expression, and wiped them internally — since the feast knew. no napkins. "Pm an individualist," she ERS. - ■ ■--■^ — — -:-: — "> m'<>» v f-mtff>i v I <\ » iiiif» mi i » ifm/ )w n v <><> 9 n m' " '''^i ^' ''''-''''' ' '»*»'*^ ^ i Illicit »i' * ' > '| [[ ' yf . UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 07 dead, I gather, » you a mother [ frankly, witli- A dear old duck • mother is, but Ban, you know, len he was there I into the Church partner. That's iglish, I haven't ay veins; thank ml. I'm a cx)fi8 Athenian of the ( tells me; and ker English peo- istine, too afraid n not like that. I she shook her g out wavily on shirt purse itself ited bosom, answered with a li he admired her I your mother — " tempted to add, ith an effort, and <«f your coming ike this to Mo- with expression, -since the feast dividualist," she aaid briskly; "above everything an individu- alist. I believe— it's a simple creed — in per- .sjnal freedom. And I'm lucky in having a mother who's an individualist, too, and who shares my confession of faith. When I was coming here, I said to her, 'Well, I'm going to .Morocco.' 'All right, dear,' she said; 'alone?' And I said, 'Yes, alone, mother.' 'How'U you travel? on foot?' 'No, if possible, on horse- l)ack.' 'When do you start?' 'To-rnorrow.' 'Very well, dear; take care of yourself.' There's a mother for you, if you like. I think I've rea- Hon to be proud of her. I'm not conceited, I hope, but I flatter myself I've brought up my mother splendidly." Mr. Hayward, glancing sidewise, would have ^iven anything that moment to get rid of the amine. This conversation was terrible. It threatened instant ruin to all his best-laid plans. Was ever Owen confronted witu such a danger- ous pitfall? And he could do nothing, nothing, to stop the full flow of this strange yoiug wo- man's too attractive confidences. He tried to draw her into the cor. -ersation with the amine, but all to no pu'-pose. lone was much more interestingly engagea elaewaere. She liked this young athlete with the great English limbs, who told her so modestly of his climbs .unong the mountains — a ma,n after her own iieart, and so handsome too, and so appreciative. She rattled on with him by the hour, now nar- rating her own adventures, now drawing out his. Long after the meal was removed, and the », i r n : r 11 1 , 1 : 4 68 UNDKi' BEAlffD ORDERS. i: -. amine hm\ withdrawn gracefully to hft evening devotions (with a curso for the infidels), she kept thoHe two there up talking continuously with her. Mr. Hayward himself, that heart of adamant, was hardly proof against her seh>rnatii' Horvico. "Wo iiiUHt K"t tuitlt>r way protty ourly this niorninij;, or wu hIuiH sleep h Id belle ('loilc. I'm thinking of a long attigo. DroHB tpiiuk, and como out to me." Ho didn't say why. But Owoii fanciml he know, for all that. Mr. Jlaywanl was anxiouH to gut woU Hturttnl on tho road U>foro Ion«> wuh ui>-^aml tlio up{x>dito diroctiou from ibo ono sho moant to go in. In til 1*^ ' .)pe, however, tho wise guanlian of youth . unex[Hjctedly frubt rated, Forscarcely had tlioy gono out into tho <• 'ol court-yard, from the stufF^f room whore they'll pasHod tho ni^ht in their rugHfunid llu- hot breath of tho riittlc, when a lively vuico broke in up^n thi-m, "Guod-moru- ing, friends ; good-niuniiiig. Ibii 't it juHt ntiiling in there? I'm out half an hour U^fore you." It was lone, Buro enough, \\\), and dn-ssed l)e- times, in fez and white shirt, even ]>. < ijicr in the fresh morning air than Inwt nijrht after her jour- ney. Did she alway« rise so early, Owen won- dered to himself; or h:id she got up on purptso — he hardly dared to ank it of his own soul, for he had the modt?8ty of a man — well, on purpose to say go(xl-by to them? Lne, however, didn't leave them long in doubt. "Ohj Mr. Hayward," she said, after a few min- •r , Mr. Hayward I oil luH hIioiiI- I'll, wljicli tiny t for pnu'ticc lionmgli I'dllo- in^ iiuMi in tlu) ^t't iiniior wiiy 4lmli Hleep ii Id H long utii(n) tbu Olio sho 36 guardian of ., For Hcarcf'ly Jiirt-yard, from lod th(> ni|;:ljt in lio . atllf, wiien I, "Good-morn- t it juHttttitling i^fore you." tnd drt'SHed Ije- i prtitiier in the . Rfter hor jour- •ly, ( )weri won- ip on purpLBO — vvu soul, for he , on purpose to I long in doubt, fter a few min- UNDRK HRAt.KD OKDRRS. 63 utoH, in thnmoHt natund way iK)«HihIo, "I wanted to Hoe you iM'fore I went, juHt to ask you a favor. I w.mdor, now, if you'd pliotograpli mo. You Hiiid hiMt ni^lil you'd a I^^uh and ail tliat Hort of tlnn(( hero with you: and I thought, if you didn't mind, it'd Ihj ho nice to ho 'took,' jih the sorvantH nay, in all my clnff'on/t likethiH — f^ot up in coHtumo as a ro; Mortimer'n in Mono Street, it'd be a out-and-dried London cab- inet portrait of a liwly in a fancy dress — nothing more than that — no Burroundin^H, no reality. But if I got it takon horo, with the real livo At- laH in the diHtance for a background, and tho village and the Berlnjn* for acoessories on either Hido-— well, Huppose I should ever hap[>en to make a book of all thin, ju»t think what a lovely idea for a f rontiHpicM^u. " Mr. Hayward laughed and humored he'/. No hann in humoring — just for onro — a pretty girl one'Il most likely never see again as long as one lives. "I am Mortimer's in Bond Street," ho Haid with a (juiet smile. "In private life, I'm known as Lambert Hayward; but in businesH, I'm Mortimer & Co., and I live by taking pho- tographs. However, if you like, after broak- fast, we'll try, though I don't know whether these Berbers will care very much to let us get u, shot at their village." "Oh, leave that to me," lone said contidontly. 'y\ m i 64 UNDER 'jJSALifiD ORDERS, "I'll soon make it all right. I'll get round the amine. He's a dear old gentleniKU, I can see, and he'll do anything one asks him- -if only one goes the right way to work about it." And as she said it, she looked so bewitch ingly arch and charming that Mr. Hayward in his heprt agreed with her altogether. Before such guileless art, even ripe men, he felt with a paug, are but as clay in the hands of the potter. So after breakfudt, he got out his camera, obedient to her wish, with less concealment thau was his wont, and proceeded to make prepara- tions tor photographing lone. The pretty cosmo- politan herself, meanwhile, poured out voluble explanations in very womanly Arabic to the vil- lage chief; "at each sentence of which the old Moslem stroked bis own short beard caressingly, and called Allah to witness in strange gutturals inat he meant no harm, and gazed hard at the pleading girl, and reflected to himself with a very puzzled head that the ways of Allah and these infidels are truly wonderful. Strange that such fair women should be wasted on unbeliev- ers. But at the end of it all, he raised his head and crossed his hands on his breast. "Allah is great," he murmured piously, "You have eyes like the gazelle. Do as you will, oh lady," ""We'll nave it here then, Mr. Hayward," lone said, motioning him over toward the little domed tomb of a Mohammedan saint, surrounded by prickly pears and great spike-leaved aloes. ' 'This makes such a pretty background. It's Afrioa all over. And those children there must corns BBS. [ get round the TiKU, I can seo, im- -if only one : it." so bewitch ingly [ayward in his r. Before such elt with a paug, le potter. ut his camera, )ncoalmeut than make prepaia- iio pretty cosnio- red out voluble rabic to the vil- which the old ard caressingly, orange gutturals zed hard at the himself with a s of Allah and i. Strange that ed on unbeliev- raised his head jast. "Allah is •'You have eyes , oh lady." lay ward, " lone the little domed surrounded by ed aloes. "This d. It's Afriy^A liere must corns UNDER SEALED ORDERS. across and he examining my locket. This way, little ones," in Arabic. "Now, just so, then, Mr. Hay ward." The operator stoppad. "I hardly know if it's (^uite safe," he said, glancing quickly to either Bide. "This tomb's a koribba, you see — the shrine of some petty saint, aim ist as holy as a mosque, and exceedingly sacred. The people may be angry with us if I try to make a picture of it." lone beamed inquiry with those bright eyes at the amine. The amine, overpowered, nodded ungrudging assent. For those bright eyes, in- deed, what live man would not forego all the houris in Paradise? "Allah is great," he mut- tered once more, "and the tomb' is a holy one. It will save the picture from sin. The bones of the blessed Sidi Ahmed Ben Moussa within it might sanctify anything, ' ' Which is one way of looking at it. Desecration and wild revenge by sudden murder is the other one. "Shall I stand in line, too, just to balance the group?" Owen suggested, half trembling. Mr. Hayward, at the cHmera, raised one warning hand in solemn deprocation. "No, no," he said quickly. "That would never, never do. Your European get up would V^reak in upon the unity of the scene, Owen. FatcAi Miss Dracopoli's Algerian — I beg your pardofi; lone's 1 mean His dress is so distinctive. He'll ^ turniug r.und with a sudden dart, and flashing tJie er a word to'him. Besides, to tell you the truth, I don't know any Russ. I said it for a joke. But you see I was right. You admit it yourself now. I was just sure he was a Rus- sian." At that moment, as she spoke, Mr. Hayward CRS. lis witch should ig brain. "He le murmured at agland." And, le's peered deep ir keen scrutiny. Yes, but it isn't elf, you know it u be. As Rus- native tongue's him with a seu- ) see how it con- ony. Oh, what tsped his hands sriminal. "For lU aghast. "If >pt that I've be- I than that. If ssian, I'll Jump rsolf." less. lone took ilarmed he was, ortly. "I'm as grave. I won't I, to tell you the I said it for a You admit it he was a Rus- >, Mr. Hayward UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 69 stalked unconcernedly out of the guest-house in the rear. "Daughter of all the Dracopolis, " he said gayly, for he was too polite to go on calling her lone outright even at her own request, "it has succeeded very well, and is a capital photo- graph. To what address in Loudon may I send you the positives?" But even as he said it, he saw what a mistake he had made. For it was giving Owen the clew to the pretty Greek's address; though, after all, if one came to think, he could have got it if he was so minded from Sac ha any day. CHAPTER VIII. DANGER AHEAD. As soon as the photograph was finished, lone prepared to go her own. way and continue her journey. Ali brought round her horse, ready saddled, and lone, now fully dressed in her em- broidered jacket and fez, sprang lightly on its back with an easy vault, man-fashion. "Well, it's been pleasant to meet a European face again, and hear a vvonl or two of English," she said, turning toward them with a sunny smile on those full rich lips. "I don't deny that — though I came here to escape them. It's sc good of you to have troubled about my photo- graph, too. Thank you ever so much for it. N now you see, Owoii, I'm alwa3'H frank with you. I've I ild you the whole truth. You can guess the rest for your- self. SoTue men in my place would have con- cealed it from you Bodulounly. That's not my way, my boy. I tell you the simple (rnth, nud I tell it outright To put it plainly, I don't think it's well for you to see too luch of young wonum of MIhs Draeopoli'n mperament." And Mr. Hay ward was quite right. He was acting, as usual, with all the wisdom of the ser- pent and all the innocence of the dove. By thiin ing straight out his inmost mir 1 to ()\\ (>n lie Wiis putting Owen on his honor, as it were, and compelling acquiescence. For Owen was Ku- glishman enough to feel such generous treat- ment bound hirn down in turn to the intensest integrity. If Mr. Hayward didn't wish him to see more of lonS, how in goodness' nai^io could he ever do enough to avoid her in future.' Not that he was so very anxious to meet their new friend again, though she took his fancy im- mensely at first sight. Her freedom, her courage, her frankness , her innocence, all hit him hard on the tonderest points; and ho knew it already. But it was the principle above all things that troubled him sorely. Did Mr. Hayward mean to put him thus on his honor, he wondered, uh to lone in particular, or to all women in general? If the last, that was surely a very large order I rwdvep, and 1 tie might elect ere, iiftrr nil, DU BOO, Ovvdii, o I iUl you tho rest for yotir- uld have con- riuit'H not my [)le truth, luui it plainly, I ■o too : iijc'h t>f lijperHmont." ^'ht. He wns lorn of the sur- ove. By thus 1 to Owen lie Lsj it were, nfid wen wtis Kii- enorous troat- > the in tensest t wish him to name could he uro;' s to meet their : his fancy im- n, her courage, it him hard on iw it already, ill tbingH that 'ayward moan 3 wondered, an ten in general? y large order I UMDfiH Owen wiw just gfr'^w^iuK *o ^^^ "J when a pretty . girl oxereisei!) a diHlinct magnetic iiiHuencu oil a young mau's ho Did Mr. llaywa/tl intend that all that wide of human nature should \m a hliink page to him? Was he to leiiu an an- chorite's life'r* Did the Cause demand even that painful sacrifice of him? After a few minutes' pause ho spoke; "MissDracopoli in particular?" ho Jisked, pur- suing his own train of thought, as if Mr. Hay- ward had been following it all the tinu', as indeed was the case. "Or all women in general?" Mr. Hayward turned and gazed at him — ^a mute, imploring ga/.e. "My boy," he said, kindly, but with a sort of ttsrror in his eye, "sooner or later I felt this sub- ject must be discussed between us; and to-day's an good an occasion for discussing it as any. On this point, Owen, I fool exactly like Paul: I havt3 no commandment from the Lord about it, but I give you my judgment. *I would have you without carefulness.' I would have your himds kept free, if possible, to do the work that's sot before you. Remember, love aflfairs are a very great snare; they take up a young man's time and distract his attention. That's why I've kept single to this day myself. There are women I might have loved, but I've cherished my celibac;,r. It allowed me to direct my un- divided energies to the good of the Cause. 'He that is unmarried,' says Paul, 'careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord ; but he that is married careth for the 76 ■,*(|^''.*' rNI>RK HKAI.KP ORI>RRM. tliini^ that nm of tho world, Im)W Ko nmy pleiiMn liiH wife' Th«re you hiivo tlm qtioHtion in a nntMhell. And ho, liko tho ii|K)Htlo, I lay no (U)iiuimnd upon you. I'm too wiw? for thiit. It you must fall in lovo, you ihii.hI, huiI no (^aro or lesolution will knei* you out of it. But, ut any rate, you ucodn't ruHli into tho way of it nw;u- lohwly. Koop your hoad vkmr if you can, and lot tho Cauw> have tho heart of you." And for the reHt of that ride Mr. Hayward talk»Hl on with unwonted fretnlom and vi^or of tho (^auHO. He talked much, too, of hin planw for Owen's futiiro life, and of how tho OauHo waH to be benefited by \m f^oiuK into the diplomatic Horvire. "But even if I pot an attache' ^ jdaoe," Owen Haid at hiHt, with a glanoe as he paBseil at Hirreen ravine below them, "how can you ever injure my getting nent to Petersburg?" He always t;poke of it bo, and not as St. Petersburg. It's the Russian way, and he had picked up the habit from Mr. Hayward. The elder man smiUxl a calm, serene smile of superior wisdom. "My dear boy," he said, looking back at him, "you needn't trouble about that. Do you think I've laid my scshemes in such a haphazard way as your question implies? — I, Larnbert Hayward? You don't know me yet, Owen. But you have no need to muddle your head about such trifles. Your place is to go wherever you may be sent, and to wait till tho signal for action is given you. Till then, you can leave all with perfect safety i ijiiftiiiSiiSti- m: Iio nmy j)leiiM«t (pioHtiun ill a Htlo, 1 lay iin (o for thiit. Jt Hud n<» can' or But, at jiny iviiy of it iui».'»i- ou run, mid let Mr. Hiiywunl n Jiml vi^or of o, of liin i>lrtnH r tho (^aufK* waH the diplomatic; jilaoe," Owen aHsecl at a fjcrnan ou ever itmuro " He always jtersburg. It's ed up the habit serene smile of ig back at him, Do you think haphazard waj' bert Hay ward? But you have out such trifles, u may be sent, jn 18 given you. h. perfect safety ITNDRR NKALBD ORDERS. 77 to mo. When tlie Hignul oomcM, you must Ktrike, and Htriki> homo; and as long as this world lasts, II grateful country will rtMiipmbt>r you." "1 sen," ( )wen answorod, almost blushiiig for his indiflcrotinn in asking. "I might have guusst^d it, I know. You do nothing rartilessly. And I understand how many strings you hold in your hand »t once; how intricate to pull, how diffi- cult to co-ordinalc. I reali/«> how you're in touch with every chortl and pulse of this vast organiza- tion the whole world ovor. Don't think, Mr. Hayward, I undervalue tho privilege of iHting so trusted by you, and of living so near you. Don't think I doubt for a moment your power to ari-ango this or almost anything else you seriously set your mind upon. Only, I wondered, e:ven with all your influence, how you could so far pull tho wires of tho Foreign Office in England as to get a particular attache sent to Petersburg or to Vienna." The smile on Mr. Hayward's lips grew deei)er and wiser than ever. Ho turned his head once more and answered in the same masterful tone as before: "Owen, you take far too much for granted. You think you fathom mQ, my boy; you think you fathom me. Many men and women harve tried to do that in their time, but not one of them has succeeded Why, who told you I ever meant you to go to Petersburg at all? Pure in- ference of your own, pure human inference. I never said so." He paused a moment and re- flected. Then he went on again more confiden- 78 UNDER SEALED ORDERS, tiall)^ "See here," he said, dropping his voice by pure habit even in those unpeopled wilds. "It's not in Russia itself that we stand the best chance of striking a decisive blow at this hateful autocracy. Quite the contrary; nowhere else in the world are our opportunities so small, or the defense so active. There we're watched, numbered, thwarted, conspired against, counter- plotted ; there we're held in check by endless spies and police and soldiers ; there the men and women of the^ Romanoff horde are guarded night and day by innumerable precautions. In Russia itself I dnubt whether oven an English attacM could ever get near enough the person of the chief criminal or his leading accomplices to effect any- thing practical. He might, of course, or he mightn't. But that isn't the plan I have in view for you, Owen. I mean to let them send you wherever they like. And wherever you go, you'll be equally useful to us." "More perhaps elsewhere than at Petersburg itself," Owen suggested, as calmly as if it were the merest ordinary business. He had been brought up to regard it so, and it was so that he regarded it. "More perhaps elsewhere," Mr. Hay ward as- sented with a nod. "Much more perhaps else- where. At Petersburg you might pick up for us some useful information, and being an En- glishman and a member of the embassj'-, you'd be the less suspected of having anything to do with us. But elsewhere, you would manage far more than that, You might have access to the kKSa KS, )ping his voice peopled wilds. stand the best at this hateful nowhere else es 80 small, or '^e're watched, ;aiust, counter- )y endless spies aen and women [ night and day Russia itself I attach^ could n of the chief 3S to effect any- course, or he ilan I have in ; let them send lerever you go, 1 at Petersburg ily as if it were He had been [ it was so that * r. Hay ward as- re perhaps else- fht pick up for I being an En- embassj'', you'd anything to do uld manage far ve access to the UNDER SEALED ORDERS. Romanoffs themselves whenever one of them came by. There's nowhere they mayn't come —they r^ervade all Europe— Copenhagen, Athens, Nice, Florence, Brussels; and even the jealous care of the most friendly police can't exclude from their circle member-^ of the diplomatic body. Why, they're not even safe in Asia it- self; we dogged them through India. One of them was wounded the other day in Japan ; an- other was attacked — though all that was hushed up — at the Taj at Agra. Therein lies our strength, iny boy; we're ubiquitous and irre- pressible. The criminals never know from what unexpected point at what unexpected moment the ministers of justice may overtake them and pounce down upon them. And what would ter- rify them more than the sudden discovery some day, in the midst of the festivities of some for- eign court, that a minister of justice stood un- noticed even there, in the guise of an envoy of some friendly brother potentate? We want to make it impossible for any man, however brave, to accept the bad emiuence of autocrat and jailer- in-chief of all the Russias. Can you imagine any plan more likely to accomplish our end than this plan of striking a blow where it's least ex- pected by the hand of one who had always passed for a neutral Englishman, and whose very con- nection with the Cause or the People in Russia none but ourselves would ever so much as dream of suspecting?" Owen glanced ahead at hini admiringly. "Mr. Hay ward," he said, with profound con- If 80 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. viction, "you're a wonderful man. If any one can free Russia, you surely will do it ! It makes mv proud ta have sat at such a patriot's feot. Forgive me if I've asked you too much to-day I'm only the very least of your subordinates, 1 know, and I never want to worm out more than the commander in-chief himself willingly tells mo." Mr. Hay ward gave him a look of true paternal kindliness. "Right, my boy," he said, warmly. You're always right. I never had any one I could trust and be trusted by like you, from the very begin- ning. That gives me much hope. Though things look black ahead now." And then, in a voice full of fiery indignation, he gave way all at once in a very rare outburst, and began to recount in rapid words a whole string of terrible atrocities in Siberia and elsewhere, detailed to him in cipher by his last budget from St. Petersburg. , Owen listened, and felt his blood boil within him. Not for nothing had Mr. Hay- ward trained up in the faith his Nihilist neophyte. CHAPTER IX. V FAMILY BUSINESS, In Mor.cuo, these things. Away over in St. Petersburg, that self - same day, a lady was closeted close in a bureau of the Third Section If any one it ! It makes )atri{>t'8 feet, nuch to-day ibordinates, 1 at more thjin illingly tells true paternal nly. You're I could trust e very begin- 'hough things dignation, be outburst, and whole string tid elsewhere, ; budget from I felt his blood had Mr. Hay- list neophyte. s. i,y over in St. a lady was riiird Section UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 81 with that stern military policeman, General Alexis Selistoff. "And so you've obtained some influence with him, you think, Madame Mireff?" the general said, musing and twirling his bronzed thumbs. "Influence!" Madame Mireff repeated, with a bland feminine smile. "I can just twist him round my fingers — so," and she suited the action to the word. "As a statesman, of course, Lord Caistor's unapproachable and irreproachable : we all know that; but as a man .... well, he's human. I take him on the human side— and I do what I like with bim." The general smiled responsive — a grim smile and sardonic. "Politics," he murmured, in a very soft voice, like a woman's for gentleness — though to be sure it was he who flogged a Polish lady to death once at Warsaw for some trifling act of insubordina- tion to the Government orders — "politics have a morality all of their own." Madame Mireff assented with a graceful nod. "Though you mustn't for a moment suppose," she said, hesitating, "that our personal rela- tions — " The general was a gentleman. (In Russia that quality is by no means incompatible with flogging women to death when the morality peculiar to politics sanctions or even demands such an extreme act of discipline.) He cut her short at once with a polite wave of the hand. "My dear Madame Mireff," he said, in his 'ifi. > y ,. ^?e! :-m€ H i^. 82 UNDER SEALED Ol>DERS. "I hope you don't think imagine that a lady of most deprecating tone, I could for one second your character — " one outstretched palm and a half-averted face completed the sentence. "Of course you understand me," Madame Mireflf went on, blushing a trifle even so. " We are friends, he and I— that's all. The earl is an able man, and a keen politician; but in private life he's a most charming person. We got on together admirably. Figurez vous that I go down to stop now and then with dear Lady Cais- tor at Sherringham-on-Sea ; and there I have the earl to myself half the day in the garden or the drawing-room We never talk politics, general, you must understand. Pas si bete que ga, I need hardly tell you. I influence him gen- tly; the dropping of water on a stone; a constant imperceptible side - pressure, if I may so say. Russia in the abstract ; a Russian woman in the concrete— that's all I have to play against his astuteness and his suspicion. Our sincerity, our devotion, our simple natural straightforwardness, our enthusiasm for humanity — those are the chief chords of my poor-stringed lute. I harp on it al- ways, though not, I hope, monotonously- It tells upon him in the end. You can see it telling upon him. He says to himself: 'The character of the units determine the character of the aggregate. A nation made up of units like this must be on the whole a tolerably decent one.' And it influences his policy. You must notice for yourself he's less distrustful of us than formerly." > M u don't think ;hat a lady of d palm and a tence. 3," Madame 'en so. " We Phe earl is an ut in private We get on lis that I go it Lady Cais- Bre I have the garden or the talk politics, IS fii bete que mce him gen- ie; a constant may so say. woman in the y against his sincerity, our tforwardness, le are the chief harp on it al- usly- It tells it telling upon tafacter of the he aggregate, ^e this must it one.' And must notice of us than UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 83 The general leaned back in his round office chair— neatly padded in brown leather, stamped with the imperial arms— and surveyed her criti- cally. No wonder a statesman who accepted Madame Mireff as the typical Russian should think well of the country whose tangible embodi- ment and representative she proclaimed herself. For a handsomer ripe woman of forty- five you wouldn't wish to see anywhere than OlgaMirefif. Her figure was full and round, yet not tao full or too round for the most fastidious taste ; her charms were mature, yet all the richer for their maturity. An intelligent, earnest, enthusiastic face; great child-like eyes ; a sweet and generous smile; rare beauty of feature, rare naivete of expression — all these went to the making up of a most engaging personality. Her hands were plump, but soft and white and dimpled. Her motions were slow, but they quickened with animation, and grew positively mercurial under the influence of enthusitiem. The very woman. General Selistoff thought to himself, to twist round her fingere, as she said, a clever and im- pressionable foreign secretary like Lord Caistor. Alexis Selistoff had never had^ a better-made in- strument to work with. This little wedge of feminine insinuation might enable him in time to permeate the whole inert mass of English opinion. The general paused, and fingered hia waxed mustache. "And you go back again to-morrow?" ho said, still surveying her with approbation. Madame Mireff nodded assent. 'w , M trr.N,, 84 UNDER SEALED OBDER8. "Unless you wish it otherwise," she answered. "I am yours to command. But if you see no objection — then to London, to-morrow." Tlie man of politics shrugged his shoulders. They were broad and well-set. "Oh, as for my wishes, chere dame," he said, with an air of official disclaimer, "you knoAr very well they have nothing at all to do with the matter. You are not and never were an agent of the Government. If you drop in here for a chat with me, in a moment of leisure, yon drop in as a friend — nothing more, bien entendu. Some little relaxation—some little interlude of the charms of female society— may surely be al- lowed us in a life sa monot jnous and s^ deadly dull as this eternal routine of ours. I sign my own name on an average three huudred and seventy-four times per diem. But as to busi- ness—business — you have nothing to do with that. La hatUe politique is not a lady's affair. Tape, dockets, files, pigeon-holes— those are ad- ministration, if you will. But a vinit to En- gland by an unauthorized Russian lady" — he gazed at her hard— "mere private gadding. Dis- abuse your mind as to that, madame,- disabuse your mind as to that ; though I know you don't even need to be told to disabuse yourself." Madame Mireffs smile as bespoke those words was a study in complexity. It contained in it- self four or five smiles superposed, in distinct straBa, and one .if them, perhaps, would have sur- prised General Selistoff not a little had he known its tvM. import. But madame didn't enlighten 9. he answered. if you see no ■ovv." lis shoulders. mf," he said, , "you knojv 10 do with tho vere an agent > in here for a ire, you drop ien entendu. 9 interlude of -• surely be al- and 8^ deadly . I sign my hundred and it as to busi- 5 to do with I lady's aflfair. •those are ad- vipit to En- ,n lady"-— he adding. Dis- ame,« disabuse 10 w you don't urself." ce those words Mitained in it- )d, in distinct 3uld have sur- had he known In't enlighten UNDBR SBAIvED ORDERS. 86 him on that abstruse point. She only answered, submissively: "I'm well aware of those facts, general. My one object in life is to serve my country and my Czar, unobtrusively and unofficially, by such simple private influence as a mere woman can (>xert in a foreign capital." Though madame knew very well in her own lieart that a Russian lady would never be per- mitted to exercise influence on English politics, directly or indirectly, in whatever caimcity, un- less it suited the Government she should unoffi- cially represent it. And so, too, did General Solistoff. Had it been otherwise— no passport ;it the very least; perhaps oven imprisonment, the mines, Siberia. They looked at one another, and smiled again, with their tongues in their chooks, mentHlly speaking, like the Roman augurs when they n lot in private. Then the general spoke again: "And Prince Ruric Brassoff?" he said, with ,ui ugly frown on his high bronzed forehead. "Still no trace of him anywhere? You haven't ono hope of a clew? How that man eludes ue!" "No," Madame Mire"' answered, demurely, laying one plump hand - ' th resignation over the other and shaking a solemn head. "He eludes us still. How can you hope to catch him? I feel convinced even his own associates d.n't know where he is. I've made every in- (|airy. The man works like a mole underground, popping up here and there for a moment to take breath, as it were, or not even that. He's in- II 86 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. SjSSt t^ visible and incalculable. Nobody ever sees him ; nobody ever talks with him; only written mes- sages flutter down now and again from the sky or from unknown sources, bearing an Egyptian postmark, it may bo, or a Maltese, or a Nor- wegian, or a Sicilian. They're not even in his own hand, they say — not the bulk of the docu- ments; only the Higniiture's his; the rest's typo- written, or copied by an fimanuoiiBifi, or dictuteu, or in cipher. His subordinates liuvo nothing to go upon but those two inysterious words, 'Itu/ic Brassoff,' at the bt-ttom of an order. Hut they obey it as implicitly as if it fell upon them from heaven. Most of them have never set eyes u\)(in the man himself in their lives at all; nobody on earth has set eyes upon him for ten years pfist; yet there he is still, wrapped in the clouds as it were, but pulling all the strings just as clearly as ever. It's a most mysterious case. Though, after all, as a diplomat, one can hardly help admiring him." General Selistoff looked up sharply at her in a surprised sort of way. Born bureaucrat that he was, he couldn't understand how any one could admire even the cleverest and most auda- oious of rebels. "Well, that's a matter of opinion," he said, slowlj', pressing his thumb very tight on the edge of his desk. "For my part, if I'd Ruric Brassoff 's neck under here this minute — " tlio thumb was raised for one second and then squeezed down again significaQtlj\ General Selistoff paused once more. His eyes looked % >ERS. dy over sees hitn ; tily written mos- uin from the sky iiifj an Egyptian iltese, or a Nor- 3 uot even in his tulk of the docii- ; the rest's tyju;- iiHiF, or diotatoi'i, have notliiit^ to is words, 'Itiiiin irder. iJut they upon them from r'er set eyes uj>0)) t all ; nohody on r ten years past; the clouds as it [8 just as clearly case. Though, ?au hardly help iharply at her iu bureaucrat that d how any one and most auda- linion," he said, ?y tight on tue ,rt, if I'd Ruric i minute — " the jcoud and then mtlj\ General lis eyes looked UNDER SEALED 0RDHR8. 87 away into the abysses of space. "Ruric Brass- off," he repeated, slowly; "Ruric Brassoff! Iluric Brnssoff! If only wo could catch that (11(3 single man, we wouldn't take long to crush out the wholo infernal conspiracy." "You think bdV" madamo inquired, looking '111. "He's its head," the bureaucrat answered, im- patiently. "No organization on earth can pos- sibly gi> on when its head's cut off." And he liad hati experience, too, in the results p^" 4'^capi- tiiH(/n. "We got on, somehow, after our late beloved C/HT WHS fru/rdered by these wretches, " madame jiiil in, very gravely The general sat up stiff ffe didn't like tids turn. 'Twas beta nth hira to bandy words and .irgnments with a woruari, "Well, you'll not relax your ciforts, at utiy rate," he said, more coldly, "to get some clew to Prince Ruric Brassoff's whereabouts. Remem- ber — five hundred thousand roubles and the title of Princess. Ceaseless vigilance is our only re- s,)urce. Leave no stone unturned. Under one or other of them, we know, must lurk the scor- pion that bit us." "True," madame answered, relapiry, I suppose, lat unfortunate ■ed, all respeot- Tmftmmi- UKDKR HRAl.KI) OKDKKH. fill Mjinpathy. " And when one'n engaged on a matter of the kind, it's best, of courHe, to know .•U. I've only heard that Sergius SeliHtoff mar- liod an Knglirth wotniin." The gotu'cal bowed his head onc^e more. ' ' Yes, an English v^oman, ' ' he answered. ' ' Biit tbat'H not all. A public Hinder at Vienna, w .u, us wo have reaHon to believe, for her family's Hake Hang under an asHumed name, and wliose lolationa in England we've never been able to trace since Sergius .... went to the fate re- served for tr litDrH. Ou the morning when the administrative order was insuod from this office f;)r my brother's arrest — I signed it myseif — Madame Selistoff and the children disappeared from Petersburg as if by magic. My sister-in- law, as you must have heard, was discovered, laving mad, a few weeks later, in the streetw of Wilna, though how or why she got there nobtxly ever kiu ^v; and from that day till her death, Kome seven months afterward, she did nothing but cry that her children at lefist must be saved —her children at least mutif got iiway safe from that awful place to England." The old man stroked his mustache. "It was terrible," he said, slowly, "terrible what suffering Sergius brought upon us all, and on that unhappy woman." "It was terrible, indeed," Madamo Mirefif an- swered, with a look of genuine horror. "Well, what 1 want just now," the general continued, rising up in all the height of his great Russian figure, and going to a little cupboard, ii»..- *■ n I i;fe-i.is«i'v-i>.^.^ir;^V;->^..iv-; c i^. % IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I »- IIIIM 1.25 1.4 |21 IIZO 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ; \ VlkifaM)-..a^ .1 ■i' i 'p iM, jiiM ; i ! . ' f,4iJ^i>Ji ! j.lB ' Jl- jl.iai*?iU| - ■ EBS. small bundle of I want just now ut for me in Ba- re there still, and ed. "You wish le boy; to bring issia again, give nake him a loyal town on his desk his face lighting »usand times no ! ad all his works ephew of mine — sh half-breed by > the mines, as I aly I could catch son should die you say? Our •f the traitor." ith true Russian her face moved. Only the long I great child-like find out where anybody in En- romise it will be ons' I see you dossier." nth. an unwonted 'hen he stretched T UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 91 out the papers before Madame Mireff's keen cyoa. "Alexandra, aged four, at ^he time of her flight, would now be twenty-five, or thereabout," he said, quivering. "Sergius, a baby in arms, between twenty and twenty-one. Here, j'ou see, are their descriptions, and such details as we could recover of the mother's family. But it was a mesalliance, you must understand, for a Russian nobleman ; a complete mesalliance. She gave her name at the ceremony as Aurora Mont- morency ; but we believe it to have been false, and we don't know the real one. Your biisiuess will bo only to hunt up these people; mine to crush them, when found, as one would crush beneath one's heel a brood of young vipers." "Perfectly," madame answered, with a charm- ing smile. "I understand my mission, excel- lency. I will obey your instructions." CHAPTEpi X. AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. And while, in St. Petersburg, General Selistoff was uttering those words to his trusted associate — on the mountain-path near Beni-Mengella, in Morocco,* Mr. Hay ward was exclaiming enthu- siastically to Owen Cazalet (aged twenty or thfc.'eabout), "It's a glorious worfc, my boy, m 1 *?.- UNDER SEALED ORDERS. and it's laid wpon you in due course by your glorious inheritance." "And yet," Owen murmured musing, "it's a tdrrible one, too, wiien one comes to think of it." Mr. Hayward eyeJ him hard with a quick half-startled air. "Yes, terrible, certainly," he answered, with the rapt air of a prophet, "but inevitable, for all that — a stern duty imposed upon you by your birth and training. Consider, Owen, not only that unhappy country, a brute bulk, bearing, half loth, upon her mjrriad shoul- ders the burden of one miserable horror-haunted man — the most wretched of mankind — but yor own part in it as well, your own calling and election to avenge and assist her. Remember your father, sent to sicken and die by inches in a Siberian mine; remember your mother, driven mad in the streets of Wilnain her frantic endeav- ors to carry you and her daughter in safety be- yond the Russian frontier. All these things the Romanoffs have done to you and yours in your very own nousehold . "What j ustice can there be for them except in the angry vengeance of their out- raged serfs? On you falls that honor. You are summoned' to this great work. You^ should ac- cept it with pride, with gratitude, with aspira- tion." "So I do," Owen answered, a feeling of shame breaking over him like a wave at even so tran- sient an expression of doubt or hesitancy. "Trust me, Mr. Hayward, I will be ready when the time comes, Don't fear for my fidelity. I won't fail you in the struggle." >ERS. course by your musing, ''it's a 3 to think of it." d with a quick e, certainly," he a prophet, "but n duty imposed aing. Consider, jountry, a brute er myriad shoul- 3 horror-haunted nkind — but yon iwn calling and aer. Remember die by inches in r mother, driven r frantic endeav- ter in safety ba- these things the ad yours in your ;e can there be for mce of their out- honor. You are You, should ac- ide, with aspira- feeling of shame at even so tran- jsitancy. "Trust ready when the fidelity. I won't UNDER SEALED ORDERS. And indeed, that manly young Englishman, for Huch in all essentials he was, really meant it find felt it. No« for nothing had Mr. Hayward taken charge of his youth, and slowly, by tenta- tive degrees, as he found his pupil's mind ripe for change, instilled into him all the principles of tlio fiercest Rus-Jun nihilism. Everything had worked with that cheery, vigorous, enthusiastic English lad in the direction of accepting the faith thus forced upon him. His reverence for Mr. Hayward, at once the gentlest and most power- ful mind he had ever known ; his hoiTor at the fate of his own father an I mother; his native love of freedom, of individuality of adventure; his sterling English honesty of purpose; his inherited Russian fatalistic tendency— all led him alike to embrace with fervor the strange career Mr, Hay- ward sketched out for his future. Nihilism had become to him a veritable religion. He had grown up to it from his cradle ; he had heard of it only from the lips of its adherents; he had been taught to regard it as the one remaining resource of an innocent people ground down to the very earth by an intolerable tyranny. So it came to pass that Owen Cazalet, who from one point of view, as his friends and companions saw him at Moor Hill, was nothing more than a strong and pleasing athletic young Englishman, was from another point of view, by Mr, Hayward's side, a convinced and unflinching Russian Nihilist. All day they rode on across the volcanic hills. Toward evening they reached the dubious village j&^'>*-;^,iJ'*jT8. 9.1 UXDER SEALED OBDERS. of Beni-Mengella, whose mhabitaata even their tolerant Moorish servant had described, to them as verj' devout and fanatical Mohammedans. At the outskirts of the hamlet, three Berbers, clad each in a single loose white robe, not much differing from a night-shirt, met them full in the path, - . "Peace be with you," Mr. Hay ward cried out, accosting them in the usual Moslem formula. "Peace be with all true believers," the men answered, in a surly tone. The alteration was significant. It meant that even the protection of the Serene Shereefian Umbrella didn't entitle such open rebels against the will of Allah to peace in that village. "This is ominous," Mr. Hay ward muttered quietly to Owen. "We may have trouble here. These men refuse to give us peace as we pass. That always means in Islam more or less chance of danger." "So much the better," Owen thought to him- self, reddening visibly with excitement. They rode on in silence up to the amine's house. A handsome young Moor in an embroid- ered jacket lounged in a graceful attitude against the richly-carved door-post. He started as they approached, and then burst into a merry laugh. But^the laugh was lone's! "Well, this is odd," the stranger cried aloud in English, in a very feminine voice. "You said you were going to Duarzin. You changed your minds suddenly. What on earth brought you on here?" "Well — yes; we changed our minds," Mr. ERS. kaut3 even their escribed, to them hammedans. t, three Berbers, robe, not much them full in the I'^ward cried out, ,em formula. I vers," the meu f) alteration was tt the protection la didn't entitle ill of Allah to rward muttered ve trouble here, aace as we pass, re or less chance thought to him- »meQt. to the amine's • in an embroid- attitude against ) started as they a merry laugh. "Well, this is a English, in a you were going ninds suddenly. are?" r minds," Mr. ■■,;*J UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 95 Haywaitl answered, with a slight stammer, look- ing decidedly sheepish, "we altered our route \vhen we reached the fork in the roads. We hoard .... this village was more likely to afford us something reallj'^ good in the way of advent- ure. But you? we've fair reason to question ycu as well. Didn't you tell us this morning you meant to sleep at Taourirt?" loiie laughed once more that merry musical !augh of hers, and tossed her fluffy hair off her oars at the same time with an easy movement of her head. "What fun!" she cried, delighted at the absurd contre - temps, in spite of herself. "Why, I came here, if you must know, on pur- pose to avoid you. Not out of rudeness, you un- derstand; if it were in England, now.. I'd have been most pleased to accept your kind compan- ionship. But, you see, I've come out hei'c all this way to do this journey alone; the whole point of it naturally consists in my riding through Morocco by myself in native clothes, find perhaps getting killed on the way — which would be awfully romantic. So, of course, if I'd allowed you to come on with me or to follow me up, it'd have spoiled the game; there'd have been no riding alone; it'd have been a personally conducted tour, just the same as the Cookies. Well, that made me turn' off at a tangent to Beni-Mengella, for I thought perhaps you two men might be afraid to let me go on by myself, or might ^ ahead to Taourirt on purpose to' make sure I got into no trouble. And that, you must see' for yourselves, would have put an end r'iBllliiiimiiMii«iiiMm^^ R%* 96 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. at once to my independence. Tho value of this experiment cousista entirely in my going through Moracco alone, on my own hired horse— and coming out alive and unhurt at the other end of it." Mr. Hayward gazed at her with a somewhat comical ruefulness. "It is unfortunate," he said slowly. "But we must put up with it now. I'm .sorry we've incommoded you. It's too late to go anywhere else at this hour, I'm afraid, even if there were anywhere else in the neighborhood to go to." "Oh, well, now you're here," lone answered with good-liumored condescension, "you may as well stay, for after all, we had a very jolly even- ing together yesterday at Ain-Essa, hadn't we? Besides, you know, it's lucky for you in some ways, I'm here; for I can tell you these are just about the liveliest and most aggressive Moham- medans I've met anywhere yet — they're war to the knife on infidels, and if you'd come among them alone — without a lady to protect you, I mean — I believe they'd have murdered you as soon as look at you. One or two of them seemed half inclined at first to doubt about the propi-iety of murdering even me; but they're got over that now; I've made things all square witti them. I've repeated enough verses from the Koran to satisfy the amine himself as to my perfect ortho- doxy, and I've Mash-Allah'd till I'm hoarse at every man, woman and child in the villa tje. Besides, I've made up to the moollah of the mosque. If I say to him, 'These are friends of ,>^;iBrsU4.«ia«* ■?.'■ >KRS. 'ho value of this iiygoiug through lired horse— and ; the other end of rith a somewhat inf ortunate, " he k np with it now. ou. It's too hit-e , I'm afrrtid» even he neighhorhood " lone answered ou, "you may as I very jolly eveu- Essa, hadn't we? for you in some ou these are just gressive Moham- ; — they're war to I'd come among o protect you, I nurdered you as 1) of them seemed out the propriety ''re got over that lare with them, m the Koran to ny parfeot ortho- II I'm hoarse at in the villa tje. mo^llah of the je are friends of UKDER SEALED OKDRKS. 97 mine,' not a soul in the place will dare to touch you." As for Owen, in spite of all Mr. Hayward's warnings, he didn't pretend to conceal from him- self the obvious fact that he was very glad indeed to come again upon lone. Not wholly from the point of view of personal liking either; he had a better reason than that : a more serious reason. It was a point of honor. Their last few words together at Ain-Essa, where they had spent the previous night, had loft an abiding sense of terror on his inmost soul. Nobody but lonS Dracopoli had ever suggested in his hearing the fatal idea tliat Mr. Hayward was a Russian. And he hadn't had time to impress upon her in full (before he left) the profound necessity of keeping that idea a secret. All day long his con- science had been pricking him for that unwilling disclosure. Had he assenteil too openly? Had he betrayed Mr. Hayward's trust by too easy an acquiescence? He'd been longing every hour of that tedious march for the chance of seeing lone alone once more, to beg her to keep silence ; and now that chance had come. He was profoundly grateful for it. To him, the suspense^ had in many ways been a terrible one. He had never had a secret from Mr. Hayward in his life before. That feeling of itself gave him a sense of guilt. But he couldn't pluck up courage to make a clean breast of it either. Mr. Hayward wpuld think he might have parried the thrust better. To say the truth, he w^s ashamed to lot his guardian see the painful fact 98 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. that (i girl had f?ot Iho best of him in a very brief encounter. Mr. Hnywanl Htrolled into the guest-houHo to arrange about accommodation. While he wiih gone Owen was left alone at the door for one min- ute with lono. There whh no time to be lost. He must seize the opportunity. Such a chance to speak might not occur again. Mustering up all his courage, suddenly (for he was a bashful young man), he turned to her at once and said in a very earnest tone, "Miss Dracopoli, I thank Heaven I've met you again. I wanted— I needed— I re- quired one word more with you. I daren't tell you why — to do that would be a crime — but I want you to promise me as faithfully as you can you'll never mention to an^'body your suspicion that Mr. Hayward's a Russian. It might be death to him, if it wore known, and death to me too. I've no time to explain more — he mustn't come out and see me talking to you so. But for Heaven's sfike — I beg of you — promise me, do promise me, you'll never mention the matter as long as you live to anj^ one." He spoke with concentrated earnestness, like one who really means most profoundly what ho says. lone glanced at him for a minute, halj: in doubt, half in amusement, with these big laugh- ing eyes of hers. She didn't quite know whether to take it as a very good joke or not. Most things in life were very good jokes to lone. Then she sobered down suddenly. "Why . . . this . . , is , . . Nihilism r' she said, word by word, m a very surprised voice. "No wonder you're RS. in a very brief gUBHt-hoUHO to While he wiih or for one iiiiii- to be lost. lie b a chance to UBtering up al! . bashful young said in a very thank Heaven '. needed — I re- I daren't tell 1 crime — but I illy as you can your suspicion It might be ad death to me re — he mustn't ►u so. But for romise me, do i the matter fis .rnestiiosa, like undly what ho ninute, halJ: in icse big laugh- know whether . Most things >n6. Then she ... this . . . by word, jn a yonder you're UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 99 alarmed. Yes, that is . . . just . . . Nihilism. But you needn't he afraid, Owen Cazalet. I give you my promise. I'll never say a word of it as long as I live to any one." She spoke now as seriously as he had sjioken himself. She said it, and she meant it. In a moment, the laughing girl saw the full magni- tude of the issue at stake, and for once wjis so- bored. Owen glanced at her timidly, and their eyes met again. "Thank you," ho said, very low, in a very timid voice. "Ten thousand times, thank you." "But what^s his Russian name?" lone asked after a brief pause, half coaxingly, and with true feminine curiosity. "You miyht tell me that now. You've as good as admitted it." "Ah, but I don't know it!" Owen answered, very earnestly, without one second's hesitation. "I haven't heard it myself. He's never once told me." His voice had a ring of truth in it. lone felt sure from its tone he meant just what he said. She gazed at him curiously, once more, "Never a word of it to any one," she repeated with sol- emn assurance, wringing his hand in her own. "I'll cut my tongue out first. For I see you mean it." At that moment, as she spoke, Mr. Hay ward's face loomed up at the far end of the i^aesage from the courtyard inside. lone saw it and was wise. She let Owen's hand drop suddenly. "And such a funny old Moor with a green turban on his head," she went on quite loud, in her gayest and ^KS"' 100 VNDBK HEALED OBDERM most natiirnl voico, rh if cnntinuing a convoraa- tion ou Home porfw^tly banal point, *'yoii aovor 8HW in your life. Ho wuh lat and diirk and h»ui u mole on his forehuad; and lio callod Allah to witneas at every second word he was letting mo have that horHO dirt cheap for my beautiful eyes, at rather Iohs than half its value." "They're dreadful old cheats, ' ' Owen echoed in the same voico. But he felt all the same most horribly ashamed of himself. These |)6tty social deceits sit much heavier on uh moa than on the lips of women where they spring spontaneous. And it cut him to the heart to think he was em- ploying such moan feminine wiles— against Mr. Hayward. After that night, ho thought to himstjlf bitter- ly, he'd take very good care never to meet lono Dracopoli anywhere again. Though to be sure she was the nicest girl he'd ever mot in his life, and the froest in the truo sense of all he admiretl in freedom. But still — the Cause — the Cause! for the sake of the Cause— he'd avoid her like poison. She was a dangerous woman. More dangerous even than he knew; for of all possible links to bind a man and a woman to- gether for life, almost in spite of themselves, commr nd me to a secret shared in common. ung a convorea- int, **yoii aovor td (hirk and htul culled Allah to was letting tni) r beautiful eyes, Owon echoed in the 8ume moHt tieso |)etty social noa than on the g epontuneons. link he was om- oa— against Mr. • him8i)lf bitter- er to meet lono lugh to be sure mot in his life, ' all he admired 180 — the Cause! avoid her like )man. cnew ; for of all ad a woman to- of themselves, 1 common. VMDER SUALBD 0RDBR8. CnAPTER XI. MAN P K O 1' O 8 E 8 . That night at Beni-MeugoUa wns Owen's last n eting v/ith lone Dracopoli in Morocco. And he enjoyed it immensely. All through the even- ing, indee'l, lone wa.s as gay, aw communicative, as frankly confidential, as she had been at Ain- KriHa ; C) wen even fancied she was possibly plofvsod to meet him agaiu; but if so, it was a pleasure she didn't desire to let pall by too irequent repe- tition. For next morning, after their native breakfast of fried cakes and cous-cous, lone turned one merry forefinger uplifted to Mr. Hayward. "Now, mind," she said, imperiously, "this time — no reconsiderations. First thoughts are best. Tell me your tour, and I'll tell you mine. Let's hold by them rigidly. You stick to yours, and I'll stick to my own. Then we won't go running up against one another, headforemost, like the people in a farce — exit Mr. Hayward and Owen Cazalet left, enter lone Dracopoli R. U. E., and all that sort of thing. I want to be able to say I rotle through Morocco alone from 'Kiver to Kiver.' I've almost done it now. Five or six more evenings will bring me down to Mogador. Look here; this is my route, as r:i i!> i 103 UNDER SEALED ORDERS far as one can trace it where there are no projier maps." And she unfolded Joseph Thomson's rough chart of the Atlas range l^efore him, and indicated as well ai^ possil)]e with one plump white finger the general idea of her future stop- ping places. Mr. Hayward ac(iuiesced, and took the oppo- Bito direction. For his own pfirt, if lone was anxious to avoid him, he was ten times more anxious to avoid lone. Of the two toufH, therefore, the independent young lady's was finished first. Mr. Hayward \ad Owen were still riding slowly up steep mule- paths of the mountains ir: tbe interior long after lone had changed her Turkish trousers and her embroidered Moorish jacket for the tailor-made robe of Regent Street and Piccadilly, As to Owen's later feats in the Atlas, I shall say no more of them here. The untrodden peaks that he climbed, the steep cliffs that he scaled, the strange insects he discovered, the rare plants he brougnt home— how he withstood the natives at the shrine of Fidi Salah of the High Peak — how he insisted on photographing the Mosque of Abd- er-Prahmau with the Two Tombs in- the chief seat of Moslem fanaticism in the far interior — are they not all written with appropriate photo- gravures, in Hayward 's "Mountaineering in Southern Morocco?" -Who lists may read them there. For the purposes of this present history they have no further importance. Enough to say that at the end of two weeks Owen Cazalet returned by the Cunard steamer to London, a W^^Mr DER8. lere are no proj-ter Dseph Thomson's s l^efore him, and with one plump f her future stop- d took the oppo- wirt, if lone was ten times more the independent ;. Mr. Hayvvard 'ly up steep mule- nterior long after trousers and her • the tailor-made Lccadilly. As to ,3, I shall say no adden peaks that at he scaled, the the rare plants he ad the natives at High Peak — how B Mosque of Abd- mbs in- the chief the far interior — ppropriate photo- >untaineering in s may read ihem is present history iice. Enough to ks Owen Cazalet ler to Lojidon, a UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 103 traveled man, and ar authority on the vexed points of topography. Immediately on his return, Sacha met him at Euston with important news. A domestic reVo- lution had occurred at Moor Hill during his short absence. Sacha met him at once with unusual excitement for that placid nature. "You mustn't go down to Auntie's to-night," she said, as soon as he stepped on to the platform. "You must come to my lodgings and slsep. I want to have a good long talk with you as soon as possible, Owen. I've such lots of things to tell you." "Youi- lodgings!" Owen cried, astonished. "You're in looms up in town, then? Why, how's that, Sacha?" "Oh, it's a long story to tell," Sacha answered, somewhat flushed hersfilf out of her wonted com- posure. "You see, yovi're six weeks in arrears. We haven't been able to write to you. . And ever so many q'jeer things have happened in England meanwhile. In the first place — that's the beginning of it all — I've sold my Academy picture." "You don't mean to gay so !" Owen exclaimed, overjoyed. "But not at your own price, surely, Sacha. You know you told us it was quite pro- hibitive yourself. You put it so high just for the dignity of art, you said." Sacha's not unbecoming blush mantled deeper, with conscious success. "Well, not exactly that," she answered. "I knew the price was prohibitive — or at least I believed so ; but I reck oned its value in accordance with what any- ^1 iwSiSs-u.**; 104 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. body was likely to give for it. It was worth a hundred and fifty; so I asked a hundred and fifty for it. And a great Manchester buyer snapped it up like a shot, payiug the price down without a word, and he told me afterward he'd got it on the ad rice of a famous critic — he wouldn't say who, but I think I know — and that if I'd asked for two hundred, I should have had it." "You don't mean to say so!" Owen cried, pleased and proud. "Well, that's splendid news. Though you deserve it, Sacha, you know. I'm sure you deserve it. I've always said myself you'd bo a very great artist one of tlieso days — a vt>ry, very great artist — like Mme. Lobrun or Rosa Bonheur." Sacha smiled demurelyf. It was no small joy to her to get such praise from Owen — for p\ui^ be- lieved in her brother. "Well, then, dear," she went on, "you see, that made me a rich woman outright all at once; for he gave me a check for the whole of the money in a limip — a hundred and fifty pounds at a sijiglo go, and all earned by myself too. Isn't it jfist delightful? — Is this your bag? Then put it in a hansom, ■and come up with me ta mj' raoms. I'm in lodgings close bj% while we look after the papering and fur- nishing in Victoria Street," "The whatf' Owen cried, throwing his port- m mteau in front as if it weighed a pound or t>vo and taking his seat by her side, bewildered ©nd astonished. "Oh, I forgot, that's part of the history," IRS. It was worth a I hundred and Qchester buyer the price down afterward he'd 10U8 critic — he I know— and , I should have ' Owen cried, liat's splendid t, Sacha, you I've always it artist one of tist — like Mme. s no small joy en — for phcj^ be- lien, dear," she 3 a rich woman me a check for lip — a hundred and all earned :htful?— Is this Lsom, ■end come L lodgings close )ering and fur- owing his port- a pound or \vro bewildered and the history,' ^i:- ?fe ../ i UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 106 Sacha answered, running on. "Why, the fact of it is, Owen, being a rich woman now, I've left Moor Hill for good, and Aunt Julia, too, and determined to come and live in town on my own scale in future," "And give up the studio!" Owen cried, re- gretfully. "Oh, I shall have a studio in our flat, of course," Sacha replied, with a slight sigh. "Though naturally it was a wrench— I don't deny it — to give up the dear old five-cornered nook at the Red Cottage. But I felt it was nec- essary. For a long time I've realized the fact that it was artistic stagnation to live down where we did— in the depths of Surrey. In art, you know, Owen, one wants constant encouragement, stimulation, criticism. One ought to be drop- ping perpetually into other men's rooms" — Sacha said it as naturally as if she were a man herself — "to see how they're getting on, how they're developing their ideas, and whether they're improving them or spoiling them in the course of the painting. One ought to have other men dropping perpetually into one's own roonfs t.) look on in return, and praising one or slanging one as the case demands, or at any rate observing, discussing, suggesting, modifying. I felt I was making no progress at all in my art at Moor Hill. I stuck just where I'd got to when I left Paris. So when this great stroke of luck came, I said to myself at once, 'Now, I'm a finished painter launched. I shall be rich in future. I must do justice to my art, and live in "^t -I Si, 15 i 1 'Y J^SSS. 10(5 UNDER SKAliED ORDEK8 the very thick of the artistic world. I must move in the Bwiui. I must go up to London.' And that's how we decided on this flat iu Vic- toria Street, wliich we're now engaged in fur- nishing and decorating." "But what does Aunt Julia say?" Owen ex claimed, a little taken aback by so much unex- pected precipitancy. Sacha suppressed a slight smile. "Dear old Aunt Julia!" she said, with a faint undercur- rent of amusement in her earnest voice. "Well, you know just what she'd say, Owen! Aunt Julia can never understand us modern gii'ls. She thinks the world's turned topsy-turvy in a lump, and that everything womanly's gone and vanished clean out of it. She puts it all down, though, to dear mother's blood. Aurora, sho says, was al'rays flighty. And no doubt she's right, too, in her way. It's from mother, I ex- pect, Owen, that I inherit the ai listic tendency, and many other things in my nature. In her, it came out in the form of music ; in me, it comes out iu the form of painting. But it's the same impulse at bottom, you know, whichevey turn it takes. There's nothing of the sor* in Aunt Julia, certainly." "They must have been singularly different iu type, no doubt," Owen mused with a sigh. "Of course, I can't remember poor mother myself, Sacha; but from all you've told me, all I've heard from Mr. Hay ward, she must have been the opposite pole from poor dear Aunt Julia," "Well, they were only half-sisters, you see," ■a-fi'-yimtiti- SKS. VNDBir'sEALED ORDERS. 107 svorld, I must up to London.' this flat in Vis- ngaged in fur- iy?" Owen ex- 80 much nnex- ile. "Dear old faint undercur- voice. "Well, Owen I Aunt modern girls, ipsy-turvy in a nly's gone and its it all down, . Aurora, she no doubt she's n mother, I ex- listic tendency, ure. In her, it in me, it comes ut it's the same ivhichevey turn e 8or* in Aunt irly different in ;h a sigh. "Of mother myself, d me, all I've nust have been Aunt Julia," iters, you see," Sacha answered, in an apologetic tone. "And I fancy our grandmother must have been a very different person, indeed, from the first Mrs. Caza- let. Certainly, you can't imagine Aunt Julia going off on her own account as a public singer to Berlin and Vienna, or marrying a Russian like poor papa, or trying to escape with us under a feigned name, or, in ' ict, doing anything else that wasn't perfectly Britisli and ordinary and commonpluce and uninteresting." "Aunt Julia was born to be a decorous En- glish old maid," Owen interposed, laughing. "She'd have missed her vocation in life if any- body'd happened to propose to her and marry her." "Yes, and when she heard we were going to take a flat in town tngether — three girls alone — and have latchkeys of our own and nobody to chaperon us — why, I thought, poor dear thing, she'd hav<^ fainted on the spot. But what horri- fied her most was our grandest,idea of all ; that we're to b.9 independent and self-supporting — self- suflicient, in fact, or at least self-sufficing. We mean to do our own work, and to keep no servants." "That's good!" Owen exclaimed, seized at once with the idea, in the true vein of the fam- ily. "That's splendid, I declare. So advanced! so socialistic! Only I say, Sacha, you'll want some one to do the heavy work of the house. I expect I'll have to come up to town as well and live with yon as hall porter." "I don't think so," Sacha answered, gating it,/ 'If J •> • I 'J m If on top ) somewhere, I ut it from her- [ of you wlien strong, and so it of course all ell, let me see; iter I sold my these lodgings )0sed to Black - all her people 3ome and tako iment, and we i^rms together, int, looking at ; rNDER SEALED ORDERS. 109 1 rtoms and rooms, lone Dracopoli turned up in town, Turkish trousers and all, and was taken up of course as a nine days' wonder. The Old Girls Club at College gave her a breakfast one (lay which I attended, naturally; and there she heard of my plan, and fell in with it heart and soul. She wanted to be one of us. She says tliere were always three Graces, so she must be number three; and as for going without a serv- ant, that was tlie dream of her existence. We two others were naturally glad enough to get }ier, for we'd been hunting in vain for a flat s!nall enough and cheap enough to suit our purses, and lone has money, so that by club- bing together, we can do much better. Well, the end of it all was, we've taken a dear little l)lace behind Victoria Street, Westminster ; and in a week from to-day we mean to move into it." Owen's heart beat fast. This was a terrible Di'deal. He'd fully made up his mind never to see lone as loug as he liver! again. But he couldn't promise to give up paying visits to Sacha. There was nobody so near him or so sympathetic as she was. And though she didn't know all his relations with Mr. Hay ward, in- cluding the reasons why he was to go into the diplomatic service, she was the only living soul on earth, besides his fjuardian, with whom he could alludo in any way to the secret of his birth, or his Russian origin. To everybody else he was just Miss Cazalet's nephew^ the son of that half- eister who married somewhere abroad, and whose :fn I iS>- 110 UNDER SEALED 0HDBR8. husband was supposed to have diod in disgrace in Canada or Australia. For tho saLe of the Cause, he dreaded the pros- pect of seeing much more of lone. CHAPTER XH. PINE ART. At the Academy, those same days, Lady Beau- mont one afternoon strolled vacantly through tho rooms, doing the honors of English art to ber friend, Madame Mireff. "Yes, Sir Frederick's are charming," she said, languidly, deig^niug a glance as she passed through thejaristocratic outrage; "but, then, Sir Frederick, of course, Is always charming. Besides," with a sigh of relief, "I saw them all in his studio bo- fore they came here, you know," which absolved her accordingly from the disagreeable necessity of pretending to look at them now. "So ex- quisitely graceful, aren't they? Such refine- ment! Such feeling! . . . Well, she. answered me back to my face, my dear: *As good as you are, my lady' : those were her very words, I as- sure you: 'as good as you are, my lady.' So after that, of course, it was quite impossible for me to dream of keepinp- hev on one minute longer. My husband went in and packed her off imme- diately. Sir Arthur's not a violent man — for a soldier, that -is to say — and since he went into KRSa liod in disgrace readed the proB- ays, Lady Beau- atly through tho glish art to her tning," she said, e passed througli D, Sir Frederick, Besides," with in his studio bo- which absolved Beablo necessity now. "So ex- * Such refine- l, she. answered ks good as you 3ry words, I as- my lady. ' So 3 impossible for ) minute longer, d her off imme- ent man — for a oe he went into Parliament, between you and me, his temper's l)Ben like a lamb compared to what it used to be whefi we were out in India; but that morning, I'll admit, he flared up like a haycoc'r. He sent hor packing at on(,'e, passage I id, by the fir/ train to Calais. So there I was, my dear. . . Yos, a swoot thing, retiUy ; he does those Venetian Hc'ones so well: a very pleasant man, too: he dined with us on Saturday. . . So there I was at Grindelwald, left high and dry without a maid to my name, and as I'm about as incapable as a babe unborn of dressing ray own hair myself, I had to go over to Interlaken next 'morning early to get it done up by a coiffeur ; and then, if you can believe me, I was forced to sleep in it for three nights at a stretch without taking it down — wasn't it ridiculous, fignrez voxts — just like a South Sea Islander with a neck prop — till Arthur liad got out a new maid for me by telegraph from Tiondon." Madame Miroff smiled. "What a slavery," she said, quietly, "to be so dependent on a maid that one can't even go to bed in comfort without her! It reminds me of those slave - making ants Professor Sergueyeff told mo about in Petersburg the other day, which can't even feed themselves unless there's a slave ant> by their sides to put the food into their mouths, but die of starvation in the midst of plenty." Lady Beaumont stifled a yawn. "Arthur says in a hundred years there'll be no servants at all," she drawled out in her weary If,'.*' 118 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. way. "Tho girls nnd tho men of the lower orders will ftU bo too Hno and too \.-cl;-«riucatt.'l to wjiit upon v;h. But 1 tell liim, thiink Hoavoiii they'll last inif time, luid tbat's enough (or mo. / couldn't do without. After us, tho deluge." "That's a lumutiful thing over there," Mad- ame Mireff put in, interrupting her. "No, not the little girl with tho drum — that's not my taste at all— I'm sick of your English little girls in neat tight black stockings. Tho one beside it, I mean; H:t7 ; Greek maidens playing ball. It's so free and graceful — so much life and movement in it." "It is pretty," Lady Beaumont assented, put- ting up her quizzing-glass onco more, with as much show of interest as she could muster up in a mere painted picture. "I forgot who it's by, though. But I've seen it before, I'm sure. It must have been in one of the studios, I expect, on Show Sunday." Madame Mireff hunted it up in tho catalogue — a rare honor at her hands, for her taste was fastidious. "Aspasia's Schooldays," she read out, "Alex- andra M. Cazalet." "Oh, dear, yes, to be sure," Lady Beaumont cried, with a sudden flash of reminiscence. "How stupid of me to forget! I ought to have remembered it. I'm glad Arthur wasn't hero; he'd be vexed at my having forgotten. A coun- ty member's wife, he says, should make a point of remembering everybody and everything in tho whole division.;^ And I saw it till I was sick of CRfl. UNDRR HBALKB ORDBR8. liS the lower orders luoatt.'! to ,vjiit Hoiivon, they'll gh for mo. / , the deluge." p there," Mad- her. "No, not t's not my taste h little girls in one beside it, I ig Irnll. It's 80 and movement t assented, put- more, with as Id muster up in fot who it's by, ), I'm sure. It idios, I expect, II the catalogue r her tai^te was 3ad out, "Alex- jady Beaumont reminiscence. [ ought to have ir wasn't hero; )tten. A coun- l make a point '•ery thin gin the II I was sick of it, too, in her studio at Moor Hill. — So it Is, I doc"., ire! S;ichu Oazalot's picture!" Madame MireflP caught at the name with true Slavonic ijuickness. "Sacha, " she rop<>ated, "Sacha Cazalet ! Why, Hhe must Ix) partly Hussiaii. That's a Russian word! Sacha — it'n short for Alexandra, too — and her name's Alexandra. Hor mother must Ik! a Slav. . . . And that's no doubt why I like her work so well. There's Russian feeling throughout, in both subject and execution; such intensity, such fervor, such self-restraint, such deep realism." ' "She lives down our way," Lady Beaumont remarked, with a casual glance at the intonHity. "Slie's a queer, reserved girl, self-restrained, as you say; a little too much so, perhaps, for mo; and she has such a dreadful old woman of an aunt— :»ld maid — you know the tyi)e; shedding tracts as she goes; red flannel; Dorcas meetings. Oh, quite too dreadful for anything in her black silk dress and her appalling black jnet, with a bunch of mauve flowers in it. But there's no avoiding her. In the country, you see, a Mem- ber of Parliament's wife must know the most ghastly people — you can't imagine what a trial it is. A smile and a kind inquiry — so— after rheumatics or babies — for every old frump or old bore you meet on the footpath. Ugh ! it's just too sickening. . . . But I never heard anybody say Sacha Cazalet was a Russian." "What's the aunt's name?" Madame Mireff asked, suddenly, for no reason in particular, ex- 114 UNDKH HBALBD ORDRRU. oejit that 'twHH part of her miHsion to foilow up ovyry clow iilunit overy known or miHpwteil Jius- sitin family in Knglund. "Why, Cjizjilot, of courne," Liuly Beaumont answonnl ut once, without protending to any grunt intiTcHt oither in poison or pictures. "Thoy'ro all threo of them C'azalots." "Tlum they're hor brother's children, who Gvor they are," madamo went on, rai)idly, "thirt MiHH Sacha and tho rest; or else, of courHo, their uamoH couldn't bo ("azalet, too. Who waH thoir mother, I wondory" Lady Boaumont paused and stood still. It was too much effort for her to walk and think at tho same time. "Well, I never thought of that before," she said, looking puzzlod for a moment. "You boo, they're not in our sot, exactly; wo only know them OS we're obliged to know everybody in the division— on political grounds, that is to say — garden-party once a year — hardly mure than wliat you might call a bowing acquaintance. But it's odd her name's Cazalet, too, now you suggest it; for I've always understood Sacha's motlior and the old lady were halt-cisters, or something Perhaps she married a cousin, though But, at any rate, they're Caza- lets, this girl and her brother Owen, a great giant of a fellow who gets prizes at sports for jumping and running." "And yet they call her Sacha," madame rumi- nated, undeterred. "Well, that's certainly odd; for Sacha's real Russian. Though, to bo sure, ;y M >ICIM. UNDER HRALBD ORPBRS. 115 Hion to follow up >r HUHpecteil lius- Liuly Betminont Dtuiuling tu any ion or piutureB. iiziilots." I childron, w1k> n, rapidly, "thw else, of courw), iiilot, too. Who , Btood still. It ) whIIc uad think hut before," sho lent. "You see, '; wo only know everybody in the that is to say — irdly more than g acquainttmco. et, too, now you iderstood Suchu'b ) half.-&isters, or married a cousin, ©, they're Caza- Owon, a great zes at sports for " madame rumi- ;'s certainly odd ; >ugh, to bo Bure, ill Kngbmd nowadayH you call any girl anything. No huiguHgo is Mafo from you. I've met a dozen OlgHH at Iniiht Hint'o I came to [^ondon And how old'rt tiiin Siicha Cazalet? She paintH beautifully, anyhow. " "About tweutyfivo or twenty-six, J should wty," Lady Beaumont anHwornd at a guess. "And Owen must be twenty or a littlo bit over. Lot me see; ho was a baby in arms when he first came to Moor Hill, the year our Algy was born. Algy'w twenty in August. The little girl was four or five then; and that's just twenty years ago." Madame Mireff all the while was examining the picture closely. "Very Slavonic," she naid at la«t, drawing back and posing in front to take it all in; "very Slavonic, certainly Pure Verestchagin, Ihat girl there, — And you say they came to Moor Hill twenty years ago now. How? — from where? — with whom? — waa their mother with thorn?" She spnko so sharply and inquisitively, in spite of her soft rovi.'.dness of face and form, that Lady Beaumont, with her society languor, was half aimi)yed at such earnestness. ^ "I think it viras from Canada," the English wouuui answered, with still more evident uncon- cern, as if the subject bored her. "But I never asked the old aunt body nuich about it. I had no interest in the children; they were nothing to mo. I believe their mother was dead, and some* thing or other unmentionable had happened to their father. But Miss Cazalet was never very •ai'. W 116 UKDER SEALBD ORDERS. 1 believe I communiccitive on the point, because I the Bister had gone and disgraced them in some way — went ou the stage, I fancy I've heard — or, at any rate, didn't come up to the district visit- ing standard of social conduct. I never heard the rights or the wrongs of the story myself. Why should I, indeed? They were not in our society." ■•,.';. '...vl.'v.Z ^- -'. "Have they any friends — the boy and girl, 1 mean?" Madame Mireff asked once more, with the same evident eagerness. "Who are the father's people? Don't they over come across to see these two children — from Canada or any- where?" Lady Beaumont reflected. "I don't think so, " she answered, after a pause. "There's a guardian of the boy's, to be sure— or somebody they choose to call a guardian. But he comes very seldom. I saw him there this summer, though. A very odd man, with the manners of a prince, who's been everywhere in the world, and knows absolutely everything." "A foreigner?" madame asked, adopting the English phrase and applying it with tentative caution to her own countrjnnen. "Oh, dear no, ah Englishman. At least, so they said ; his name's Hayward, anyhow, and that's English enough for anybody, I should think. He's nobody in particular, either — just a photographer in Bond Street. He calls him- self Mortimer & Co. in business." Madame made a mental note of the name at onoG. JtS-V t,«ye»*^-^> ^r name. — Here's le was a darling, I once, I think," ) remotest fringe member's wife I once; yes. I mperial family d to the Mireffs. too, in my time. 3acha Cazalet's. f ter that dreamy >ok any more at ! portraits." IF WOMEN. y morning train I her friends in- new flat a little 1 most of its in- spected already, odern — its very eze of lincrusta, and Bacha had interest all the UNDER SEALED ORDERS. tjiste and care of an authority on decoration. But this morning he came rather, with some- \v-hat trembling heart, to view "the elective fam- ily," as Sacha called it — "the miniature phalan- stery," Owen christened it himself — settled down in its new abode, and to face the ordeal of a first meeting with lone Dracopoli in the ordinary ( veryday garb of feminine Christendom. He touched the electric bell at the outer door with one timid finger. It flew open of itself, iifter our modern magic fashion, and Sacha's voice was heard from a dim distance down the passage crying out "Come in," in most audible iiccents. Owen followed the direction of the voice toward the drawing-room at the end, and entered the pretty white and yellow apartment in a flutter of expectation. His first feeling on looking round was a vague consciousness of relief. lone wasn't there. How lucky! . . . And how provoking! Sacha jumped up and greeted him with a sis- terly kiss. Then she turned toward a long wicker chair with it^ back to the door. "This is Blackbird," she said, simply, waving her hand in that direction, and Owen bowed his most distinguished consideration. "What a shame, Sacha," a full rich voice broke out from the depths of the chair, where Owen at first hadn't noticed anybody sitting; "fancy introducing one that way! This is your brother, I suppose. But please don't let him think my name's really Blackbird." Owen peered into the long chair whence the ■■■.,^J(- fX m^ E?» . 130 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. voice proceeded, and saw a frail little woman, stretched out in it lazily — a frail little woman who ought to have been eighteen, to judge by her development, but who, as Sacha had alreatly iUi."orraod him, was really twenty-seven. She was tiny like a doll; not short, but small and dainty; and as she lounged there at full length, with two pallid hands clasped loose behind her shapely neck, and head thrown back carelessly, she looked too fragile for this earth — a mere del- icate piece of semi-transparent Drosdan China. Blackbird was dark and large-eyed; her eyes, indeed, though by no means too prominent, seemed somehow her most distinct and salient feature. Such eyes Owen had never seen in his life before. They were black and lustrous, and liquid like a gazelle's, and they turned upon him plaintively and flooded him with sad light every time she spoke to him. Otherwise, the frjiil lit- tle woman was neither exactly pretty nor yet what one could fairly describe as plain. Slie was above all things interesting. A profound pity for her evident feebleness was the first feci ing she inspired. "Poor wee little thing !" one felt inclined to say as one saw her. A fatherly instinct, indeed, would have tempted most men to lay one hand caressingly on her smooth black hair, as they took her pale thin fingers in th(3ir own with the other. But her smile was sweet, though very full of pensiveness. A weary little soul, Owen thought to himself as he gazed, weighed down by the burden of this age's complexity. ■■.- ipfl? >ERS. ^il little woman, ail little woman oen, to judge by ^ha had already )nty-8even. She , but small and ■e at full length, loose behind her back carelessly, rth — a mere del- Dresdan China, eyed; her eyes, too prominent, inct and salient never seen in his ad lustrous, and ;urned upon him 1 sad light every ise, the frail lit- r pretty nor yet 1 as plain. Shu ig. A profound t'as the first feci itle thing!" cne ler. A fatherly npted most men ler smooth blaok fingers in th(3ir smile vras sweet, A weary little f as he gazed, . of this ag^'g "No, her name's not really Blackbird, on course," Sacha responded quietly in her matter- of - fact tone, looking down with a motherly glance at the shrinking figure in the long wicker chair. "Her name, to be official, is Hope Merle Braithwaite. There now — is that definite enough? Mr. Cazalet — Miss Braithwaite. You know her songs, Owen — and so you know her- self. She's all one song. She evaporates in music. That's why 1 call her Blackbird, you see!" and Sacha smoothed her friend's head lovingly; "she's so tiny and so dark, and she's got so much voice in her for such a wee little bit of a thing. When she sings, she always re- minds me of a blackbird on a thorn bush, pour- ing out its full life in a soug a great deal too big for it. You know the way their throats seem to swell and burst with the notes? Well, Black- bird's throat dt^es just the same. She wastes herself in music." Blackbird unclasped her hands from behind her neck, and shook her head solemnly. Owen observed now it was well-shaped, and covered, with straight glossy hair, as black and as shiny as her namesake's plumage. "Pure- poetical fancy, evolved after the fact!" she said, smil- ing sadly, with the air of a woman who shat- ters against the grain one more cherished delu- sion. "The reality's this. My parents were good enough to christen me Merle, after my Swiss relations, the Merle D'Aubigne's, and I'm called Merle at home, though I was Hope at Oxford. And when Sacha hdard the name, she _i i 152 UNDBR SEALED ORDERS. thought it extremely appropriate to my dark hair and eyes, and she Englished it as Blackbird. That's tlie whole truth of the matter. All this other imaginative nonsense about pouring my throat in song came ex paste facto. It has nothing to do with the name. So there's how myth grows." And she folded the two pale hands resignedly in front of her. Owen noted that "ea: poste facto^* with be- coming awe. Not for nothing had Blackbird studied dead tongues at Oxford. "Well, what do you think of the flat?" Sacha asked, with a compassionate glance at the poor weak little pessimist. "We've got it up nicely into form now, haven't we? Take a good look round the room, and then come and see my studio. " "You've done wonders," Owen answered, gazing about him, well pleased. "And it's charming, charming! How lovely you've made that corner there — with those draperies and pip- kins — and my Morocco mud ware too — so de- liciously Oriental. That's Miss Braithwaite's, I suppose — the grand piano in the comer?" The frail girl looked up at him, with those great sad eyes. "jVo^ Miss Braithwaite," she said calmly, and Owen noticed now at once a certain obvious disparity, as Sacha had sug- gested, between the full musical voice and the slender frame that produced it. "Not Miss Braithwaite, if you please. Saoha's arranged ail that already. She's a splendid hand at ar- ranging things, Sacha. She bosses the show, tiJ^ti^di ■■^i-w^e.-^i^effS9^im my dark hair as Blackbird. bter. All this !; pouring my acto. It has there's how the two pale icto^* with be- tad Blackbird ! flat?" Sacha ce at the poor it it up nicely 3 a good look and see my en answered, L "And it's r you've made )eries and pip- •e too — so de- raithwaite's, I )rnor?" m, with those thwaite," she ow at once a aha had sug- voice and the "Not Miss ha's arranged i hand at ar- ses the show, Kffi^'mifi'^vm UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 193 lone says, and I must admit she bosses it beau- tifully. So nice to have all the bother of living taken off your hands by a capable, masterful, practical person. That's what I admire so — in Sacha. Well, she's decided that we're all to be one family here — a pantisocracy, lone calls it. No Miss and no Misters. You're to be Owen and I'm to be Blackbird. lone's cook, she's out marketing now, and Sacha and I've just washed up the breakfast things. So, of course, it's ab- surd, in such a household as this, to think o£ calling one another^ Mr. What's - his - name or Miss So-and-so." ' , "I don't see why, I'm sure," Owen answered, much amused. "A lady's none the less a lady, surely, because she cau do something useful about her own house, as our grandmothers used to do." "But our grandmothers knew no Greek," Blackbird replied, going off at a most illogical tangent. "It's the combination that kills us, you know — Greek, and household drud- ' gery." "Come and see my studio," Sacha interposed cheerily, leading the way to the next room. It was Sacha's business to cut the little pessimist short whenever possible. And when the studio had been duly inspected they went on to the din- ing-room, and the bedrooms, and the kitchen, and the pantry, and the little scullery at the' back, and a stone-floored office behind, full of chemical apparatus. "Why, what's this?" Owen asked, surprised. ''£j n 124 UMDRR SEALED OROBRS. "Is Misfl Dracopoli scientific, then, as well as literary?" "Oh, dear no," Blackbird answered, with a languid druwl, but always in that same rich voice: "lone's nothing on earth. Like Du Man- ner's Postlethwaite, she's content to 'exist beau- tifully.' This is my laboratory, this room. But I've promised the girls never to make any dread- fully odorous stews in it. I couldn't get along without a laboratory, you know. I must have somewhere to do my chemical experimente." Owen scanned the frail little body from head io foot, alarmed. Was this what female educa- tion was leading our girls to? "Greek, music, chemistry!" he exclaimed, gazing dowu upon her five feet two from the calm height of his own towering masculine stature. "You don't mean to say you combine them all in your own sole person!" "And not much of a person at that!" Black- bird answered, with a faint sigh. "Yes, that's how I wab brought up. It's the fault of the sys- tem. My r iw material all went oflf in brain and nerfes, I'm afraid. I worked those so hard, there was nothing at all left to build up blood, and bone, and flesh, and muscle." "But why on earth did you do it?" Owen couldn't help exclaiming. For Blackbird's frank remark was so obviously true. It might be rude of him to admit it, but he didn't feel inclined to contradict a lady. "I didn't do it," Blackbird answered piteous- ly. "It was my people who educated me. You an, as well as worod, with a hat same rich Like Du Mau- to 'exist bean- liis room. But ike any dread- Idti't get along I must have •erimente." •ody from head female educa- ' Greek, music, ig dowu upon height of his "You don't U in your own that!" Black- "Yes, that's ault of the sys- ifF in brain and those so hard, build up blood, do it?" Owen T Blackbird's rue. It might he didn't feel jwered piteous- ated me. You ,. / UNDER SEALEOr ORDERS. 125 see, they thought I was clever — perhaps I was, to Htart with, and thoy crammed mo with every- tliing on earth a girl could learn— Latin, Greek, modern languages, mathematics, natural science, music, drawing, dancing, till I was stuffed to the throat with thom. Je suisjusque /<>," and she put her hand to her chin with some dim attempt at feminine playfulness. "Like Strasbourg geese, " slie added slowly in a melancholy after thought. "It may be good for the brain, but it's precious bad for the body. " Owen stretched his big shoulders back and ex- jmnded his chest involuntarily. The mere sight of that weak frame seemed to make him assert his own physical prowess by automatic contrast. "But why do you go on with it now?" he asked simply. "Why continue to work at this chem- iatiy, for example? In poky London rooms, you want all the fresh air you can get, surely. How infinitely better, now, instead of chemistry, to join a lawn tennis club." Blackbird shrank back as if terrified. "A lawn tenuis club!" she cried, all amazed. "Oh, doar, they'd be so rough. They'd knock one about so. I can't bear being bullied. That's why I like Sacha and lone so much. They're strong, but they don't bully you. Oh, dear, oh, dear, I could never play tennis. I've been brought up to mix chemicals, and read books, and compose music ; and it's like a reflex action now. I compose automatically. I test for acids like a machine. I've learned to do these things till I can't get on without doing them." % • t4 m-:- 126 TTm>RR SRALRD ORDERS. Sacha turned tu him quickly, and said some- thipg short in a hinguage which Blackbird didn't underBtand, good linguist though sho wan. But Owon know that the Russian sentence she ut- tered so fast meant this in effect: "That's just why I took hor to live with us here. She's so frail and frightened, she needs somehodj' bright to put sunshine iu her life, somebody strong and strong willed to protect her and encourage her." "JWy own i>eople are strong, you know," Black- bird went on in the same plaintive voice, watch- ing a still as she spoke, "ana they always bully me. They're Philistines, of course; but do you know, I think Philistines are really the very worst on education. From the day I was born, almost, they kept me constantly at it. Papti's a colonial broker— though I'm sure I don't know what he brokes, or what broking is — but he de- cided from the time I was a baby in arms, I was to be thoroughly well educated. And educate 1 1 was — oh, my, it's just dreadful to me even now to look back upon it. Music, from the time I could hardly finger the piano. Greek, as soon as I knew my English letters; mathematics, when most girls are only beginning arithmetic, Strum, strum, strum, from breakfaet to bedtime. And then at seventeen I was sent to Lady Mar- garet. That was the first happy time I ever knew in my life. The girls were so nice to me. There was one girl, I remember — " But at that moment, a latchkey turned sharp in the door, and a light foot entered. The sun- shine had come. Owen turned round with a m. atl Raid some- Hckbird didn't ?ho wan. Biit Qtence she ut- "That's just lere. She's bo Tiebody bright idy strong and icourage her." enow," Blaok- voice, watch- T always bully M); but do you (ally the very ly I was born, t it. Papa's a I don't know is — but he de- in arms, I was iLnd educate-! I ) me even now »m the time I Sreek, as soon mathematics, ag arithmetic. let to bedtime. 1 to Lady Mar- f time I ever so nice to me. r turned sharp red. The sun- round with a UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 127 beating heart. "Is that lone Dracopoli?" he asked, trembling, of Sacha. And even as ho spoke, a tripping figure with a basket held gayly in one hand burst quick into the laboratory. "Why, hero's Owen!" the girl cried, seizing both his hands like an old friend. "I thought I heai'd his voice ! Well, I do call this jolly I' ' chaptp:u XIV. lONB IN ENGLAND. When Owen had recovered his breath enough to take a good look at h^p, he saw in a moment for himself lone was simply charming. In Morocco, he had wondered vaguely more than once in his own mind how much of hor nameless magic fit first sight was due merely to the 'oddity and piquancy of her dress, and the quaintness of the circumstances. You don't ex- pect to meet a stray English girl every day, per- vading untrodden Atlas in male Moorish attire, and astride on her saddle horse like a man and a brother. "Perhaps," he had said to himself — trying to reason down his admiration, for Mr. Hayward's sake, and in the interests of the Cause — "perhaps if one saw her in London in ordinary English clothes, one would think no ■'V;'l II 1S8 UNDRK HKALBD ORDBRg, rnort> of her thim of tho iivornfro young woman ono t«keH down any day in tho woek, todinnor," WoU, he had tho opportunity nuw of testing this half-formed idea— and ho found it broak down in practice moHt coucluHively. loue wa« beauti- ful, not a doubt in the world alK)ut that; a» bright, as taking, nay, even for that matter as original and hh free in her loose Liberty dross as even in the embroidered jacket and Turkish trousers of her North African experiences. A beautiful girl, fresh, fair and vivacious; a perfect contra,st to Blackbird in her fluffy chest- nut hair, her vitality, her strength; to Saeha in her boundless spirits, her quick ways, her flowing talk, her very boisterousness and cheeriness. "So here's Owen," she repeated after a mo- ment, turning the contents of her basket out on the scullery table with delicious frankness. "Well, tliis is just too nice for anything! I'm BO glad I've not missed you. Come along then, Owen, and make yourself generally useful in tho kitchen, like a good fellow. You may help me, if you like, to get the lunch things ready." There was a fall in Russians. Mr. Hayward and tho Cause went instantly down to Zero. Owen was coTiscious at that moment of only two objects in the whole round world, lone Dra- copoli, and a violent palpitation under his own left waistcoat. Never was luncheon prepared by so many cooks as that one. This was their first morning in the flat, so they were new to the work as yet, and besides, flirtation and cookery went band ict young woman ok, todinnor." of tofltiuK thiB it brofvk dov.'n ue wtw beiiuti- ibout that; a» ■\\at matter iih iberty droHH na and TurkiHh irionooa. I vivacioiiB; a er fluflfy chest- i; to Sachn in ya, hor flowing heeriness. )d after a nic- er basket out 3US frankness, nythiug! I'm no along then, y useful in tho may help me, i ready." Mr. Hayward own to Zero, ment of only rid, lone Dra- iinder his own by so many • first morning le work as yet, went hand ict .^■>.\,:''.r „ rNDRR BRALKD ORnBRfl. lao hi nd tf)gethor. 'Twas Arcadia in Pimlico. lone, in her soft woolen torra-ootta, gown, with white apron in front, and num-cook's cap con- lining hor free ciiOBtiiut lucks above, looked oven prettier than ever in her now cajHtcity. Owen liold the saucepans for her to mix things in as in the seventh heaven, or atirreil tie custard on the stovt! with rapturous fingers. Sacha pro- pared tho moat, and took charge of tho fire and tho oven. Blackbird sat by, and exercised a general critical supervision of a pt^ssimistio character. She knew tho soup could never turn out right like that, and she had the gloomiest possible views of her own as to the success of the lemon cheesecakes. But the event didn't justify tlttr'Cassandra of the flat, for lunch, when it arrived, was most brilliantly successful. About three o'clock, however, as they rested from their toil after washing up the dishes, there came a ring at the bell, and lone, who had jxieped out with Intent to answer it, di'evv her head back suddenly, spying strangers through the stained glass panels of the outer door. "GDodness gracious, girls," she cried, all ag^, glancing down at her apron, "what shall we ever do? I declare — it's visitors!" "Visitors!" Sacha replied. "And already! Impossible!" « lone seized Owen most unceremoniously by t!ie arm, and pushed him forwaitl into the pas- sage. "You go and answer it, Owen," she said, laughing. ."You're tho most presentable of the lot, and it's men, I think. Qentlemen." '■f Ai 130 UNDKR HEALED ORDERS. Owen went to the door. Sure enough two strangers stood there, in the neatest of frock coats, and the glossiest of tall hats, with hot- house flowers in their buttonholes — a couple of men-about-town, Owen thought to himself, with fine contempt at first sight, if ever he saw a pair. They were aged about thirty and looked as though their collars were their main object in life. Owen took a prejudice against them at a glance. These fellows were too dapper and too well groomed by far for the big-limbed athlete's rough country-bred fancy. "I beg your pardon," the tallest and handsom- est of the two said with an apologetic air — he wore a gardenia in his buttonhole. "I think we must have made a mistake. Does Miss Braith- waite live here?" Owen held the door ajar dubiously in his hand, and blocked the entrance with his big frame as he answered in no very friendly voice, "She does. Do ^ou want to see her?" The yoimg man with the gardenia answered more modestly than Owen expected, "Well, we'd like to send our cards in, and if Miss Braithwaite's not engaged, we'd be much obliged if she could spare us just a very few minutes." He> handed Owen his card as he spoke. Owen glanced at it and read, "Mr. Trevor Gardener." The gardenia was his mark, as it were, a sort of armoiries parlantes. The other man, who was shorter and darker, and wore an orchid in his buttonhole, handed ,-„,. ... ,.,.--:J&isMim$^^^i^^iiS&f: SRS. re enough two eateot of frock hats, with hot- es — a couple of :o himself, with p he saw a pair, and looked as main object in Eiinst them at a dapper and too imbed athlete's t and handsom- >logetic air — he i. "I think we 38 Miss Braith- isly in his hand, is big frame as ly voice, "She denia answered pected, "Well, 1, and if Miss e'd be much List a very fe^y e spoke. Owen vor Gardener." i were, a sort of ber and darker, bonhole, handed ,' UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 131 his at the same time. It bore the name, "Henley Stokes, 5 Pump Court, Temple." Owen couldn't say why, but the glossy tall hats and the neat frock coats put his back up inexpressibly. He retreated down the passage, with a hobbledehoy's awkwardness, leaving the two men standing sheepish at the open door, and said in a loud voice, more plainly than politely as he laid down the cards on the drawing-rorm table, "Two fellows outside, come to call upon Blackbird." "Show them in," Sacha replied, with as^much dignity as if he were her footman, instead of her brother, and Owen ushered them promptly into the bright little drawing-room. Mr. Gardener, with the gardenia, was, like Paul, the chief speaker. To be sure, he'd never n?et Blackbird before, that was clear, nor had his -friend either. They both bowed distantly with a certain awed respect as they took their seats, and as Blackbird iutroducech them infor- mally to the remainder of the company. But for a minute or two they talked society small talk about flats in general, and this flat in par- ticular, vvitho'it explaining the special business that had brought them there that afternoon. They began well, indeed, by admiring evpry- thing in the rooms, from floor to ceiling. But Owen noticed now, somewhat appeased, that in spite of their hats and coats they were distinctly nervous. They seemed to have something they wanted to say. without being able to muster up the needful courage for saying it. r^^'«'- "'■ :>1 >i'^ ■'/''■'■ft'-' « "*■' J^ ./''?' 132 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. At last the man with the gardenia ventured to turn to Blackbird with a pointblank remark, "I daresay you're wondering, Miss Braithwaite, what made us come to call upon you." "Well, I confess," Blackbird said languidly, in that rich clear voice of heis, *'I did rather ask myself what on earth you wanted with me." Mr. Trevor Gardener paused, and looked straight into her big eyes. He was more nerv- ous than ever; flut he made a ( leau b: ^ast of it. "I'm at tlie Stc-^k Exchange,' he eaid at last, after.a long-drawn interval. "In point of fact, I'm — I'm a broker." "That's bad!" lone put in with a twinkling eye full of mischief. Mr. Gai-dener turned full upon her a look of most obvious relief. His face brightened visi- "bly. *'Why, just so," he said, more at his ease. "'That's precisely what I always say myself. That's the reason I've come. A stockbroker's bad. Most ^useless exci-escence on the commu- nity, a stockbroker." "Exactly," Sacha interposed with her gravo quiet voice. "A middleman who perforir 'iu good service of anj' sort." • Mr. Gardener brightened still more. "i;,.ii there it is,, you see," he answered, rubbing tii;' hands together, well pleased. "I feel it myself; and so does Stokes, who's a barrister. He feels ' the bar's a fraud. That's what emboldened us to come. We're weighed down by a sense of our own utter uselessness. " "A very hopeful symptom," Sacha responded RS. lenia ventured blank remark, IS Braithwaite, ou." aid languidly, did rather ask with me." , and looked vas more nerv- lu breast of it. le gaid at last, point of fact, ch a twinkling I her a look of rightened visi- ore at his ease. '8 say myself. L stockbroker's >n the commu- vith her grave lo perfonr 'io more. "Ah, id, rubbing fa,;- feel it myself; ster. He feels ' emboldened us by a sense of acha responded UNDER SBALBD ORDERS smiling. "Conviction of sin comes first, repent- ance afterward. But how did you happen to hear of us?" Mr. Gardener pulled up his shirt collar, and rearranged his cuffs, to hide his embarrassment. "Well, we've the pleasure of knowing Mr. Braithwaite," he answered very tentatively. "Oh, indeed!" Blackbird replied, in a tone which showed clearly that acquaintance with her father was no particular introduction to her. "In business!" Mr. Gardener interposed, def- erentially, as who would deprecate her criticism. ■ "And we're musical — very musical. "We hopetl on that ground at least — though, perhaps, we're intruding." And he glanced at Owen, who sat, silent, on the defensive. "Not at all," Owen answered, much mystified, though with no very good grace. "We're pleased, I'm sure, to see you." "Well, we were dining at Mr. Braithwaite's club with him last night," the man with the gardenia went on, looking askance at Blackbird, who sat in the long chair toying languid with a fan. "And he happened to mention this com- pound household of yours, and what persons corr posed it. And it interested us very much, because we' ve both sung your songs, Miss Braith- waite, and both loved your music, and we've read Miss Dracopoli's delightful article on Morocco in the Biweekly Review with very great interest, and we've admired Miss Cazalet's Greek girls at the Academy. And though Mr. Braithwaite gave UB perhaps a somewhat unfavorable versioji of UNDER SEALED OBDERS. your aims and ideas — iDdeed, threw cold water upon them — I may venture to say we sympathized with your desire for a simpler mode of life." He glancetl down at his spotless shoes with a sort of niuto deprecation, and grew more inartic- ulate «till as the subject closed in upon him. "lu point of fact," he went on, growing red and stammering worse than ever, "we both admired you all for it immensely." "And so?" Sacha said, interrogatively. "And so — " Mr. Gardener went on, looking at his friend for assistance— "now, then, you help me out, Henley!" Mr. Stokes, thus dragged into it, grew red in the face in turn, and responded in h'is place, "Well, Trevor said to me, 'It's a shame, if these ladies want to stai't a new household on rational principles like that, they should have to do all the rough work of the house themselves, isn't it, Henley?' And I said, 'So it seems. It's not woman's place to bear the brunt of hard work. I wonder what they'd say, now, if you and I were to step round, and assure them of our — well, our sympathy with them in this new de- parture, and ask 'em if they'd allow us to call in every morning— before they get up, don't you know — without necessarily meeting them or knowing them socially at all — just to light the fires, and clean the grates, and black the boots, »*nd polish the knives, and all that sort of thing?' And Trevor said 'Capital.' And so we decided we'd ask. And now — well, now, if you please, we've come round-to ask you." DERS. hrew cold water 7 we sympathized r mode of life." ess shoes with a •ew more inartic- »d in upon him. growing red and we both admired 'ogatively. nt on, looking at ^ then, you help it, grew red in Bd in his place, a shame, if these jhold on rational d have to do all mselves, isn't it, seems. It's not it of hard work. V, if you and I 1 them of our — in this new do- low us to call in t up, don't you jetiug them or ist to light the black the boots, tt sort of thing?' d so we decided r, if you please, tJNDKR SEALED ORDERS. 135 Sacha looked at lone. lone looked at Sacha. Blackbird looked at both. And then all three together burst out laughing unanimously. That laugh saved the fort. Owen joined in, and so did the two young men, _ who really seemed, after all, like very good fellows. They laughed for twenty seconds without answering a word. Then Sacha mustered up gravity enough to say with a little burst, "But you see we don't know you!" "Oh, we're very respectable," Mr. Gardener put in, gazing down at his gardenia. "In fact, that's just it. "We're a great deal too respecta- ble. This monotony palls. And we thought it 80 brave of you to attempt an innovation. "We can give excellent references too, you know — in the city or elsewhere. My friend's an Oxford man. I'm a partner myself in Wilson, Gar- dener, and Isemberger; very well-known house; Eve's Court, Old Broad Street." And he folded one gloved hand somewhat beseechingly over the other. "But cracking the coal, you know?" lone suggested with a merry *winkle. "You couldn't do that, now, could you, with those light kid gloves on?" Mr. Gardener began hastily to remove one of the incriminated articles with little nervous tugs. "Oh, they come off, you know," he answered with a still deeper blush. "They don't grow there, of course. They're mfere separable acci- dents. And besides, we're so anxious to help. And we know Mr. Braithwaite. We can get 136 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. letters of introductiou, oh, just dozens of them, if you want them." "But wo thought it best," Mr. Stckes inter- posed, "to call at once, and strike while the iron was hot ; for we were afraid — well, like the fel- low at the' pool of Siloam, don't you know. "While we waited, some other might step in before us." Sacha was practical. She was also not too afraid of saying what she felt. "The best thing," she suggested after a moment's reflec- tion, looking t^e facts in the face, "would be for you both to stop to tea — and help us get it. Then we might see how far you're likely ta suit the place, and whether we can avail ourselves or not of your very kind offer." "That's capital!" Mr. Henley Stokes replied, looking across at his friend, and peeling his gloves off instantly. "If you try us, I'm sure you'll find we're not such a bad sor-t after all — not such duffers as we look. We're handy men about a house. And we're tired of being no use in the world to anybody anywhere." And indeed, before tea was over and dinner well cooked, the two young men had succeeded in making themselves so useful, so agreeable, and so ornamental as well, that even Owen's first prejudice died away by degrees, and he voted them both verj' decent fellows. lone re- marked in an audible aside that they were bricks, and Sache declared with candor they cquld do more than she fancied. In the end, it was unanimously agr^d the oommunity should *r,;.»,.^^ BRS. iozens of them, Ir. Stckes inter- e while the iron ell, like the fel- in't you know, might step iu as also not too Bit. "The best noment's reflec- ace, "would be [ help us get it. 're likely to suit s^ail ourselves or Stokes replied, md peeling his :ry us, I'm sure sor-t after all — e're handy men of being no use i-e." )ver and dinner n had succeeded 1, so agreeable, it even Owen's legrees, and he lUows. lone re- :hat they were th candor they In the end, it nmunity should UNDBB SBAX.BD OBDBRS. 137 accept their proffered services for the present, and during good behavior, and that they might begin if they liked by lighting the fires and blacking the boots at half -past six next morning. "Hooray, Trev," Mr. Stokes exclaimed in a tone of triumph, looking across at his friend. "This is something like prepress ! This is better than stock broking!" "I'm sure we're very much obliged to you in- deed," Mr. Gardener added, with a cheerful glance at a coal mark on his spotless cuff. "And to show you we've no intention of in- truding upon you in any way beyond what's strictly necessary in the way of business" — he t(>)k up his hat as he spoke— "we'll now bid you good-evening." CHAPTER XV. AN INVITATION. In a week or two it was clear to the members of the phalanstery the. young men with the frock coats were an unmitigated success. "Our boys," as lone called them, turned out trumps in every way. In spite of their kid gloves and their buttonhole bouquets, they weren't afraid of hard work, but buckled to with a will at the rough jobs of the household. As a rule, indeed, the joint mistresses of the flat saw little or ntJth- ing of their amateur raenservants. They went to bed at night, leaving the ashes in the grates f& ise UNDER SEAT^ED ORDERS. and their shoes at their doors, and woke in the morning to find everything cleared up, the rooms well warmed, and the house swept and gar- nished, as if by friendly fairies. To be sure, this ai'rangement necessitated the intrustiog of a latchkey to Mr. Gardener, the head-servant of the two — a step as to the wisdom and desirability of which Sacha at first somewhat hesitfited. But the young men were so modest, so good-natui'ed, BO unobtrusive, and so kindly withal, that they very soon felt sure they were perfectly trust- worthy. As Blackbird remarked, they were too simple-hearted to make it worth while sticking at conventions on their account. Mrs. Grundy was not evolved for such as they were. Still, though the girls saw "Our Boys" but at rare intervals, when those willing slaves loitered late over the fires, or when the locks got out of order, or when the windows wanted cleaning, common gratitude compelled them from time to time to ask their benefactors in to afternoon tea, that mildest and most genial of London enter- tainments. The young men themselves, to bo sure, protested with fervor that such politenesses were unnecessary; it was for the sake of the principle they came, they said, not for the sake of the persons. Yet from a very early period of their acquaintance Sacha fancied slie noticed Mr. Henley Stokes betraj'ed a distinct liking for Blackbird's society; while Mr. Gardener with tbe-gardenia (a point of honor to the last) paid particular attention, she observed, if not to her- self at least to her pictures. A nice, honest -tftiiftriiiiiliilliirfihtr- Wyri & t ftU( il * l rto •*. r-'AaRe»*'-^i"''t^^^:a(- - V. BBS. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 139 and woke in the dd up, the rooms swept and gar- To be sure, this intrusting of a head-servant of and desirability hesitfited. But io good-natui'ed, vithal, that thoy perfectly trust- d, they were too h while sticking ;. Mrs. Grundy ' were. lur Boys" but at ig slaves loitered locks got out of 'anted cleaning, em from time to to afternoon tea, E London enter- liemselves, to bo mch politenesses :he sake of the not for the sake y early period of she noticed Mr. binct liking for Gardener with the last) paid d, if not to her- A nice, honest I young man, Mr. Gardener, at least, and as imlike as possible to Sacha's preconceived idea of the eternal and absolute typical stock- broker. So she said to herself, indeed, one day, when from the recesses of Mr. Gardener's light ovor- <;oat hung up in the hall, there tumbled by acci- dent — a small Russia leather bound volume. Mr. « Gardener, with a blush, tried to pick it up unob- served and smuggle it back into its place ag^in. But Sacha's eye was too quick for him. She read in a moment the gilt lettering on the back. "Why, it's poetry!" she exclaimed in surprise. "It's Keats! What do you do with him?" Mr. Gardener stammered like a schoolboy dis- covered in the flagrant crime of concealing a crib. "I — er — I read him," he answered after a brief pause, with much obvious confusion. "In the city?" Sacha asked smiling. Mr. Gardener pluckeii up courage at her smile to confess the shameful truth. "Well, a stock- broker, you know," he said, "has so much time hanging idle on his hands, when there's noth- ing going on in his office; and it's such an un- satisfactory sort of trade at the best ; and you feel it does you no good either spiritually or phys- ically, or anybody else either, for the matter of that; so in the interests of my work I try— er — I try to develop as far as I can my own higher na- ture. And in the mornings, I come here to light the fires and all that. And in the evenings I go down. to my boys and girls at Stepney." "What's that?" Sacha asked quickly, catching ^f 140 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. the hint at onco. "I haven't heard about them yet." Mr. Gardener Icxjked modest again. "Oh, a fellow must do something you know," ho said, '•just to justify his existoncse. And m I'm well off, Hud strong and healthy and all that, and so- ciety doos so much for me, I feel bound in return to give a helping hand with these pocjr East End peopio of mine— both in the way of organization and in tho way uf amusement." Saoha l(M>ked at him with some admimtion. There was a sturdy honep^y ;>f purpose about this modest young man that touched her Russian heart to tho core. And she liked his reading Keats too; it was a point in his favor. For he wasn't the least bit namby-jnimby with it all either, in spite of his blushes and his light kid gloves. She could see when he talked about his gymnasium at Stepney a few days lutor, that he was a tolerable athlete, and he cleaacd grates and split coal—like no working man in London. When he proposed to lone that she and Sacha and Blackbird should come down to his Hall at Stepney one evening to teach his lads to dance, they were all delighted. And wheiuthey went there, and found themselves among these rough East End young men, lone at least thought it as jolly good fun as any Belgravia ballroom. "You see, miss," her first partner explained to her, in a confidential undertone, "Ave chaps learns this sort o' thing a sight better from a lady than from our own young women. Ladies doesn't larf at us, and a chap don't like to be tiAt BR8. tJNDBR SEALED ORDERS. Ul )ard about them again. "Oh, n know," ho said, A.nd ivs I'm well all that, and so- bound in return e pocjr East End ' of organization )me admiiation. irpose about this ed her Russian ked his reading i favor. For he nby with it all m\ his light kid talked about his >-8 lutor, that he > cleaaod grates man in London. .t she and Sacha 'n to bis Hall at :s lads to dance, when. they went ong these rough 1st thought it as ballroom, uer explfdned to ne, "we chaps it better from a vomen. Ladled don't like to be larfed at. Our own galH, they calls us 'now ttion, clumsy,' and all such sort o' names. But a lady's more patient like. You shows us the stej*, and we can pay more attention then, coz we knows you aint a-larfing at us." "There's nothing to laugh at," lone answered gravely, surveying her stalwart young coster- mouger with not unapproving eyes. "We all have to begin. I had to hegiu myself once. And as for laughing, you should have seen how the people laughed at mo over yonder in Mor(»cco when firdt I dressed up in Moorish costume like my picture in the paper there, and tried to ride as a man does! I laughed at myself for that matter, till I thought I should never catch my breath again." And sho smiled at him so sweet- ly that that yom.g costermonger went home per- fectly sober that night, and talketl to his "gal" about the faces of the angels in heaven. Which naturally made his young woman jealous, for she knew at once where the unwonted sugges- tion had come from. So for four or five weeks events at the flat went on smoothly enough, and Trevor Gai-dener and Henley Stokes grew gradually on the foot- ing of friends of the family. They even ven- tured to drop in of an evening, when Sacha's work was done, and lone had washed up the din- ner things, to accompany Blackbird in one of her own plaintive songs, or to read Austin Dobson and Lang to the assembled household. They in- troduced Hope indeed, to the Ballade of Sleep; and th? poor girl spent at least a dozen wakeful 148 UNDGK SEALED ORDERS nighta ia composing iipt miiHic li)etweon tho ohmging liourn for that coiigoniul dirgo of dead ttnd buriwi Bluinber. At tho oud of that timo, however^ an event oc- ourrod which Htirrod the deep heart of tho flat to its iirafoundoHt reoosHos. Owoix ciamo up one day from Moor Hill, glad of so good an oxcuho — with a lett(>r from Lady Beaumont, just ro- coivetl by post at tho Red Cottage. So gracious a letter from the county mem- ber's wife Het thorn all wondering what on earth the great lady could want with them. "My dear Mk. Oazalkt," it began ("quite affectionate!" lone Baid, si king out her chest- nut locks round her hetu ly dear Mr. Caza- let ! " ) , "Sir Arthur wishe. /ery particul arly to write and ask you whether yoU could come up to my At Homo on -Wednesday week,, for which I inclose a card for you and your dear sister. Wo expect Lord Gaistor; and as I know your desire to enter the Diplomatic Service, it can do you no harm to make his acquaintance before- hand. Several of our artistic friends are so anx- ious to meet Sacha too; and that, as you know, may be of use to her in future. One should al- ways make friends of the Mammon of Unright- eousness, as represented on the Hanging Com- mittee. And if you could persuade her two companions, Miss Dracopoli and Miss Braith- waite, to come with you both, we should be so very much obliged to you. Many of our young men want so much, to know them. Apologize K-*<'i SRH. ic Ixitweou tho il dirgo of (leiul rer, an event oc- art of tho flat to 1 c!!imo up imo pood an excuHo turnout, juBt ro- e. B county mem- g what on earth hem. ; began ("quite g out hor chest- dear Mr. Caza- ery particularly 1 could come up veeky-for which y-our dear sister, as I know your jrvioe, it can do aiiitauce bef ore- ends are so aux- ;, as you know, One should al- non of Unright- Hanging Com- rsuade her two id Miss Braith- we should be so ly of our young em. Apologize r^DBR HBALICD ORDKRS. 143 forme to Bacha; I would have written to her direct, but I don't know tho addresH of this fam- (lUH joint-stock flat of hers that everybcMly's talk- ing about. It's made (}uite a sensation among \\w advanced woman's rights women. They siiy it mak(>s an epoch. **Itj breathless haste, " Ifours very sincerely, "An AST ASIA Beaumont." "She wants to lionize us," lone cried, looking up with her very unleouine soft, round face, "and I refuse to be lionized 1" "I never will sing in houses wliere I'm asked ou purpose," little Blackbird sail wearily. "It's a rudeness to ask one just for what they think they can get out of one. ' "But what a clever woman of the world she is," Sacha put in with a wise smile. "She doesn't say a word about what she wants, her- self, but what she thinks will attract us on the ground of our own interest. Lord Caistor for Owen; possible patrons for me; admiration for you two — it's really very sharp of her." "For my part," Owen interposed, with a side f^lance at lone in her dainty girlish beauty, "I think what they want first is the girl who rode through Morocco alone, and second, to be polite to a possible future constituent." "The question is, shall we go?" Sacha asked, always practical. "Apart altogether from their motives, is it worth omr while to accept, or isn't it?" 144 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. "Will you £0?" lone asked, turning point- blank to Owen. Owen felt his heart throb. Oh, Mr. Hay- ward, Mr. Hay ward, this girl will be too much tor you! "Yes, I think so," he said, slowly. " .... To see Lord Caistor." "Then I think I'll go too," lone answered with a burst. "After all, it'll be fun; and I love these big crushes. You always find some- body you can shock in them somewhere. If I was to go in my Moorish costume now — just fanny, what a success! How Lady Beau- mont would bless me! It'd bo in all the papers." ^ Owen's heart beat higher still. Ho knew lone wanted to go because he would take her. And it luade him feel so happy — and so very, very miserable. What would Mr. Hayward say if only he knew? But — is this the metal of which to mold a revolutionist? ■^ For to Owen, the Cause was a very real and a very sacred thing. And he was imperiling its future, ho knew but too well- -for the sake of a womaiu They talked mtich that afternoon, and h"azarded many guesses, as to why Lady Beaumont [had bidden them all to her At Home. But not one of them came anywhere near the real reason of her invitation. For the truth was that Madame Mireff had said, in the most casual way, though with a sudden magnetic glance of those great luminous eyes of hers, "I wish, Anastasia, you'd ask that Sacha Somebody when you have me >'*)-»4*j Nihilist friends even have ever set eyes on him." "Then how do they know he's alive?" the lady asked, with languid interest. "■p.«^y?;iMssg»aiWs^tsasSfe?!>it'QB?^^.v ERB. nister before, to it once from the otographe in the not the famous ), bfis still more y who was chat- a told her, some- words, it could •eflf, the Russian )utly believed to ord Caistor him- ity, his Foreign t he?" the thin isked curiously. "Hehadmil- ; away half his years ago; and ory wisely seized Ingland at iill?" cing sidewise at [dors again, mswered, with a I sal-*? Prince i care you may way. He works told, indeed, it's •> Nihilist friends alive?" the lady immmmfifim^ UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 147 "Ah, that's just the odd part of it," Sir Arthur replied, still gazing across at the stranger with the big, speaking eyes. "They say, though no- body ever sees him, he's still the active head of Jill the party in Western Europe; and the Rus- sian Government has constantly of late years intercepted letters and documents signed in his handwriting. But if he's to lie found at all, you may be perfectly sure Madame Mireff will find him. She's keen as a bloodhound, persistent as a beagle. She's clever enough for anything." Sacha rose and moved imobtrusively across the room to Owen, who was standing with lone near the doorway, in the opposite corner. She uad just time to murmur low to him in Russian: "Owen, beware of the woman who's talking there to Lord Caistor. She's a spy of the Czar's. She's come over here to look out for some Nihilist refu- gee." And even as the words escaped her lips, Lady Beaumont sidled across to her. "Oh, Sacha, my child," she sal 1, quite aflfeo- tionately, taking her hand with much warmth, like a good society hostess, *'I'm so glad you've come. There's a friend of mine here who's just dying to know you. And you've brought Miss Dracopoli, too, I see. I recognize you. Miss Dracopoli, by your likeness in the Qraphic. How good of you to came round to my little gathering t I know you're so much engaged — everybody's fighting for you just at present, of course — the tail-end of the season ! . Come over this way with me, and I'll introduce you to Lord Caistor. And you must come, too, Owen. Mad- ■.^1 UNDKR SBALBD ORDBBS. ame Mireflf — one moment — excuse my interrupt- ing you. This is the clever young artist whose picture you admired so much at the Academy the other day— Miss Cazalet, Mr. Cazalet." Owen bowed low, with an nwkward feeling of unwonted restraint. Never before in his life had he stood face to face with an avowed enemy of the Cause — one of the bureaucratic ring; and be felt at once the novelty and diflSculty of the position. As for Sacha, she held herself very erect and proud, hardly nodding her head; but her breath came and went, and her face flashed crimson. "I'm glad .... my work .... interested you," she said with an evident effort. She'd have given millions to get away. The strain and stress of it was horrible. But Madame Mireff only Ijeamed upon her vrith those famous soft eyes, and said, with real kindness of tone : - "Yes, it was beautiful, beautiful. I picked it out ai once from all the pictures in the room. It had soul in it— soul in it. It went straight to my Russian heart — for you know, Miss Cazalet, I'm before all things a Russian. And everything about Russia always thrills me to the finger-tips. "We Slavs feel the magic of our common Sla- vonic ancestry far more, I believe, than any Western people. Russia holds us by some spell. Cela nous entraine. Cela nous fascine." Owen opened his eyes wide at this unexpected profession of faith— the enthusiasm with which madame spoke reminded him so exac'Jy of Mr. ^/ ■Wi: DKRS. use my interrupt- oung artist whose at the Academy [r. Cazalet." vkward feeling of fore ia his life had avowed enemy of acratic ring; and 1 diflSculty of the held herself very Qg her head; but [ her face flashed .... interested nnt effort. She'd way. The straiti Ijeamed upon her tnd said, with real itiful. I picked it 88 in the room. It t went straight to low, Miss Cazalet, And everything ) to the finger-tips, our common Sla- believe, than any > us by some spell. >MS fascine." at this unexpected isiasm with which ; so exac'Jy of "Mr. J- v •» '* lfo-£'!»w.'/ 'fr/ ■,^ . UNDER SEAIiRD ORDERS. 149 Hayward's own in his moments of deepest pa- triotic fervor. Was it possible, then, that these bureaucrats even — the despots, the enemy —shared that same unquenchable Slavonic zeal that burned bright like a fire in the friends ot the Cause — the lovers of their country? But Sacha only answered coldly, in her very dryest voice: ^ ,* - "I fail to perceive the connection you draw between my picture and Russia." Madame glanced back at her, all motherliness, with kind, melting eyes, in spite of this first re- buff. Her glance was mesmeric. "Why, surely," she said, oxerting every spell she knew, "the spirit, at least, the spirit is pure Russian. I cried out to Lady Beaunpiont the mo- ment I saw it: 'There's Slav in that canvas!' and Lady Beaumont answered me: 'Oh, that's Sacha Cazalet's picture.'' So when I heard your name was Sacha, of course I took it for granted at once your mother at least must have been more or less of a Russian." "You're mistaken," Sacha replied, in the same hard, dry tone. "My mother, on the cor*,rary, was a pure-blooded Englishwoman." "Your father, then?" madame suggested, quickly. Sacha parried the blow at once. * ' Really, ' ' she said, ' ' I don't admit my genea- logical tree has anything at all to do with my picture." Madame left the false track sharply with a diplomatist's instinct. _ ^ 160 UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. "Well, the painting's a lovely one, at any rate," she said, sweetly; "au,' the qualities in it that struck me as Slavonic are at least quali- ties of high idealism and profound moral truth. Whatever race inspires them, one surely can't Belp admiring those, Miss Cazalet. There's u freedom, a gracefulnegs, a vitality, an uncou- ventionality abc - tiie lithe figures of your beauti- ful classical girls that took my fancy immensely. And Aspasia herself —in the center — what a soul- fill conception ! So vivid and intense ! Like our b"-t Russian girls nowadays — free as the air; kee.i as the wind ; fresh as the morning dew ; yet capable, one could feel, of yielding her life like water to any good cause that in after days might demand it." Owen listened astonished. The voice was the same, though the words were so different. Was this the true Russian note, then? La vi^ pour le Tsar or Death for Freedom! Madame drew a vacant chair to her side and motioned Sacha into it. A^inst her will, as if drawn by some spell, Sacha sat down, burning inwardly. Owen stood by, in his big manliness, and bent over them, listening. Then madame began laying herself out, as only a trained diplo- mati.'jt and woman of the world could have done to make a conquest of Sacha. By slow degrees she led round the conversation to Saoha's art and her friends. She discussed lone with Owen, praising her beauty enthusiastically ; she dis- cussed Burne-Joi^es with Sacha, finding some thing in common between the profounder Celtic ■ t"^^] VfSS». ely one, at any the qualities in ire at least quali- mil moral truth, one surely can't zalet. There's a ality, an uncou- •es of your beauti- fancy immensely, iter — vfhatasoul- ttense ! Like our -free as the air; aorning dew ; yet ding her life like after days might rhe voice was the 5 different. Was n? La vid pour .1 • r to her side and nst her will, as if at down, burning lis big manliness, '. Then madame ly a trained diplo- 1 could have done By slow degrees to Saoha's art and [one with Owen, jtically ; she dis- bia, finding some- profounder Celtic -"■2»j-..^?f"?'iS>,'' UNDBB SBALBD OKDER8. 161 I and Slavonic temperaments. Gradually, bit by bit, even Sacha gave way. She admitted the fascination of the woman who had talked over Lord Caistor and changed a Foreign Policy. Her conversation was so easy, so alluring, so simpatica. As for Owen, he bent over her, entranced, feeling the nameless attraction to a lad of a ripe woman of the w^orld, ready and willing to deploj^all her manifold charms of body and mind in one serried phalanx for his momen- tary captivatiou. lone glanced across once or twice from her artlessly girlish self -revelation to that amused Lord Caistor, and felt her heart give a jump of doubt and fear within her. That hor- rid g^at Russian woman with the big, staring eyes was surely too much for any lad of twenty I What struck OWen more and more, however, tlie more freely madame talked, was the absolute identity (in fiber) of her Ruse^'^n enthusiasm with Mr. Hayward's. Though the Russia of which she spoke was the Russia of the tyraifts, yet the devotion with which she spoke of it ^vas the de- votion of the patriots. It was C?;arc ad ISmpress against Land and People. For the first time in his life it dawned uptm Owei fainiiy that what he had here to deal with was in essence a tempera- ment. Madame Mireff and Mr. Hayward saw the opposite sides of the same shield, according to their different fronts of view, but were both equally vehement and intense in the idea they formed of it. That's Russia all over. Your Slav is, above all things, a dreamer and an enthusiast. i*-'., 1^ 1S3 UNDKR 8KALBD ORIMBR8. At last, after much long and cleverly-guided diBCourBe, inudame had Hiicceeded in making even Sacha herself admit grudgingly in her own mind that the Czar's spy, in her private capacity, at apy rate, was an extremely agreeable, nay, well- meaning person. She had a rare gift of insinu- ating herself into your confidence, somehow; of taking such a deep interest in your mind and your feelings that you couldn't help warminjj up in the end into some responsive expansivoncss. Then, suddenly, in the midst of her easy-going talk, madame turned round to her and fixed her with her glittering eye. "In fact," she said, jMsuncing upon her with a strange foreign tongue, "as our itussian proverb puts it, 'The smooth-worn stone on the river's bed can never understand why the pebbles on the bank find the sun's heat unpleasant.' " She said it in Russian, as if she expected to be understood ; and even as she uttered tho words, she fixed her piercing glance, full of in(|uiry, on Sacha's face. Owen bent over, still more atten- tive, wondering whether, thus attacked by so un- expected a flank movement, Sacha — that calm, imperturbable Sacha — would be taken oflF her guard or not. But the phlegmatic Slavonic temperament, almost Oriental in its passivity, stood her there in good stead. Sacha never moved a muscle of her quiet face, or changed color for a second. "What does that mean?" she asked, languidly. "Will you kindly translate for us? As yet, thank Heaven, Russian isnH added to German and '■■,^-- ■'^■' >i;r8. UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. 163 I cleverly-guided din making even in her own mind vtite capacity, at >eable, nay, well- re gift of inginu- ice, somehow; of i your mind and I't help warming ve expanbivpness. f her easy-going her and fixed her ; upon her with a ' Russian proverb le on the river's he pebbles on the sant' " the expected to be ttered tho words, ull of incjuiry, on , still more atten- ittacked by so un- acha — that calm, be ta^en off her gmatic Slavonic in its pHssivity, i. Sacha never face, or changed asked, languidly. IB? As yet, thank to German and I ' French as a necessary part of an English girl's idueation." Madame 's keen eye still rested on her like a Imwk's. She translated it— wrong. "The polar bear xvonders the grizzly should think hia climate coid," she answered, with a hlttud smile of childlike innocence. But even so, Sacha gave no sign. Just the faintest tinge of ii cantemptnous curl at the corner of her mouth iilone betrayed, if at all, her consciousness of the attempted deception. "Very true," she said, calmly. "We can only sympathize to the full with the iioublt« and joys we've ourselves experienced." Madame gave it up again for the present. This girl was too deep for her. It was only at the end of the evening, after talking to many other of her willing slaves meanwhile, that the unaccredited agent returned to the Cazalets with a charming smile and an outstretched hand. "Well, good-night," she said. "An revoir, that is — for I must meet you again. You remind me S3 of dear friends — dear friends of mine in lluasia. And your brother — when I saw him, it gave me quite a little start. . . . He's so ex- traordinarily like poor SergiusSelistoff of Peters- burg." It was a sharp home-thrust — their own father's name ! — but Owen hoped he'd avoided it. He blushed and bowed. A young man may fairly blush when his personal app. ^rpuce is under disouffiion. •Mm revoir, then,'* he said, as frankly and '■■Wi'. • H-f'iAw; Uk 154 Uira>RR SBALKD ORDERlt. ^■ unconcernedly as he was ubie. "It'H su kind uf you to put it BO." Ah they wont home to the flat in the cab, an unwonted silence opprewsed lonii. Hiw said noth- ing far a lung time; then at last she oliHerved, with much seeming insoucianre: "What fi, talk you had, Owen, with that fat Madame Mireft'! She's handsume, too, isn't sbf — even now I Must have been beautiful whpii she was young! And what oyen she made at you, and how she stuck to you like a k>ech ! It's a groat thing to be six ieet two — in Russia— ap- parently!" But at that self-stimo moment Lady Beaumont, wearied out with the duties of her post, was say- ing, with a yawn to lior friend in the empty ech ! It's < — in RusHia— ap- Lady Beaumont, ler p«jBt, was «iy- ttd in the empty ind out what you iswer : I. That is to say, [an, of course; as S whether they're ,6 or not, I don't ust make further Siberia, I trust!" ■iously. For she ) Owen. and surveyed her innocent surprise, beria! Oh, dear, idiculous miscon- >«»• UMDEU BBALKD ORDERS. ccption! Must I exphiin it every day? Will \ uii never understand us? Siberia is to Russia what Botany Bay wtus once t<> England. We sand our iTiminals there. It's a jHjnal settle- ment, not a Bastille nor place of exile lOr piliti- i.al otfouders. But you English will never givo us credit fi)r any good of any sort — never, never, jiover. That's your thick-headed Toutonism, my dear. The Fn nch have more esprit. .They nee through all that hl(iKR8. tn at Lmly Beau- UH youiiff friend, interview, wbh u '■oil didn't betmy i Hi((ht, RH one of s imnienHely ini- bnve all thiii^, with that hatefid tifUH of the repul- [aywnrd," Owen i, I rather flatttsr feelings perfectly mask. And be- 1 aeenie er alwiiys, in this iH a Ihing every it strenuously. I ed against every las received some evotion, the hero- . In their place, ill, they're a dis- Owen ; a disturb- ermiue principles i conceivably un- wifiiF UNDER HBAI.RD ORDRR8. " 167 dermine. You know, my boy, T don't mean to preach to you; 1 was never a iiiinibug; and, m always, I pn»fer to lot your individuality have free play for itself. But if ever you see auythiug more of Mmlamo Olgii Miretf, I would say to you HH a friend, reganling you now nn a fellow- workor and onthuHiast for the Causo, my advice in just this— keep clear of entanglements, were it for practice' stike only. Don't begin letting women twist you once round their tingers. The habit of yielding to them grows with indulgence; it's instinctive in our virility, from Adam down- ward. Even Samson gave way; and his sto- ry's a parable of the Strong Man for all time. What no force can overcome, no hostilo power destroy, a woman's will cfin got over all too easily. . . . And now, are you going back this afternoon to the Red Cottage?" Owen blushed as he answered, with transpar- ent truthfulness, "Yes; but I'm going first to take tea at the flat with lone and Sacha." Mr. Hayward hold his peace. That ill was too deep for words— a harm no preacher could heal. He could only hoi)e and wish Owen might be delivered from so great a temptation. After ull, individualism must have the fullest scope. We can but guide and direct. "And we Nihil- ists at least," ho thought to himself with a stifled sigh, "have no ground to go upon if wo are not in all things consistent individualists." So at the appointed hour when Madame Mireff was to visit the studio, Mr. Haywartl, already divining the cause of her visit, and too confident '■'%^ .*■■' 1% y .■!» 158 UNDER SFl'^an ORDERi. i^ • !'#-- m & of hid own strength not to disdain weak subter- fuges, made tlie running easy for her by sotting out on iiis table three cr four of nie Morocoo vio'.v.*, with Owen conspicuously posed as an ac- cessory in the foreground. Madame Mireff arrived to the minute, and was shown up at once, via the lift, to the upper cham- ber, very high and glass roofed, where Mr. Hay- ward presided over the mysteries of his art, as Morlimer & Co., of Bond Street. They took a good stare at one another, those two, as a preliminary investigation, each noting many small points in the other's external char- acteristics, before either spoke. Then Madame Mireff St*;:^ sharply, "Are you Mr. Mortimer himself V because I want this photograph to be particularly good — and if it's a success, you can expose copies of it for sale in the shop windows." She was enough of a celbbrity to venture upon that bribe. All London was talking just then of the beautiful cunning Russian, and her mys- terious influence over Lord Caistor's policy. Mr. Hay ward smiled a quiet smile of superior knowledge as hd answered with something of his grand society manner, "I am the nearest approach to Mr. Mortimer that exists. I'm the'head of the firm. But it's a trade name only. There's no Mortimor now in the concern at all. My name ie Lambert Hayward. I'll take your por- trait myself, if you'll bo good enough to sit down there," waving her with one lowly sweep of hie left hand into a vacant chair, "And what's more, it'll be taken just fifty times better than flStw.aiSS&.'rV^^m?' m. n weak subter- her bj-^ 8(3ttiug >f .lie Morocco posed a3 an ac- inute, and was 10 upper chara- here Mr. Hay- 8 of his art, as another, those )n, each noting external cliar- Theu Madame Mr. Mortimer otograph to be iccess, you can liop windows." o venture upon king just then I, and lier mys- )r'8 policy, lilo of superior >mething of his earest approach ni the 'head of only. There's ■n at all. My take your por- igh to sit down ly sweep of hie "And what's aes better than -WvWir'-'^-'f^-Ti'',*,^' UNDER SEALED OKDERS. 1«9 any other photographer in London can take it." Even Madame Mireff was half overawed by the imposing dignity of his presence. Such an operator as this she had never before seen. She seated herself passively in the chair, and let him pose her as he would witb his stately courtesy. Mr. Hay ward arranged her handq and her drap- eries with self-respecting deference as a court painter of noble birth might arrange the attire of an empress who was sitting to him. "Now, a thought more to the left," he said at iast, drawing a screen on the glazed roof over her head so as to let a pensive light fall delicately on that too exuberant bust — for hu had a true artist's eye for effects of light; "look about hei-e; that will do! ha, so— exactly. I'm venturing to pr>se you now, first as Madame Mireff, the diplo- matist, the dame de la Haute politique, the friend and ally of embassadors. You look it to perfection. After that, I'll try to catch you na Madame Mireff, the leader of gay society in Petersburg; and then as Madame Mireff— the dreamer, the enthusiast. " At the last words Madame's expression altered slightly— and, quick as lightning, Mr. Hayward withdrew the cap and then shortly replaced it again. "That wan j»»t what I wanted," he said, a little triumphant: "that intrtguee ex- pression, as of one searching in spirit the expla- nation of an enigma It'iis so you must look, madame, when you play <*ie higJi game of diplo- macy with our guileless Itojflish Mtateemen — keen M 1 ;>; 160 UNDER SEALED ORDERS to detect their weak points, quick to scent the ap- proach of any dangerous topic. That's why I said to you just then the word — enthusiast. It was to make you wonder how a photographer in a Bond Street shop ever came to suspect such a trait in your complex character." Madame looked up this time in naive surprise. The assistant meanwhile had slipped in another plate. "There, so," Mr. Hayvvard cried again, lifting one warning little finger. "Don't alter a muscle, a thought ! Don't stir, please, or change expression I— Ha, capital, capital! That's the bland childlike smile of the perfect hostess. It's as you must have looked in the Governor's palace at Tifiis. Now, again, please. Head thrown back a little more ! Eyes looking up— yes, there. Less of the figure this time ! More of the face and the neck ! Think of Russia, and the cause you have nearest at heart in your country. Think of the Slavonic enthusiasm of your earliest dreams! Think of your Czar, of your^ Empress ! Forget yourself — and me — and this murky Lon- don. Go back to Petersburg in your own soul— BO — to Moscow— to Novgorod!" Madame sighed half involuntarily. What did he know oi the cause she loved really be^? And if he knew what would he think of it, that cold, unsympathetic Euglishma-n. The thought re- flected itself in her face— and like an electric flash, Mr. Hay ward fixed it! He replaced the cap with the sense of a work well performed. "There, we have the three Madame Mireffs," he said, stepping back and releasing her: "politi- scent the ap- That's why I Dithusiust. It photographer > suspect such aive surprise. (6(1 in another 1 cried again, •Don't alter a tise, or change That's the hostess. It's ernor'c palace Head thrown ip — yes, there, tre of the face md the cause mtry. Think your earliest 'our' Empress ! 8 murky Lon- ur own soul — y. What did y be^? And E it, that cold, > thought re- te an electric I replaced the }11 performed, e Mireffs," he her: "politi- UNDER SEAI.BD ORDERS. 161 cian ; grande dame; self-effacing patriot. And all, as you see, in rather less than ten minutes!" Madame let her breath go free after the suspense of the sitting. What a curious man ho was, to be sure, this photographer! Even she felt half if raid rif>w to tackle him about Sacha and Owen. He seen. 'd to see through her so — touched such chords (- > easily ! She talked . for a minute or two witJi him ou neutral subjects; then in a cas- ual way she moved over to the table. As her eye fell on Owen in the Atlas group, she gave as almost impci'ceptiblo start; but Mr. Hay ward noted it — noted, too, that she should have been proof against s'. h a betrayal of her feelings — and remembered it afterward. •^ "Why, that's young Cazalet:" she cried, draw- ing back. "Owen Cazalet! I know him." "Madame knows everybody," Mr. Hay ward answered smiling. "Owen Cazalet's a young friend of mine. He went with me to Morocco." Madame gazed hard at the portrait. It was admirable, characteristic. Slav, Slav to the back' )ne. Then she ventured to play a bold card. "He re' mds me of an old friend of mine," she said ly as she looked at it — "in Petersburg — long a-go. The same eyes. The same big build. The same o}>en expression. He might almost be a son of Count Sergiu8 Selis- toff's." " You' think so?" Those coid eyes were fixed coldly upon her. Madame Mireff flinched "Yes, very like him," she answered, m«»ing. \ ' 4i 162 UNDSB SBALBO ORDERS. There was a long deep pause. Then madame looked up with engaging frankness, and asked as innocently as a child, "Is he Russian by origin?" Mr. Hayward stroked his chin and regarded her in silence. At last he went off at a tangent. "I've traveled a bit in Europe," he said, "and I know my way about the Continent, I've visited Petersburg. I remember the name you mention. There's a General Alexis Seliotoff there — a head of the Third Section. ... I suppose you know him. ... Xo doubt this Count Ser- gius Selistoff was the general's brother. ..." He paused a moment. Then he broke in upon her fiercely with a sudden lowering of his head between his shoulders, and a quick clinching of his fists. "And do you think, Madame Vespi- onne,'''' he cried in a low voice, between his teeth, "if these were really Sergius Selistoff's children, I'd give up the fact to an emissary of the Czar's, and a creature of their uncle's at the Third Section?" Madame MirefiF drew back, wholly abashed. She was a woman, after all, and tears rose quick into her eyes. "You English will believe any evil on earth of a Russian," she murmiu-ed low, half remoraefully. "Then you mean them no harm?" Mr. Hay- ward said, drawing back, and scanning her close from head to foot. "Heaven help me, no!" madame faltered, los- ing her presence of mind for a moment at this anexpected attack. She seejned to hesitate one ts. Then madame iHS, and asked 3 Russian by and regarded t' at a taugeut. he said, "and itinent. I've the name you 1 Seliotaff there . . I suppose lis Count Ser- brother. ..." broke in upon g of his head ik clinching of 'adame Vespi- ^een his teeth, tofif'fl children, of the Czar's, at the Third lolly abashed, jars rose quick ill believe any lurmiired low, n?" Mr. Hay- ining her close le faltered, los- loment at this bo hesitate one ^ trif JDBR SBALID OBDJBRS. 163 instant, and Mr. Hayward noticed her hesitation with a disapproving eye. "It's so hard," she gasped out slowly at last, "to be always misun- derstood. , . . The girl herself — Sacha, they call her — ^misunderstood me the other day. It's pain- ful when one really wishes to do any one good — " She broke oflF with a half scared look. "Oh, we. women are too weak!" she cried in genuine dis- tress. "Too weak for our work. Too weak for such, employments." "I think so," Mr. Hayward assented with a cold half contemptuous sneer. "Olga MireflF, you are tried in the balance and found wanting. This is not what one would expect from Nicolas SergueyeflF's daughter !" ^, Madame started again, still more visibly. She was completely unnerved now. She clasped her hands in her astonishment. "Why, what do you know of my father?" she exclaimed, all aghast at such omiscience. Mr. Hayward oame closer to her, seized her wrist in his hand, and addressed her in Russian. "Olga Mireff," he said, looking hard at her, "you've been a useful friend of the Cause; but you've lost your head to-day. This is dangerous, very. Make no more inquiries at present about these young Cazalets, I tell you. You had no orders to meddle witli the matter from head- quarters ; and this is a headquarters' affair. You've ventured to push yourself in where you were not needed. And you must abide the re- sult. This interview between us shall be re- ported at once — to Ruric Brassoff." .^ jl 1- . TTNDBB SBALBD OBDBtS. At that name Madame Mireff gasped for breath. "Rurio BrassoflP!" nhe repeated, ap- palled. "Then you're one of iis?" in Russian. For it was even so. The dear friend of tUe Czar, the trusted tool of General Selistoff, the unaccredited envoy to the English cabinet — was herself a Nihilist. And it was for the sake of the good she could do the Cause that she con- Beuted to play in outward show the hateful game of the tyrant's diplomatist. But Mr. Hay ward only gazed back at her with unaffected scorn. "And you think me as weak as yourself, then!" he answered. "You think I wear my heart on my sleeve! You think I'll bare my bo«om to the first person that asks me !. Olga Mireff, this is bad. You hold your cards ill, to expose their faces. You must answer for all this — to Rune Brassoff." a. ■ f gasped for repeated, ap- " in Russian. ' friend of tUe Selistoff, the i cabinet — was tr the sake of i that she con- ) hateful game ck at her with ik nie as weak "You think I iTou think I'll that asks me ! >ld your cards ist answer for I ( CHAPTER XVIIi; THE NIHILIST It was with profound trepidation that Madame Mireff opened, next morning, in her luxurious rooms at the Metropole, a letter with, a penny^ stamp on it, bearing the Ealing postmark. For the address on the envelope, she saw at a glance, was m the handwriting of Ruric Brassoff 's secre- tary; and she felt sure the mysterious photog- rapher in Bond Street must already have dilated her indiscretions of yesterday to the head of the organization. And Ruric Brassoff himself, afi every Nihilist knew well, was not a man to be trifled with. m "Olga Mireff," the letter said, shortly, in Rus- sian, "I learn from a faithful friend that your conduct of late has seriously imperiled several schemes for the good of the Cause which I have much at heart; and I feel so convinced of the paramount necessity for explaining to you the evil tendency of your inconsiderate action that I have determined to make an exception to my gen- eral rule, and to grant you at last — what you have so long desired — a personal interview. Call on Saturday next, at four precisely, at the same place where you spoke with a brother of ours to-day, and ask to see Mr. Hayward, who will X ...4* ft' Ha 166 UNDER BBALBD ORDERS. &'■ conduct you to my presmce, Yours, for Russia, Ruric Brassoff." , And this was Tuosday! Oh, cruel, cruel de- lay! Had Ruric Braaaoff, Hhe wondered, ar- ranged it BO'pn purpose? Good subordinate as she was, and duly trained to obedience, Madame Mireff said many hard things in her own heart meanwhile about that inexorable chief, who had given her four Buch days of suspense and misery. She had longed to meet him again for years — and now — why, now, she dreaded it. How difficult it was even to pretend to listen with interest to Lord Caistor's long-winded anecdotes of the turf or Lady Beaumont's vapid society stories, with that appalling interview hanging over her head all the while like the sword of Damocles! How difficult to dine out, and smile, and smirk, and sparkle, and fascinate — with the letter at her heart, and blank terror in her soul. Oh, re- morseless cl^f ! Oh, pitiless organization ! At last, however, the dreadful Saturday came, and with what resolve she could muster up, Madame Mireff drove round in her comfortable brougham to Mortimer & Co. 's, in Bond Street. "To see Mr. Hay ward," she said, shortly, with- out another word to the frizzy-haired yOung wo- man in waiting in the office ; and she was ushered at once into the photographer's presence. "What do you wish?" Mr. Hayward asked, rising, and bowing, polite and inscrutable and courtly as ever. Madame thought of her instructions, and an- swered to the letter: ■• 'i:^'', irs, for Russia, ruel, cruel de- Yondered, ar- lubordinate as ance, Madame her own heart hief, who had 36 and miBery. 'or years — and How difficult ith interest to »teH of the turf stories, with over her head nocles! How id smirk, and letter at her K)ul. Oh, re- tiization ! iturday came, i muster up, ir comfortable . Bond Street, shortly, with- red yOung wo- le was ushered )sence. tyward asked, scrutable and tiouB, and an- t7in>BR SBALBD ORDBRS. 167 "I was told to ask for Mr. Hay ward." The photographer smiled. ^'Quito right," he replied, more approvingly, in an almost gonial tone. "And Mr. Hay ward was to show you to .... another person." He changed his expression suddenly as he added, in Russian, dropping into it all at once: "But the two are one. Olga MireflE, don't you know me? I am Ruric Brassoff I" Madame rose in alarm from the chair where she had seated herself. Her head swam vaguely. Her eyes grew dim. She clapped one hand to her forehead in amaze and bewilderment. "Is this a trap?" she asked, piteously, gazing about her, all unnerved. "Do you want to take me in ? You're not telling me the truth. I knew the man well. You'renof PrinceRuric BrassoflE." "Not the prince. No, that's true. I ceased to be a prince long ago," Mr. Hay ward answered. "But Ruric Brassoff — yes — still the same as of old. Look hard, Olga Mireff, and see if you can't reinstate me!" Madame Mireff gazed intently at him. Her look was riveted on every part in turn. Then she shook her head. "Not a trace," she replied. "Not a feature — the eyes — perhaps the eyes. But, no, impossible, impossible!" Mr. Hayward seized a pen and wrote a word or two in haste on a sheet of white paper. "Whose handwriting's that?" he asked, with an air of demonstration. And madame gasped out, astonished: 168 UNPKR BRALRD OttDBRS. "Rurlc BroMHoff'H, Ruric Brassorf's!" " \n(l thiay" he cried ouce mure, writing an oth»>r liii" unil handing it to htr, Madamo Miroff looked at it anuizod. "Another man's," nho ausw-uod, holding otio hand on hor h<;art; "tho aarno we've always been aocuKtoined to call your secretary's." Mr. Hayward [mt his hand to his mouth, and fidilling Hiightly with his fingors withtl vv some- thing hard from the side of thognnis. ilischeekn fell in a little. He was* less i.iuud-tae(3d than before. "Do you recognize any likeness now?" ho uud-t'au(3d than ness now?" ho i (^o. -but, thoro! it's himdHome Ruric ti^rsbiirg. More hapB — but less I're dark. — He is niuBtacbo and yellow. Yours [ay ward mused, [ireflf exclaimed, impossible. A I build, his gait, mpose uprm me, n never believe I 9T. ight you here?" UNDER SKAI.BD < ikRKi}. 169 Madame puliod It from hor 'losom. Tlie Nihilist took it, Hud shook his head Holemiily. •'Wrong, wrong; (juite wrong," he said, with a despondent gesture, laying it down by tho sig- iiaturo he had just written for comparison. ' ' Who (•;in work with such tools? You carry this about with yon ! Why, you ought to have burned it, of course, the moment you'd read it! Suppose you'd boen run over by accident in tho street, and such a thing had been found upon you?" He cnimpled the note, and held it up for one minute before her eyes; then ho lighted a match .ind reduced it with the other pajwr by its side to ashes. She watched it burning. " WoU, you saw," he went on, with a sigh, "those are the self-same signatures. The letters you've been accustomed to receive — and obey — from Ruric Brassoff, are letters from me! That much you can make out with your own eyes, at any rate. And I'm all of Ruric Brassoff that yet remains, though time and privations no dmibt have mado me thin and lank! There's nv)t enough left of mo now for you to recognize, seemingly." Madame Min^fT stared at him, astonished. "How'vo you done it?" sho asked, wondering. "I suppose I must believe you're Ruric Brassoff, since you say so. But how on earth have yr u managed so complotly to disguise yourself?" The Nihilist ( hief laid his hand on her shoulder with Ilia paternal air. "Listen, Olga Mireff," he said, solemnly. "You remember what I was — how brought up 170 ITNDRR HRALRD ORDERS. — in what luxury. No youuff nmti of fiwhion in Petoixburg wiw IxttUtr (iroHMod tlmn I; uo noUiior liml inoro hiicc»*hsoh; no companiou was more HOU(jfi»t nfU^r. I wiiH rich, I whh grwit, I wnn noblo, I wiiH ix)worful. Woll, ono day, witli ii Hudden awaiconinK, conHciimco Hinoto mo like n Bword. Tlioro wjis u tluuulorHtorm at PotorHburg. I oamy to inyHolf all at otico in tlio midst of tlio tempoBt; I realizod my own notbiugnoHS in this vast t«5eming universe. 1 heard, as if with my own ears, tho i>hiintivti cry of our Russian peasant — you know tluit low cry — all stitiod wailing and lamentation, in which centuries of serfdom aud suffering soom concentrated. His squalid misery touched me— that great pathetic figure, broken down by toil, exhausted by hunger, worn out with exactions. I awoke to a new life; I felt my heart throb for him, this inarticulate, dumb, tortured thing, wiu> cim weep, but cannot speak; this endless crucified sufferer. Then I fell on my face before the Lord, like Paul on the way to Damascus; I took in my heart a solemn oath to consecrate my life, my strength, my thoughts, my energies, to the liberation of that patient, voiceless, manifold people, which drajns its life- blood eternally in order that we, the favored children of privrilege and wealth, may live at our ease in groat towns, eat, drink and wive us, and make merry on its sacrifice." "I know it," madame answered, flushing red in her turn and clasping her hands hard with emotion. "1, too, I have felt it." "Well, and you know the rest in part," the RR8. an of fiiHhinn in an I ; no Holdinr niou wuH more IH grwilt, I WHM »no day, with a tinoto nio like a n at Potoraburg. tlu) midst of tlu) hingnoHS in tliiH I, as if witli my RuHBian peasant Hod wailing nnd of serfdom and HHqualid misery B figure, broken iiiger, worn out new life; I felt rticulato, dumb, at cannot speak ; Then I fell on Paul on the way rt a solemn oath bh, my thoughts, of that patient, li drnjns its life- we, the favored th, may live at ak and wive us, red, flushing red iiands hard with >> st in part," the *m 'fm- ■i-ns-^i. h 'tim- ,^- :eria? You and I shrink not from such sacrifices. We could meet the ax itself with a smile of pure happiness." Madame Mireff clinched her hands still harder. "It is you, "she cried. "Itisyou! Hollowed you from the court. I recognize there the true voice of Ruric Brassoff !" Mr. Hayward's face grew calmer. "In time, then," he went on, relapsing once more into his accustomed self, "I found, as you know, I could serve our great Cause better in the West than in Russia, They stole my fortune, or all that was left of it. I came abroad, and determined no man should ever recognize again the head of the organization. It was painful, but I did it. You say it's impossible to alter one's profile. Not so! Just a little bit of car- tilage removed — see here, " — and he took a sketch from a drawer at his side— -"there's the Ruric Brassoff you knew long ago at Petersburg. But cut away a mere shade there — under the flesh — - ! rd •■■'m 172 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. a great Paris surgeon: yes, it was an internal operation, of courso, and horribly agonizing — but for the Cause! and I am a Brassoff! A razor to my chin, a little plain black dye, a different cut of the hair, a new twist to the mustache does all the rest. And, see! in a minute" — he added a touch or two with his pencil to the early sketch — "you get me as I am now, Lambert Hayward, photographer, and a naturalized subject of her Britannic Majesty!" Madame glanced at him in admiration. "The disguise is so perfect," she said, after a long, deep pause, "that I never for a moment so lauch as suspected it. And, what's more, when you told me at first I couldn't believe it. But your voice — your voice — how have you altered even that so profoundly, so completely?" Ruric Brassoff sighed deep. "Ah, that was hard, indeed," he answered. "There's only one way. Comprassion and al- teration of shape in the larynx, with operations on the vocal chords, and constant use of local muscular astringents. Those, aided by fresh habits of life and English intonation — with my cheek-pieces to boot — have given me a new voice even in speaking Ru&sian. As for my hand- writing, that's nothing. Any one can manage that. I practice both hands constantly, and alternate them as I please. One's ray original style, written with a backward slope and a thick, blunt pen, very Russian and natural ; the other's acquired, written the o^.posite way, and with a fine-pointed nib, forming all my letters on the DERS. was an internal ibly agonizing — L a Brassoff! A lin black dye, a lew twist to the And, see! in a )r two with his ,^ou get me as I ihotographer, and tannic Majesty!" imiration. she said, after a • for a moment so hat's more, when believe it. But have you altered ipletely?" I," he answered, iprassion and al- , with operations t&nt use of local aided by fresh mation — with my m me a new voice \.s for my hand- one can manage constantly, and )ne's my original slope and a thick, itural ; the other's way, and with a my letters on the UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 173 common English model. But, Olga, you're the very first person in the world who has ever been permitted to penetrate ray disguise. And only because I feared you might wreck all by your imprudence, and because I didn't like to risk committing the facts to writing — especially to you, wLo are so liable to interruption by the agents of the tyranny— I decided, after long de- bate, to ask you round here to-day to talk things over with me. I want to show you how danger- ous, how undesirable it is for you to make any further inquiries about Owen and Sacha Caza- let." II'. ■ ,'f. ■ "~-'--'h '■> X •■■i:> ..*:<•" :,r,-- ^-?i?W'^-:-'''h 1 M Mi 174 tTMDBB SEALED ORDERS. •«( CHAPTER XIX. « CONSPIRACY. - ' ■ ' "Of course," madame said, still trembling inwardly, "they're Sergius SelistoflE's children." Mr. Hay ward bent his head. "Sergius Selis- toff's children," he reflected. "Yes, Sergius Selistoff 's children. When the Terror broke out, and Setgius Selistoff was hurried away by ad- ministrative power to the Siberian mines, I man- aged to smuggle off Mme. Selistoff unperceived, with the little ones by her side, as far as Wilna. There, as you must, of course, remember, the poor lady's brain, tortured by the thought of her husband's hideous fate and her anxiety for her children, gave way altogether. She rushed out into the streets, raving mad, from her place of joncealment, crying aloud that the Czar was murdering her Sergius and stealing her babies from her, and for the little ones' sake — thei-e was no help for it — we were obliged to. abandon her. It was some weeks before I could carry the poor orphaned creatures surreptitiously across the Prussian frontier, and then by siieamer from Dantzic to England. Mme. Selistoff, as you know, died meanwhile, still raving mad, in the asylum at Wilna, and I was forced for our poor BR8. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 176 *«'' -'. { still trembling tofiE'schildreu." "Sergius Selis- "Yes, Sergius Ferror broke out, ied away by ad- t,u mines, I man- »flf unperceived, as far as Wilna. , remember, the e thought of her ' anxiety for her She rushed out om her place of ; the Czar was aling her babies sake — thei-e was to. abandon her. d carry the poor Lisly across the Y siieamer from lelistoff, as you ing mad, in the reed for our poor martyr's sake, to undertake the charge of Bacha and the boy Sergius." "Whom you call Owen?" madame put la interrogatively. "Wl^om we now call Owen," Mr. Hay ward assented, with a fatherly smile. "You see, Olga, the girl was four years old, and wouldn't hear of being called by any name but Sacha, which was the pet name she'd always borne in her father's house, at Petersburg, so I had to leave her alone, but the boy was a baby, and as I wished to bring him up a thoroughgoing En- glishman, I comnxitted him at once to Miss Cazalet's care under the name of Owen. It was years before he knew he was Russian by origin." "You were still Ruric Brassoff then?" Ma- dame asked. "Not exactly. I was passing just that mo- ment through an intermediate state, reversing the usual process, from butterfly to caterpillar. I took them personally to Miss Cazalet's, repre- senting myself as a Polish refugee, but with he face and complexion of the Ruric Brassoff that used to be. I told the poor lady, who's a feeble- minded English old maid — you know the type — weak tea, respectability, district visiting, the Central African Missions — they were her half- sister's children— Madame SelistofiE had given me the address and the family history before I started, and Sacha was quite old enough to un- derstand and remember most things. But I ex- plained to the good aunt it would be dangerous to let it get noised abroad they were Russians '■4 ,->"' 176 UNDER SEALBD ORDERS. and Selistoffs, the Czar might claim them as hiB subjects and send them too to Siberia. I fright- ened her so much, indeed, she consented at last to acquiesce in the story that their father 'had died in Canada, and to suppress their real name — which was much for an Englishwoman. They've been brought up ever since in her house as Cazalets, and as British subjects; though Alexandra never forgot she was a Sells- toff bom, nor the horror and terror of those days at Wilna." "And the change of face?" madame inquired. "The change of face came afterward. For three years I never saw Miss Cazalet again, though I wrote to her occasionally and sent her money for the children — hov.' hard earned, God only knows — saved often by starving myself from the Ruric Brassoff you knew to the spare and weatherworn man you see before you now. Meanwhile, I was undergoing my new birth — passing through my chrysalis stage in holes and corners — resting quiescent as Ruric Brassoff, to emerge from the shell as Lambert Hayvvard, an Englishman. Bergmann, of Berlin, transformed my voice for me — most difficult operation on the vocal chords. Charcot managed my features, not knowing whom I might be, or why I wanted them altered. I learned English, too, in an English family in Yorkshire, and having our Russian taste for languages, like yourself, por- fected myself rapidly. When the metamorphosis was complete, I took to photography. I'd been an amateur in Petersburg, you remember, and I >BRS. laim them as his iberia. I fright- ionsentod at lant their father 'had 3 their real name Englishwoman. siT since in her British subjects; she was a Selis- ror of those days ladame inquired, afterward. For I Cazalet again, ally and sent her lard earned, God starving myself lew to the spare before you now. my new birth — tage in holes and iuric Brassofl, to )rt Hay ward, an rlin, transformed operation on the ed my features, or why I wanted iish, too, in an and having our ke yourself, por- le metamorphosis raphy. I'd been remembOT, and I I UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 177 made it pay in London. Having lost my all, for the sake of the Cause, I was bound to make money." "And does the aunt—the old maid — know all this?" madame asked with deep interest. "Not a soul on earth but yourself knows a word of it. You are the first, most likely you will be the last, who has ever been so honored. Not even Sacha suspects it, my disguise was so perfect. I have such little doubt of its absolute offectivenevss that I'd go to Petersburg itself if necessary, as an English tourist. Well, at the end of three years I saw Miss Cazalet agaiu, this time as an Englishman who had known Sergius SelistoflF and his wife at Vienna. I drove a hard-and-fast bargain with her, which has been loyally kept on both sides ever since. I engaged to keep Owen, and pay for his education, and start him iu life as my own son, if she'd let me have him with me for two months in each year to do as I liked with. Poor lady, she jumped at it — though she'd have cut her throat sooner if she'd known what I really wanted him for— she, with her narrow Evangelical views and her Cen- tral African Missions; absorbed, not so much in the bread of life as in the necessity of getting it from this, that, or the other particular baker. But she took me for an Englishman, and she takes me for one still, though she has doubts in her own mind now as to the rightfulness of the bargain, and as to the nature of my journey ings up and down over Europe." . " Well, and what are you going to do with the t 4 ^'J issmm wmBmumm iMHMi mi U}^' 178 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. young man?" Madame Mireflf asked again. "He looks like fine fiber — fit for any service humanity may choose to require of him." "He is," Ruric Brassoff answered, with affec- tionate pride. "A magnificent body, a pure, enthusiastic, unselfish soul. Our best Russian characteristics have come out in him full toned, only heightened and improved by free English training. He's a noble instrument for a noble end. Frankly, Olga, I'm proud of him." "And he belongs to the Cause?" "Implicitly. He has sucked it in at the breast with his mother's milk, almost. From his earli- est boyhood, as soon as he was able to under- stand anything, I began preparing the way beforehand, plowing and harrowing the soil, sowing the good seed tentatively, in proportion as his years would permit him to receive it. And it fell on good ground; being Sergius SpHh- toflf's son, he was naturally receptive. He loves Russia with a love passing the love of those who have lived in it and known it. The Cause of Free Slavonia is to him an ideal, an aspiration, a religion. He is one of us to the core. He has no doubtH, no hesitation." "I see," madame answered. "That is fine. That is splendid. And you're going to put him. Lady Beaumont said, I think, into the Englisfi diplomatic service." "Yes. He'll be useful to us there as he would be nowhere else. It's a long task, to be free. We taunt build for the future. I've been build- ing thwi one step patiently for twenty years and )ERS. ked again. "He ervice humanity ered, with affec- t body, a pure, ur best Russian him full toued, by free English ment for a noble [of him." I?" it in at the breast From his earli- i able to under- aring the way owing the soil, ►ly, in proportion m to receive it. rig Sergius Selis- ptive. He loves ovo of those who t. The Cause of ,1, an aspiration, he core. He has "That is fine, foing to put him, into the English there as he would task, to be free. I've been build - twenty years and " UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 179 more. . . Attaches and embassadors have access to court dignitaries which no one else can se- cure— A day may come when Owen Cazalet can strike a great blow for Russia." He paused, and drummed hard with one finger on tlie table. Then he added once more in a quaintly pensive tone: "I read in an anthropulogical book this morning that on Savage Island, in the South Pacific, a line of kings once roigued over a dusky people. But as these kings partook of a divine nature, and were supposed to make the rain fall and the crops grow apace, their subjects got an- gry with them when the food supplies fell short, and killed them off rapidly, one after another, in a spell of bad seasons, till at last, so many kings were clubbed to death in succession that nobody cared to accept the office. The title went beg- ging for want of aspirants. . . And I laid down the book, and thought of Russia." Madame Mireff smiled grimly. "But even Owen doesn't know who ycu are then?" she asked in an afterthought. "No, even Owen doesn't know. As for Sacha, though she suspects me, no doubt, of being a Russian, perhaps even a Nihilist, she knows nothing at all — and with the Slav reticence, abstains from asking me. She's a fine creature, Sacha. I believe if she knew, she'd sympathize all round, for she remembers her mother's death and her father's long slavery. But she's the genuine Slavonic type in that also : she sees it't no business of hers, and she makes no inquiries. There's something about Sacha's subdued stem mwM 180 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. fastness of purpose I admire immensely. Old and worn as I am, if ever I married now, I sometimes think to myself I'd marry Sacha Oaiealut." lie paused a moment and sighed. No, no ; he himself was above those winiknesHes ho had pointed out to Owen as the grnat Btuinbling blocks in a patriot's path. True Russian ascotin at heart, he had brought his body under and his soul as well. No share for him there I He could smile at the bare thought of it. "And now you see, Olga Mireff, " he went on, more grave than ever, "how unwisely you were acting, and how you were thwarting my plans — the pbms of the Cause — by suggesting in public those children might be Russians. My one great object in Owen's education has been to make him an Englishman all over, in externals at least — to make him strong, and good at games, and personally popular with Englishmen. I wanted nobody even to suspect any Russian con- nection. I wanted this bolt to fall upon them from the blue. Attempt on the life of the great head of the criminals, the aggressor an English- man — a servant of the British crown — an attache or embassador at Constantinople, say, or at Ath- ens. Conceive what a sensation! And you nearly spoiled all — you, a woman, and unbid — by .suggesting in the room where Lord Caistor was sitting, that my fine English young man, my typical Briton, may be after all a son of SergiusSelistoff's!" Madame covered her face with her hands at ' o msely. (^Id ried now, I larry Sacha No, no; he ses ho had I, BtmnbliriK ssian aseotin idor and his I He couhl he went on, ily you were my plans — ig in public ily one great en to make externals at 1 at games, [lishmen. I Russian con- i upon them of the great an English- — an attache -, or at Ath- And you i,nd unhid — jord Caistor roung man, ill a son of ler hands at ' ( I o UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 181 the magnitude of her own error. "Oh, this is too terrible of me!" nhe cried, all penitence. "What folly! What indiscretion ! But I did it only because I wanted ,to know the facts — to save them from the clutches of Alexis Solistoff in Petersburg." "He asked you to hunt them up?" Mr. Hay- ward asked calmly. "Yes. He iisked me to hunt them up. And how could I know you were interested in keep- ing it secret'/ I wanted to war'n the dear souls jigainst that iiifm that implacable fjiireaucrat, (liut vile tool, their ttwla. if over he diseoyoiTfd them, he'd be capable, 1 IteAiove, of inviting them to Petersburg, under friendly promises, and then killing them with his own baud, 'r flinging them secretly into his cells, to avenge and wipe out the family disgrace, as he considers it. And I wanted to save them ! . . . But all I've done, it seems, is to surprise the secret you desired to keep. I've forced your hand, I know well. , . . Rurie Brassoff, there's but one way I can atone for my wrongdoing." She looked up at him with fierce pride. Mr. Hayward eyed her pityingly. "Olga," he said, after a long pause, "you're quite right. There's but one way out of it. And when I invited you to come here to-day, I meant to ask you to follow that way to the bitter end. If I asked you, I know your devotion well enough to feel sure you'd obey. The woman who has discovered Ruric Brassoflf's identity against his will — the woman who alone of living creatures could bring -^>Wt.TS i'^3©ffi;'» »a(A- "• m 182 UNPBK SEALED ORDERS. m-^ a spy to this spot, and point hor finj^er at me and Bay, 'This \h ho; nrrewt hini'— that woman ought to gn homo without one inomont'H hoHitutiou and cut her own throat or bh)W her own hraiim out. The CauBo demandH it, I know, and the martyr would bo forthc'ojnintf." Madame rose and cijufrontod liim. Hor eyo flaHhed firo. "Ruric BrasHoff," she oxdaimed haut,i MHM M I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) I 1.0 % « IIIM LI 1.25 m 2.2 m I'O 20 IIIIIJA 1.4 11.6 % -^^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 1^ .<■'#/ ^ ^.' /M-j <■' C^ .:v^^^,:;^ 184 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. t V tr CHAPTER XX. SORE TEMPTED. It was auturau ut Moor Hill, and the beeches on tlie nhaik downs had put on their imperial robes of crimson aL..wld and Tyritm purple. How could Sacha resist the teiifpiMon of a visit to Aunt Julia's at such an enticing timeV Im possible; she felt she must run down to see them. There was a holiday on the Stock Exchange, too, and Trevor (rardtner, most timid of men, still all tentative politenc's&. had asked leave to accom- pany her. "That's >4ie worst of allowing these people a foothold in one's house as hewers of wood and drawers of water," Sacha grumbled half petulantlv to If ne. "'They presume upon their position, and w ant at last to dine at the same table, ins'ioad of sticking as they ought to their place in the kitchen. We'd have done bet- ter lo go in, I see, for being thoroughly inde- pendent from the very first outset. The mistake was made when we })ermitted such an insinuat- ing creature as a man to come interfering at all with our cozy little phalanstery.'' "They ore insinuating — sometimes," lone an- swered, witli a mischievous laugh ''And some- times they're not — not half ins" .uating enough — especially when you'd like them to be. The} JL a*^..':^ ho beeches r imj)orial tin purple. 1 of a visit time? ifi« I to see thorn, ^change, too, tneu, still all ,0 to accom- lowing these iri howers of a grumbled ■esume upon ) dine at the hey ought to ive (lone bot- ;)ughly inde- rhe mistake an insinuat- oring at all 3S, lone au- Aud some- iting enough to be. The} t :JL UNDER SEALED ORDERS. want you to lift them over all the hard stiles, in- stead of lending j'ou a helping hand to got over yourself, out of consideration for your skirts, and your native modesty a^ a woman. I've met some of them that way." Perhaps -she was thinking of Owen. "But, my dear, you may grumble aboui, them as much as ever you like — you won't take me in." And she shook a wise little lier.d. "We wouldn't get on half as well without him. But as it wouldn't be proper, of course, for you anil Mr. Gardener to go down together alone — why, sooner than shock Mrs. Orundy or your aunt, I don't mind obliging you myself, and making the third who's pro- verbially no company. I'd like so much to see" — she didn't say, Owen, but — "your old studio at thdRof' Cottage." It is thus that eveji the frankest of us use language, as Talleyrand said, to conceal our thoughts. For lone, after all, was as frank aa it is given her half of the human .species ever to show itself opejily. When iVunt Julia heard she was coming — "that dreadful toozly-haired creature, you know, that you met in Morocco, Owen, and whose por- trait in men's clothes, and a Mussulman's at that (or should one say a Mussulwoman's?), was put in the Graphic'^ — her horror and alarm were simply unbounded. "What Sacha can mean by bringing the girl down here and flinging her at your head, I'm sure I can't conceive," Aunt Julia sighed dismally. *'But there, what the young women of this age are coming to, Heaven 4 V * '_3^'^ f ■fc > I-' . f- 186 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. only knows, with their Hats and their latchkeys anil their riding like gontlemeu. It's enough to make their gram'motliers turn in their graves, Yoii won't caro for hiT, Owen, that's one com- fort, for I know you always say you like women to be womanly, arl this creature's exactly the same as a man, and not a good mtin at that, either. I ro.id some of her article about Morocco in the BiiuouUihj Rerictv—l conhhVt read it all— and it showed she was utterly devoid of sound Christian principles. She goes into one of the dark places of the earth without making the faintest attempt to spread the light there. She jokes about the most serious subjects iu a really painful way; talks of Mohammeucins without one word as to their errors or their im- mortal souls, and lived at one place in an old Moor's house who had three wives in his harem, which is certainly not respectable. When / was a girl, a woman who did such things as that would have been ashamed to speak out about them; but nowadays, they write a full account of their vagaries in a magazine as if masquerad- ing in men's clothes was something to be proud of." Owen said nothing. Rut the fact that Aunt Julia thought so ill of Tone rather operated in his mind as an extra attraction to the pretty Greek girl than otherwise. It was an unfortu- nate knack of Aunt Julia's, indeed, not unknown among old maids, to rouse opposition at once in young people's souls by the mere manner of her pronoimcement. And if there was anything t f ". ■^^'^■;fil■9J} ' l ' ^ ' JJ^ii,*^ii'!!l^ ' " '' T '' S ' ^?" UNDER HEALED ORDERU. 187 r latchkeys s enough to leir graves, 's one coni- like woniou exactly the I an at that, jut Morocco In't read it r devoid of los into one out making light there, ubjects in a hamaieucins or their im- ;e in an old I his harom, Wlien / was ngs as that k out about full account mascjuerad- to be proud t that Aunt operated in ) the pretty an unfortu- lot unknown »u at onco in anner of her IS anything t Aunt Julia wanted Owen to do, she couldn't have devised a better means of insuring her end than to preach at him, in season and out of sea- son, that ho oughtn't to do it. But wh(m lone really camo, she burst upon them, as usual, like u ray oi' sunlight. Even the prop of the Universities Mission hereelf, pre- pared for a nuwt masculine and forbidding per- son, was taken aback at the first blush by lone's joyous and irrepressibly girlish personality, "So this is Aunt Julia!" the dreaded stranger cried, taking both Miss Cazalet's hands warmly in hers, as the mistress of the house, with sol- emn dignity, in all the glory of her black silk and her creamy luce head-dress stood awesome by the jasmine-covered p:irch to receive them, "I've heard such a lot about Aunt Julia from Owen and Sacha already that I almost seem to know you by anticipation, and as for me, I'm afraid you've se one likes oneself, don't you think.'' Sd much better than all those smart men one meets up in I.iondon." "You go out a great deal?" Owen asked, trembling. It meant so much to him. "Well, you see, just this season, I was a sjrt of a lion. Next year it'll have worn off, and everybody'll have forgotten me. But this year, I've been made much of, and asked out for a i *i- ''^^T'- '.;( ' #"-" I w J ' , ' -"" mmmmm^mmmmmmi/imm UNDER SKALED ORDERS. 191 n (listiinced among the •oki^ forth at fuzing hard I frosh faoe. onco again, e frankness ]jirl. lono's ihill, rtuKhod d looked at en thousand y^ou like to st aH frank- k unreserve "Why, of ay. "Who ringy on the tier footfall s. "That's nil( 'One ikes oneself, i;ui all those >vveu asked, n. I was a S3rt orn off, and ut this year, >d out for a ^M#»^W«''j^' i 9 I I ^ i4i- shovv — just to swell Mrs. Brown's or Lady Vero- de-Vere's triumph." "And the men talk a great deal to you?'' "Yes. You know the way they talk. Men who've seen everything, know ever3'hody, go everywhere. Men who say clever things— witli a sting in tlie tail. Men who don't seem to be- lieve in the existence of truth or goodness any- where. Thoy ct)me up to nie, all outward defer- ence, but with a lurking suspicion in their eyes tiiat seems to say, 'Now, what game are yon playing? How do you want ti tackle mo?' And then their talk!" Siie mimicked them mischievously. " 'Going to any of these dances to-night?' 'Yes, going to two or three of them.' 'Know the Burne-Jonses?' 'No. Why? Are tliey giving a party:' I heard a man say that one night, in town, I assure you. Oh, isn't it just sickening? I'm glad the autumn's come and the season's all over. I'm glad to get down here, if it's ondy for a day— one love!}' day— to nature and reality." "It was good of you to come," Owen mur- mured, abashed and afraid. "I was so avvfullj' glad when I heard you were coming." lone turned to him with a flash of light in her happy eyes, The chestnut hair blew free round her face in the autumn breeze. Her glance was very tender. "Oh, Owen, then you wanted me?" she said. She was too much in love with him herself not to throw herself so upon him. Owen drew back and hesitated. He knew only too well he was on dangerous ground. If {. Ir^i* j 'l-«*^v W ;- ":' . ■-•v •VFe-rtv-' f. ;. - m„ ; ^j^ .; i^; log UNPKR HEALKD OlinKRS. Mr. Hayward wore hut tlioro to soo I'.ow Horely ho wan tempted! But Mr. Hnywurd was far away, and lono was noar— very iioar iudt'od. Her hmatli l>l<'\v warm on liiw chook. llor oyes hold him and fascinated him, '•Yo8, I wantiHl you, lono," ho waid nlowly. But ho Haid it with a roservatioii. Ho know how vory wi-ouk it was. This siron was charm- ing him away from the plain i)ath of duty. As for loiio, sho drow l)ack liko ono wtun^'. Tho rosorvation in his voic-c rousod tho woman within hor. Sho folt horsolf slif^'htod. She tolt sho had flung horsdf upon him — and he had ro- jectod the hooii. No woman on earth can stand that. Sho drew away froni him proudly. "Lot's sit down and wait for Sacha," bIio said, coldly, in an altered tone. "They'll ho coming up soon. I oughtn't to have got so far in front of her." It was Owen's turn now to foci a pang of ro- morso, "Oh, no, don't lot's sit down," ho cried; "don't deprive mo of this pleasure. lone, I've longed so to get a few wo.''ds with you alone, ever since you arrived at Moor Hill this morn- ing. You can't think what a joy it is to mo just to walk hy your side, just to hear your sweet voice. You're s) difToront from other girls. I'm so happy when I'm with you." " Happy y" lone lepeated, half angrily. "Oh, you know I am. You can see it. Why, I thrill all over.'' His knees trembled as ho said it But be said it all the same. He looked at hor shyly, as ho •i- .i » t 1 f ^ ,-'> «■ .■»'^'k-^ih%>>'S?%V4 -^ l J 4 HMMII«NMPWiPiP UNDKIl HKALEI) OKDKIIS. \n I'.ow Horely il WHS fur 111" iiulood. llor oyew lid Hlowly. llo know was chiirm- duty. oiu' Htiintr. tho woman 1. Shu ii'W 1 he hud ro- ll can stand idly. I," she said, 1 bo oominiC far in front pang of re- down," he snre. lone, 1 you alone, this inorii- is to nio just your sweet other girls. rily. be it. Why, Biit he said shyly, as ho t I spoko, hlnshing red with first love. He'd have given worlds to kiss her. ,\ud he would havo done it to:i — if it hadn't heen for the ( 'ause and Mr. llayward. "Then why did you say in that tuin' — 'Ye-es; um; I — ah — wanti'il you, lone'V" "Because," Owen cried, driven to hay, and with his heart thr.ihhing wildly, "I longt^d to say, 'Yes, nmdly — intensely — unspeakal)!}-.' But I know it's (juite wrong. 1 oughtn't to spoak so to you." "Why not?" lone uakod, fronting him, with inoxorahle cahnness. Owen looked at hor hai-der still. Oh, how beautiful she was, how strong, how free, how irresistible. Talk abotit tho Cause, indeed";' Wliat wus tho C^iuso to him to-day? lias a Cause such bright eyes as that, such red lijjs, such blushing chocks, such a heaving bosom? Has a Cause such soft hanels? "Because," hi? faltiTod feebly once more, "how can I fall in love now — at barely twenty-one — and with uuth- ing to live upon'/" "But you hare fallen in love," lone answered, demonstratively. She knew it lietter than ho did. She savv it quite clearly in his face by this time; and being herself she said ho. That straight statement of a plain fact heljir-d Owen out immensely. "Yes, I /.«/>' fallen in love," he answered panting, and with his heart in his mouth. "Ca, lone, so very much I I love you with all my soul. I shall always love you — you ever and you only." m .'/iTjI'.. _S^^-^M^i^&*^^ ^^r.: TT -'^j- »^ i\, ^^_ < x t ^'^m II ' ^ 1 1 iiV y i .l i '^V^^ ^ ^^M^^f ' ■ - " \ iiUHWorod, lluHhiii|jr bright red once luoii!, iiiul with tW lovc-lij^ht in lier oyo8. "And — I lovo you tho Hiinics ( >vv('ii. 1 loved you altnont from that very llrHt iii^lit ut Ain-Kssii. . . . And oh, if wo both fool it why rihouhlu't wo miy hoV" Thoy had waiidcriHl away from tho path as they Hpoko, Ix'hiud (^rcat clumpH of hoUy-buHhes. Owen hiokcd at ht>r once mote — raiwd hi.H hand — caught ht>rrt iuHtinctivoly. "Hccausc it would be wroni^ of nicl" lio nnirmurod all trcinuloun, clasping her HngcPH in hisown. "1 mustn't even kisrfyon." ]}ut he bent forward us ho Hpoko, "I don't belong to myself," ho cried, "I .im bought with a price. I should bo doing injustice to others if T were to give way to my lovo for you." "What's her nanieV" lone askod, toasingly, withdrawing her hand with a cocpiettish little air from her lover. For she knew very wcOl in her own heart there waw no she in the matter. "Oh, loue," Owen cried, all reproach. "TIow can you say such a thing, in jest even. You kiioii^ very well there's n()])ody else on earth I care a pin for but you. And for yon — I would die for you !" "Yes, T know," lone answered, turning sud- denly round and facing him. Her voice, thougli still tremulous, rang quick, clear, and decisive. "I know what it all means. I guessed it long ago. You don't think you must fall in love with me, because you're otherwise engaged. I I t I <) UNDER SKALRD ORDRRS. 195 ij;lit ill her * f , Owvn. 1 Ht iii^lit ill otli fool it < . th(( piitli us 1 olly-lmshos. 1 * 0(1 lii.s liiuid 1 iHO it would 1 tr(>tnuloiiH, mustn't cvon 18 ho Hi)ok<'. io.l, "I am ii|^ injustice > my lovo for , toasinfifly, lettish littlo V vory well slic in tho wh. "TIow even. You 1 on oartli I on — I would ! urning snd- 1 oico, thougli nd docisivo. 3S8ed it long fall in lovo 86 engaged. - \ou'vo prmiMod tliiil horrid Nihilist man— to blow up the C!zar for him." Sho had played a holil card— played it Wfdl and ellV'ctively. Sho meant to reliaso Owen from thiw hatoful thraldom, us ^he felt it to ho, and HJio W(>nt tho right way to work to effect iier piu-pose. Ort'cMi gazed at her ast,)n^!wlied. How had she divined liis Heiret':' Thru, in amemetit, it camo over him liko u wave that if nhe know all already, th(«ro whs und could ho now no bar- rier betwe.-n them. Tho holly buHhes, tluink H;>a\en, rose tall and thick, and scrouned thom frcm observation. Ho seized her hand. Ho proHHod it hard. He touched her rich red lips. "Oh, my darling," he cric'd in a transport of ■,vil('. joy, of sudden relief from terrible tension, "I lovo you— I lovo you— I may always lovo you." Ho clusped her in his arms. Sho nestled there gladly. '^mtm j_''..* ■C'C^/-'^' :s* ' y'^'j'i" "» - "^.r-. 19(5 UNDKR 8EALKD ORDERS. CHAPTER XXI. THE QUALITY OF WOMAN. It was quite a long time before Sacha and Trevor Gardener caught them up. — And the rea- son was, in part, because Sacha and Trevor Gar- dener were eciiiidly well employed on their own account independently. He was a shy man, Trevor Gardener, and they'd -limbed a long v^ay n\) the steep slope of the hill before he turned round to his companion with a sudden burst and blurted out, in his mod- estly jerky way : "Look here, Sacha, it was awfully good of you to suggest we should come out like this this afternoon. I was .so angi'y when loue first proposed to run down witli us. I wanted ... a teie-a-tete v--ith you, and her coming spoiled it." "I knew you did, Trevor," Sacha answered, calmly: it had been "Trevor" and "Sacha"-from the very first with them in that most modern household, where; conventions were not. ' ' I knew you did, and that's why I proposed coming out here." "Oh, how kind of you!" Trevor Gardener cried, looking admiration unspoken from those honest blue eyes. "So like you, too, Sacha!" "I thought it'd be best to get it over, once for m: TT" . i i M VM iBiii niwurj i nwnji i i . ji i M l w pppHi UNDER SEALED ORDERS. m Sacha and Vnd the rea- Trevor Gar- n their own rdener, and teep slope of 3 companion in his niod- :lly good of lit like this m lone first nted ... a ; spoiled it." A arsv\'ored, Sacha"' from iiost modern )t. "I knew coming out or Gardener I from those , Sacha!" ver, once for f V all," Sacha answered, unmoved to the outer eye. But she gathered up her skirt and pinned it as she spoke with hands tliat tromhled juet a wee bit more than one would have thought quite likely with such a girl as Sacha. Trevor Gardener gazed at her, astonished, and not a little troubled in mind. "To get it over!" he echoed, ill at ease. "Oh, Sachii, what do you moau? To get it over?" " VVell, I thought you had something to say to me," Sacha continued, very outwardly calm, but with three nervous fingers toying quick on the ivory Japanese button that fastened her watch- chain. "I gathered it from your manner. And I thought— the sooner said, the sooner mended." Trevor Gardener's face fell. "Then you knevv . . . what I was going to say to you?" he murmured, much crestfallen. "We women have our intuitions," Sacha re- plied, oracularly, still playing with the button. "And your answer would have been — ?" Sacha lauglicd an amused little laugh. "How on earth can I say, Trevor," she ex- claimed, more frankly and less timidly, "when I haven't heard your (juestion?" Trevor Gardener glanced askance at her, the shy glance of the bashful young man. "That's true," he mused, hesitating. "But still, Sacha — your intuitions, you know!— you might gupss the question." Sacha smiled still more broadly. "What a funny man you are !" she cried, pull- ing a flower-head as she passed. "Yci want -"^y .^^k-f^M^iiM^,. 4l|i*M»^ EM v-.^ ' 198 rUDER SEALBD ORDERS. me to play both hani^s nt once, your own and mine. You want me to give both (luestion and answer." Trevor admitted in his own mind she was per- ft'ctly right. And yet, somehow, he conhln't muster up oourasre to frame in words what he wanted. "Well, you meant to have this tete-a-tete with me, anyhow?" he suggested after a short pause. "Oh, yes," Saoha answered. "I told you so before. I wanted to get it over." "It?" "Yes, it." "But you like me, don't you?" the young man burst out pleadingly. Sacha'ri Lace flushed rosy red. "I like you very much, indeed," she replied. "When firsl you came and offered to do our work for us I was only interested in you—jiist inter- ested in you— nothing more, because I saw you sympathized with us and understood our motives. But the mere I've seen of you, the better I've liked you. I like your simplicity oi lioart, your straightforwardness of action, your singleness of aim, your honest earnestness. I see you're a real live man, with a soul of your own, among all these tailor-made Frankenstein dummies. And I'm very, very fond of you.— There, now! will that do for you?" She turned round ujKjn him almost fiercely, so that the young man (luailed. But he mustered up courage, all the same, to look her full in the face and add : f I ■4.A.€' 5:Li--X-^^.' ^li f !^"!!' ir own and lestiou and he was i)er- tie coiddn't da what he -a-tete with ^hort pause, told you so young man she replied, do our work -jnst inter- e I saw you )ar motives, better I've lieart, your iuL'fleness of vou'reareal I, among all mies. And will now t fiercely, so lie mustered >r full in the UNDER SItALED ORDERS. 199 "And you'll say yes to my question then? You won't refuse moV" "What is it?" Saeha replied, running her hand through the tall grass nervously as she spoke. "See here, Treviir. You compel me to be plain." Her heart was beating violently. "There are two questions either of which you may mean to ask, though you might have thought of tluMTi yourself as different. One is 'Do you love mo?' The other, 'Will you marry me?' There, now," her face was crimson, but ^he went on with an effort, "you've forced me to ask them myself, after all. It isn't woman's sphere — but you've driven me into it. Well, which of the two do you want me t;> answer?" Trevor Gardener seized her hand and held it, unresisted, one second in his own. A wave of delight passed over him from head to foot, "WoU, the first one first," he said, stammer- ing. "Oh, Sacha, do you love me?" Sacha tore the tiny spikelets from the grasa- hea 1 one by one with trembling fingers as she answered, in a very firm voice, soft and ii^iv; "Yes, Trevor." The young man's heart gave a bound. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it fervently. "That's everything!" he cried, overjoyed, all his timid: ty deserting him now; for when a woman once admits she loves you, what have you further to fear? "And, Sacha, will you marry me?" "No, Trevor," Sacha, said, just as firmly, though still lower, and with a faint undercur* ;-^-t ■m ►---r- ■ *:v*i-- >?*r JJOO tTNDBR HEALED ORDKRS. If': '«*^ k^. k I: 1^ rent of tromnknisnesH in her voice. "I love to be with you hero, but I will never mfirry you." She na.i(l it ho dofiuitely that the j'oung mau stfirfceil back in luiaft'ected Burprise. He saw rhc meant it. "Not marry me!" he cried, taken aback, "When j'ou love me, too! Oh, Sacha, what on earth do you mean by it?" Saoha put her hand on her heart, as if to still its throbbing. But her answer was one that fairly took his breath away none the less by \t» utter unexpectedness. "You're rich," she said, slowly, "quite rich, Trevor, aren't you?" "Oh, not so rich as all that comes to," the stockbroker replied, apologetically, as wIid should say, AVell, it's not my own fatdt if I aui; "but still — comfortably off. I could afford to keep you in the position you're accustomed to." "How much do you make a year?" Sacha asked, still holding that throbbing heart and looking into his face appealingly. "Well, it varies," the young man answered; "sometimes more, sometimes less; but alway.s enoiigh to live upon." "A thousand a year, perhaps?" Saeha sug- gested, naming a sum that to her mind seemed princely magnificence. "Oh, yes, a thousand a year, certainly," Trevor answered, smiling. "Two thousand?" Sacha put in with a gasp, her heart beginning to sink. I f i t jSSJJiaj'/iM^;; \ "I lovo ever marry 3'oung mail He saw rhc ken aback, acha, what as if to still IS one that e less by its 'quite rich, aes to," the wfiD should I aui; "but ord to keep d to." =ir?" Sacha ■ heart and 1 aiisworod; but always Saoha sug- riind seemed ily,"Tre\'()T svith a gasp. I f MMlHaaQMIMfn UNDER SEALED 0.'.„ kRS. 201 "Oh, yes, two thousand," the young man re- sponded, as carelessly as if it wore a mere trifle. What on eiirth could she bo driving at? "Three thousand?" Sacha faltered. "Well, perhaps three thousand," Trevor ad- mitted, with candor. "Though that depends upon the year. Stillj one time with another, 1 should say — well — j'es — about three thousand." Sacha drew. ;i deep breath. A pained look crossed her face. "Oh, then, it's quite impossible," she cried. "Quite, quite impossible." "Why so, darl"H??" Trevor ventured to ask. "Since you say you love me?" Sacha was trembling all over. Her lips looked deadly pale, But she forced herself to speak out, with all the restrained strength of her strong Rus- sian nature. "Because, if you're as rich as all that," she said, slowly, "I must give up my independence, I must give up my individuality, I must give up my creed in life — which is the equal freedom of women with men — and I must be merely your wife, like girls who sell themselves to rich fools for a livelihood. What I cculd earn b)' my art would be a mere drop in the bucket. If ever I married, I wanted to marry a man whose earnings were only about the same as my own, and toward whom I could feel like an equal, a partner, a fellow bread-winner." She said it very earnestly. It was her faith, . her religion. But something in her tone made Trevor Gardener pause. ^j ,- ■^.^ 202 UNDER HEALED ORDERS. "Is that all?" lie said at last, oftur a lonj,', (loop silence, during which each could almost hear the other's heart boat. And Sacha, in hor perfect truthfvdness, was constraiu3d to answer: "No, not quite all, Trevor," "And what'.-i tlio rest?" he asked, eagerly, seizing her hand again as he looked. "You must tell me now, darling." Sacha turned a way her flushed f a«e. She dared not meet his honest eyes. "Oh, don't ask me that, please!" she cried. "Don't try to force it out of me! I shall have a hard struggle to keep it in, I know. But I don't want to tell you." A sudden thought flashed all at ouce across Trevor Gardener's mind. Many things grew clear to him in one of those rapid intuitions that sometimes break in upon us at great critical momonts. "I know it! I know it!" he criod, eagerly. "You need say no more. It's on account of Owen!" "What do you jnean?" Sacha cried, facing him in her terror, and thoroughly frightened now. "I never /o/d you so." "No," the young man answered. "But I see it for myself. You don't want to do anything while Owen's future remains so uncertain." Sacha gazed at him all appalled. What had he found out about Owen? She put forth her hand and clutched his arm in her nervous ex- citement. t ..j^:— .w..-Affe.u^ Aj?^ ■tur a long, nliT filmoHt Illness, was (1, eagerly, "You must She diiretl she cried. [ shall have ow. But I oiiee across lings grew I intuitions rent critical >d, eagerly, account of wpw UNDER SEALliD OKOERR. 303 "Owen's future!" she cried, deadly pale. "Why, who told you timt, 1 wonder?" Trevor Gardener in liis turn felt a sudden thrill of revelation. There was more in this than he knew. He had touched some strange chord in her nature too lightly. "Sacha," he exclaimed in a tone of regret. "I've done wrong, I see. But I didn't know; I didn't understand it— though I half understand now. But only half; I think I cau partly guess. Owen's not his own master. He's sailing, I fancy, under sealed orders." "You have said it— not I," Sacha faltered, all trenihling. "I know no more than you do." The young man seized her hand once more and raised it reverently to his lips. "I ask you no questions," he said. "I respect your xmspoken wish. But some day this knot, no doubt, will unravel itself. Till then I'll wait for ybu. Arul if not — why, Sacha, I'll wait for you forever." ■ied, facing frightened "But I see o anything irtain." AVhat had ut forth her nervous ex- t •'•m " -y 204 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. ' 1^ B. LWi i<^ CHAPTER XXII. THE NEMESIS OF CULTURE. In Lmd')!!, that stime aft<>rnoon, it occurred quito ciiHiially ta Mr. Henley Stokes, at .'> Pump Court, Temple, that as Sacha and lone had gone down to Moor Hill for the day together. Black- bird might possibly find herself rather lonely at the flat off Victoria Street. So, being a g.iod- natured, though timid and uu8ophi8ti(!ated young man, prone t ) attemi)t works of charity in how- ever huml'lo a sphere, he decided with himself, after r.ii internal struggle, to step round to the flat and bear the Cinderella company. Mr. Henley Stokes was alwayn close-shaven, but seldom did his face look so preternaturally clean and shiny as on that particular afternoon. Mr. Henley Stokes wore an orchid in his button hole as Ji matter of j)rinciple — he was "sound," th(' Birmingliam party said, very sound politi- cally; but never in his life before iiad so gorgeous an orchid graced his best frock-coat, or so glossy a tall silk hat pressed the curh on his forehead. He stood long before the glass arranging his tie in a loose sailor knot before he went out; and as he glided along on the District Railway in a I ■s^vitat 'arifi :£sW' MPM mmnffmm UNDKK 8KAUC1> OHDKKH. 205 it occurred at T) Pump le had gone her, Bhifk- 3r lonely at ing a gnod- !ated young ity in how- th himself, ound to the * ose-shaven, ternaturally ■ afternoon. L his button IS "sound," 3und politi- 80 gorgeous or so glossy is forehead, giug his tie out; and fis ail way in a first-class carriage, h(> Hash»>d his cufTs more than once with uneasy snlicituile. It was clear that Henley Stokes, good philan- thropist an he was, attached much importance to saving Hope Braithwaite from the dullness of her solitude. When ho rang at the door of the Hat, Black- bird opened it to him herself, and theti ran back into the passage. Her sleeves were rolled up to the ell)owH, and she wore over her dross a dainty cretonne apron; but she looked as graceful as ever, for all that, in her lithe, though melan- choly, girlish fashion. "I'm housemaid to-day, you see," she said, somewhat less listlessly than usual, pulling her sleeves Jown hurriedly, "lone answers the door as a rule. But the others are gone awfiy. Yoa must excuse my appearance." Henley Stokes stammered out sometlung in- audible about her appearance reipiiring no apol- ogy — (piite the contrary — quite the contrary — and followed her into the passage, looking in- tensely sheepish. Blackbird, too, had an air jis of one caught at some awkward moment. "You must let me run out into the labnratory a second," she saitl, almost blushing in those pallid thin cheeks of hers. "I've something to put away out there. I ... er ... I was pottering abnit with niy chemicals." "Oh, let me come and help you," the barrister put in, confusedly. "Ybu see, I know all the back premises so well, of course. I cleared away %^^M- ■,:,-jf'.'#.»-3i#:*. ao;; 6NDKH SKALKD OKDKU8,. hU tlmt litter thoro boforo you were up this morn- "OU, no, you iiui«tn'i oornc," iUiicklnni Prioil, vvjiving him buck; l>iit llio pliilHutiiropic young iiuiii wouldn't l)r..ok bi«inj,'5,'iiinHiiii. He lollowcd li«r out inli) tlio littlo piintry -'or it whs really Molhint,' niore-iind hclpi>d lu>i to take off the quuiT thiu^fH aim wuh bivwiiig. It WHS only ca.Huaily as bo did ho tluit ho hap- ponod to observe slie had l)eeu distilling some- thing greenish from h heaj) of bruised loaves. A book of directions lay open on the table at "Hydroeya/iii- Aeid." A smell us of laurel- water jH'rvade.l t!ie liltlo laboratory. Hut at the moment lleidey Stokos hardly heeded theso details. His mind was too much occupiod— s » ho thought just then— with more important matters. They cleared away the moss, strained the water from the bruised leaves, and put the still she had btH3u working with into the corner cupi)oiird. Then JJIaekbird suddenly transformed herself into a drawing-room lady. She looked lier great mass of black hair about her face and hhouhkMs, pidled otV her pretty .ii)ron, repbiced her white cults, and went back to the front room, f jUowed close by her visitor. Then she flung herself, -is was her wont, into the long wicker chair, and clasped her handti Iwhind her head. "You louk tired," Henley Stokes ventured to murmur, .sympathotii-ally. "Yes, tired!" she echoed, closing her ey^; ^i SJ^y^TPtp if T* ^tV-t- - .^J^.'K';^. Vi'fc.%% - .•L^J, Kt. cup this morn liu'khinl priod, itliroj)i(; young [ ll»r it WHS really ij take off tlio lo tlmt ho }iap- i stilling sonio- ruisoil loaves. 1 the table at us of laurel- ory. ■Jtokoa hardly was too much m — with more ined the water le still hIio had ler Pupboiird. arniod licrsclf e looHed her hor i'acf3 and pron, rephiced le front room, wr wont, into ed her handfi (8 ventured to ing her ey^; •"^mm UNDRR SKALRT) OKDRKH. 207 "very tirod, indeed!" in a voice of nthnr IprhI- tude. "When wasn't I tired, I shoulil like to know?" slio added, almoHt fier;-;'ly. "I was horn tired, I heliove. At any rate, I've l)(>en tired over sim^o; as long as [ can r(mionih<>r, I've hoen tired uninterni[)t<'dly. Dead tired! Dog tired. It's the epitome of my existence!" The young man leaned across toward her. "Miss Hraithwaite," he began, half tenderly. Blackbird liftt>d her lids, looked up at hirn, and Ibvshed fire from h(>r lustrous eyes. "How 8trang(i it is," she cried, i)etidantly, "that you call both the others by their Christian names; but you call nw, as if on purpose, so stitfly, Miss Hraithwaite. Do you do it inten- tionally? Why thin invidious distinction?" "Invidious!" Henley answered, taken aback. "Oh, no, it isn't invidious. T ciuld hardly ex- plain to you the reason just yot; hut it's because . . . . well, because I respect and like you so much. When you respect a woman immensely, don't you know, you . . . or . . . are afraid to take lilMjrtios with hor." "I d(p(tl Hopt'I mill to iMi>! TIk^v chriHt- en«(l me JIopo, ilid tlicy!' Tlii»y nhouhl liiivn onHod mn l)»>spiiir. It wouM have hoon much nion> iipprr)|(iiHtt>." Hcnhiy StokoH hiokod pityiiijj;ly ut hur from thorn) honest kiud ryps of hin. "No, no," ho put in hnstily. "Don't Hiiy thnt, ph'iiHO . . . lihickhird. 1 niiiy call you lUack- hird? < )ii, thauk you. It'a ho kiud of you. . . . And you know why I novci* callt'd you Blackhird before, till this vory day, though all tho othoix did, and though I called tho others lono und Hacha. You //i».s7 know. Can't you guoss? It isn't very ditFicidt." Bhickhird shook lu«r head sturdily. This was a had afternoon with her. "Well, hocauso I lovod you, then," Honley Stokos went on. "And when a man roally lovos a f^irl, ho's u thousand times more particular ahoiit what ho says or dops to her — a thousand times more careful of her dignity and her sanctity — than with all tho others." He spoko rapidly, thickly, hut -yith a mingled earnestness and nervousness that might have melted a stono. And ho watched Blackhird's face as ho spoke, not daring to take her hand, though it lay on the wicker ledge of the long low chair, just six inches from his own. He was trembling all over. Blackbird saw his eyes r'„Vr';i^», !4ii*rn^)tr^"^^:&M m. I (limMl," 1 (jfcHturo of ro- Tlioy cliriHt- shoiild liiivit ^e beon much lit hur from )()n't Hfiy tlint, ill yon JUat'k- I of you. , . . you Bliic'khird all tho others lors lono unci 'ou gnows? It ly. Thin was lion," Ilonley in roally lovos are particular — a thouaaiid 1 her sanctity ith a miuf^K'd might have I Blackhird's ike her hand, i of the long lis own. He I saw his eyes rMDBK MKALRP oKDKRS. 209 glnnoo for n second at thoso thin whito fingcrH, as it" in doubt wliothcr t > claHp tii(>n\ or not— and withdrew them hurrit>dly. Ilcnlcy not<»d the action and Highod. Tiiort' wan a 1 >ng, doe), pauri(\ 'i'hen Blackliird hcgari once more in her W(^ary voict): "Why ilo you say thoso things to mo?" "I've told you," tho yoimg man answorod, tlirilling. " Because I lovo you, Blackbird." iMackl)ird raised Iut white hand — thin, deli- cate, blue- veined — and snapix'd one .^lender mid- dle-finger against the tluunb, most daintily. In liny other woman, the action would have been trivial — nay, almost vulgar. In Blimkbird, it seemed so spiritualized and etherealized by the length and tliinnesH of the fingers that Henley's heart only sank at it. "Love!" she cried, writh a sudden outburst. '"Love! Love! What is it? Pain I know, and Sleep I know — but Sleep less well than I'ain; but Pleasure and Love — in iiii/ world, they are not." Henley Stokes gazed down upon her with eyes of infinite pity. This strange aerial creature, all music and thought, with no body to speak of, had j'et a strange fascination fir the woil-dressed. Well-to-do, simple-hearted man-about-town. Slio hiK. the double attraction of novelty and c."U- trast. She was not in th(> least like himself, not tho least like anybody. She was unicpie, unmatchablo. But he hardly knew what to say, all the same, to so curious an outbreak. "Sleep, you know!" he murmured low. "And ■M i^:g--^ -■: Mi 210 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. ft- 1«^ U:- '7%, ia that tht very nearest you ever get to Pleasure, Blackbird y" The girl threw back her well-poised head, turned up her lustrous eyes, and displayed un- consciously to the best advantage that full and hisciouL4 throat whicli marks the vocalist's tem- perament. "The vei-y uearost I ever get to it," she an- swered, slowly. "Yes, the very, very nearest." She clasped her blue-veined hands behind her head once more, and closed her big eyes dream- ily. Henley longed to stoop over her and kiss the full throat, in his pure warm passion, but his heart misgave him. Blackbird drew a deep breath or two, her bosom rose and fell. She sighed as naturally as though no one were look- ing on. She was too modern, too weak, too frail, to be afraid of him. "No, I don't often sleep," she went on, as if two-thirds to herself, "Most- ly, now, I lie awake and repeat those sweet lines from Andrew Lang's Ballade, that I set to musicu: " Shy dreams flit to and fro With sliadowy Jiair disproad : WitK wistl'iil eyes that glow, And silent robes that sweep. Tlioii wilt not hear me : no? Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?" m- But sometimes, at last, I doze off for au hour or two; and then it's all so beautiful — so soft, 80 heavenly. Perhaps I may dream, and even dreams are delicious; for dream, too, is from Zeus, as Agamemnon says to Calchas, in the fpfspipifll RS. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 211 et to Pleasure, l-poised head, displayed un- that full and vocalist's tem- to it," she an- very nearest." ds behind her ig eyes dream- >r her and kiss ri passion, but d drew a deep and fell. She one were look- veak, too frail, t often sleep," irself. "Most- ose sweet lines I set to musics 1: f for au hour itiful — so soft, jam, and even , too, is from alchas, in the Iliad. But oftenep I fall asleep and lie like a lof? for an hour or two without kuowinjif it at all — just the same as if I were dead; and that's loveliest of everything. Perhaps the reason I love Sleep, gentle Sleep, so well is because ho seems to promise Death, too, will be gentle." "Oh, don't talk like tliat, Blackbird," Henley cried, clasping his hands together in genuine dis- tress. "When ym speak so it frightens me. At your ago it isn't natural." But Blackbird was now enjoying the one tremulous joy she really knew — that of pour- ing forth her sad soul like a nightingale in the woods, to a sympathetic listener, and jhe wasn't going to he balked of her amusement for so little. , "Just think how delicious it would be," she went on, still dreamily, with eyes tight shut, and head thrown back inert on the padded chair, "to lie down like this and p^ow drowsy, drowsy, drowsy; and bo dimly conscious one need never wake up again, or move one's tired limbs, or get botliered with thinking! How delicious to feel, without even knowing it, the grass growing green above one's weary limbs ; to rest on a bed one need never leave; to be at peace at last, all peace, and forever I" "Blackbird!" the young man said, "if you talk so, you'll kill me!" "What a service I should be doing you!" Blackbird answered, all at once opening her eyes and gazing hard at him. "Don't you think it's one of the worst miseries of our life m^-'^^i^sM.: 21.i UNDER SEALED OnuuMH. '$ i:^ here on earth to be told from time to time how others have died — thi.s one first, siud then that one — and to romembor all the while that years upon years may have to pass before ever we can follow them?" Henley Stokes leaned across to her in genuine distress. But he changed the key suddenly. "Blackbird," he began, in a very abrupt tone — ho loved to repeat that name, now he had once summoned up coiu-age to call her by it — "don't you want to be loved? Don't you long, oh, ever BO much, for some one to love you?" To his immense surprise. Blackbird clinched her liands hard, and sat upright in her seat with unexpected energy. "Long for it!" she cried, a passionate wave surging over her pale face. "Hunger and thirst for it ! Pine and die for it! From my babyhood upward, I've been yearning to bo loved. I want somebody to sympathize with me, to pet me, to be f.^nd of me!" "And now you've got it!" Henley Stukes murmured, slowly. "And now I've got it," Blackbird answered. (Was ever so strange a wooing?) She thrust her clinched little fists in her cheeks and bit her lip till it bled. "Oh, you poor, poor soul," she cried, "what on earth can I say to you?" "Don't you like me?" the young man asked, bending over her. "Like you!" Blackbird echoed; "if anyone will love me, I could devour him, I could wor- ship him ! I could fall down before him and let ii^iiiii ^ II HM .-,J'^MMf 1 .'r^L fy abrupt tone >\v he had once • by it— "don't long, oh, ever ?" kbird clinched 1 her seat with issionate wave Igor and thirst I my babyhood loved. I want , to pet me, to [lenley Stukea )ird answered. ?) She thrust }ks and bit her )Oor soul," she • you?" g man asked, I; "if any one 1, I could wor- »re him and let UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 2i:} him trample me to death! I could kill myHolf bj' slow t-trture for him!' Dimly even then, Henley Stokes was aware that in the midst of these ardent protestations, true and heartfelt as they wore, the poor cliild was thinking of herself all the time, not of him; but he \vi\s too preoccupied for his own part with Blackbird's sorrows to be definitely conscious of that strange; limitation. "And you'll love me?" he cried, liis heart coming up into his mouth for joy. 'Oh, say you won't refuse to let me love you?" "Love you!" Blackbird answered, clasping her hands on her knees, and sitting up slill to look straight at him. "Why, I can't help lov- ing you If a crossing-sweeper were to lovo me, I must love him in reiurn, I yearn so for sym- pathy. And v/o» — I lovo you— oh, yes; oh, ever so much! I'm so grateful to you; s> pleased with you!" "And I may take — just one," the young man said, pleading hard and leaning forward tenta- tively. At that movement, ever so slight, Blackbird drew back, all abashed. The bare proposal seemed to shock her — nay, almost frightened her. She trembled all over. "Oh, no," she cried, aghast. "Not that— - that, never. I'm so grateful for your love. But you didn't want — to /./.s.v me!" She said it with an accent of reproach — almost of positive disgust. But Henley Stokes was more human. \*:-;X: ;»^!!;:a ^■Wf***!* 214 UNDER HEALED OUDBES. . "Well, yes, I did," he said, stoutly, with the unr«gonemto Hiiiiplicity of a fieah - and - blood young man. "Tliat was just what I meant. I vvantod t:) kiss you, Blackbird." The girl shrank back into the chaii', like oue cowed. "Oh, you niisuiidoi'staiul!" she cried, in an almost agonized voice. "I only meant I lori'if you. I clidii't moan I could A/.s-.s-. Such thiu}.';ii as that must never come in between us!" It wa.s Henley's turn now to draw back, as- tonished. "But ... I took this as a proposal, " he fal- tered out, slowly; "and ... I thought . . . you accepted me. If we're to consider ourselves engaged — why, surely, surely, I ought to kis i you." "Engaged!" Blackbii'd repeated, in a tone of unutterable contempt. "What"; Engaged! to be married! . . . Oh, no, dear, dear friend! I never dreamed oven of that. It's impossible. Impossible! Wholly, wholly iinpos.sible!" "Why?" Henley Stokes asked, all trembling. This riddle was too hard for him. What a grand creature she was, to be sui'el Ho could never understand her! Instead of answering him, Blackbird burst into a sudden flood ot tears. "Oh, I can't tell you to-daj'," she sobbed out, holding his hand, and rising. "I'm so happy — so happy. So much happier than 1 ever was in my life 1 of ore. Now I know at last what hap- piness means. Don't let me kill it outright. \ *ry/. ontly, with the eah - and - blood vh.it I ineant. I." chuir, liko one le criud, in iin meant I lored . Such things (en us!'"' draw back, as- )posal," ho fal- [ thought . . . isider ourselves ought to kis i ad, in a tone of Engaged ! to dear friend! I [t's impossible. possible!" , all trembling. What a grand lo could never cbird burst into she sobbed out, I'm so happy — I 1 ever was in last what hap- ill it outright. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 216 { Don't let me spoil it oy telling you why an engagement's impossible." And she i tshed over to the piano, throbbing and sobbing liko a child, and took refuge in a weird piece of her own melancholy music. CHAPTER XXIII. THE !• A T H OF DUTY. That evening lone went back to tawn, and Owen was left by himself at the Red Cottage. He had a bad half hour, as soon as she was gone, with his accusing const^ience. .\nd what was worse, the bad half hour lengthened itself out by degrees into a sleepless night, in the course of which Owen toased and turned, and got no rest for his poor brain, thinking feverishly of the Cause, and Mr. Hayward betrayed, and bleed- itig Russia, abandoned to her fate, and . . . lone Dracopoli'b sweet smile of sunshine. Yes, try as he would, he couldn't get lono Dracopoli's pretty face out of his head for a min- ute. He knew it was wrong; but he couldn't help it. He was in love with lone, very deeply in love; but to what end could it lead him? He was ashamed, himself, even to put the question. »j,fi mmmmmmmi 21C UNDER SEALKD ORDERS For, ns ho lay luvfiko there in his hod, running over hirt hazardous nMo in life, ho wfis conscious of one wicked, one hack-sliding preoccupation he thout?ht most now, 'ut of hetrnj'al to the Cause, hut of rjcks ahoad for lone. That was in trutli the very head and front of hid olfendiiig. He loved Ime. But how cjuld ho ever hope even in the dim future to marry her? He oughtn't to have allowed himself to give way as ho did to-day; their lips tihould never have met; those last fatal words of avowal should never have heen spoken. For lone's sake, not for the Cause's! For this fresh Greek Circe was clearly leading him on into a hopeless love- affair. He could never marry anybody; he saw thai (piito clearly now. His whole life wa.s mortgaged Just in proiK)rtion as ho hjved loiio did the feeling grow stronger from hnir to hour upon him that he could never ask any woman on earth t) share his peril jUS fat'.i with him. Ho must go through life with a halter round his nock ; he must tread the crumbling ash on the brink of a volcano. Any day he might he called upon to strike that blow for Russia; and success must mean death — a felon's death amid tlio hushed, half-admiring execration of all civilized Europe. For himself, that was nothing; ho had been accustomed to the idea in his own mind so long, and -had heard its glories painted in such glowing colors by tlie man he most respected and revered on earth, that it had no greater ter- rors for him than the idea of activ^e service has for the born soldier. But for lone — ah, that was -iia_ is 1)0(1, running I was conscious •eoccupation he 1 to the Cause, ,(i and front of But how cjuld tare to marry v^ed himself to nr lips tilioukl ords of avowal for loue's sake, sh Greek Circo , hopeless love- j'body ; he saw i^liole life was :i ho hjvod loiio in hnxr to hour any woman on vith him. lie liter round his ling ash on tho night he called ia; and success ath amid tiio of all civilized othing; ho had is own mind so painted in sutdi most respected no greater ter- ive service has ) — ah, that was UNDER SBAI^KD OKDERS. 817 different — how different, oh, how different. Could he expose her to 8uc\j a risk, such a strain, such a catastrophe? Happy, whole-hearted, eas3'--going English lad that he was, he had sat constantly without one qualm on a barrel of gunpowder. For the very first time in his life, howover, on his bed that night, Owen thought tho whole thing out to himselfi quite definitely and in full detail. Let him get into the diplomatic service, for ex- ample — and be engaged to lone. Suppose, then, the Chance — that supreme Chance of his life, to which he had been taught from childhood to look forward to with eagerness, should arrive during tho years while he was still waiting for lone. He (flapped his hands on his eyes, pressing the pupils hard, and pictured the whole scene to him- self vividly, graphically. He saw it unfold itself before his mental vision in long panorama as it might actually occur. He realized his Mission with intense actuality. He stood in a ball-room, at Vienna, he would suppose—or no, in a great hall of the palace at Laeken, on the hill liehind Brussels, some early suunner evening. Principalities and powers floated before his eye, glittering with such garish decorations as the essenti>xlly barbaric ' royal mind delights in. Then in uniform clus- tered in groups with gay ladies in court dress ; he saw the glare of diamonds, the flash of scarlet facings. Aides-de-camp and chamberlains jostled page and lackey. At one end, embodied Bel- gium stood, awkwardly regal, with All the Rus- ■f II- II 918 VNnKR 8RALRD OKDKR8. sias by his side, nmoiifj: a tinsel ttirouj? of \An7.- inp stars uiid orders.. Kvory gewgaw thatiriiikcM majesty fi>r the vulgar mind contribute(' its part to that brave show — dross, feathers, swords, music, the loud blare of tho band, the dazzling Bplondor of elei-trie light, the pomp of sewor and seneschal, the powdered checks and scented bos- oms of beautiful women. And through the midst of it all, as in a prophetic haze, Owen saw himself strolling calmly in his Foreign Office uniform— an alien element, tall, broad-built, c mtemptuous, looking down from his stately eminence of six feet two, as was his wont, on the surging mob of smaller folk aroimd him. Ho crossed the floor again atid again, with his ea«y gliding tread, and a smile on his lips, stopping here to murmur a nord or two in his purest Parisian to an embassador's wife, or there t.) address a few guttural compliments to a High Wellborn Countess or a Serene Altitude. Then all of a sudden — a pause, a hush, a movement! All the Russias, star-bedizened, strides slowly down the midst, through a lane that opens def- erential, spontaneous, automatic — a Queen Con- sort on his arm — there, before him, the Enemy. . . . Owen stands by, and sees the Chance arrive. The Victim passes close to him. Quick as thought out with the sword — no tailor's toy, but a ser- viceable blade hanging trusty by his side — or else, still better, up with tho avenging revolver from his waistcoat breast, and . . . crjish ... it buries itself in the tyrant's bosom. Then a noise, a commotion, a rushing up on all sides. JE ii.', >,, i'-\'. 3^fr irouj? of l)U\z- iw tlmtinakcH biihv' its part tierri, Bwords, , tlio dazzling of Howor and 1 scented boH- in aprophotio Oidmly in hiH olouumt, tidl, f< down from i^o, as WI18 his »r folk around d again, with e on his lips, or two in his wife, or tijor» nts to a High bitude. Then a movement! strides slowly liat opens def- ft Queen Con- , the Enemy, /hance arrive, ick as thought y, but a ser- his side — or iging revolver . cnish ... it 3m, Then a < on all sides. MMIIP ■^ Ki~: '*m- UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. n» Blood gurgles from a wound; angry hands lie hard on the avongor's shoulder. Owen li»t« the revolver fall, and stands, arms crossed, smiling scornfully. Let them do their worst now, Rus- sia is vindicated, and justice has wreaked her will on tlie chief executioner. Ho hud seen that picture before more than once in his day-dreams— had never at all so clearly. He had vvatchtul the man drop; ho had stood so, bolt upright, tall, strong, calm, triumphant, con- scious of right on his side, a willing martyr to a groat Cause, looking down with cold disdain on scared flunkeys around him. But never till to- night had he noticed sj plainly blood oozing out of the wound, horrid filth on the floor, the terri- fied faces of pale women behind, the hatetul phys- ical accompaniments of a political assassination. He had thought of himself ah-nys till then as the central figure of the scene — avenging democracy personified and victorious. To-night, he was somehow more conscious of his victim as well ; t»ad though he roc jgnized the man still as a crim- inal to be punished, without fear or remorse, ho remembered for the first time in his life that even an Autocrat is human, built up of nnl blood and warm fiesh, as ire are. But that wasn't the point, either, that made him pause the most. You may w.>ndor at it, of course; but consider his upbringing! It was lone he thought of, now. What would lone say of it? Could he fancy himself, so loving her, engaged to her, bound to her — yet committing that act, and bringing all that misery on her iu- i^ii^^ftmrnmsi - ^&^^ "i'/^'C^ 990 UNDER HRAKKI) OKDKIIH. nwnnt hfml !" For hcc what it meant ! lono in London I. me wiilkiiifjfdown VictnriuSU'tH't I A pliu-ard at tho croHsiiigs, laid flat on tlio muddy ground! "AsHnHrfination of the Czar," in j^roat Harinff i-fd l(*tt('i>i! Sho l)nyrt a paper — teaiH it open, tluMi and thtm-, all trembling'. That lauf^httir-lovinK face grown white aH death; those plump hands quiver horrilj^v. "Owen Cazalet, an attache at the EnjjfliHh Eml)a.s:n behind! Oh, why did he ever meet her? Why did he ever allow himself that day to be dragged into it? Take hands, and part with laughter; touch lips, and part with tears. They too had touched lips, and this would be the upshot. Or, perhaps, it might come biter; for Mr. Hay- ward had warned him never to count upon the Chance as certain, or to seize it prematurely, but to watch and wait, watch and wait with ; :iii er,"'n tlio nmddy 5jir, " in ({rent piipor — ttiarH iblin^'. That ^ tloiit li ; tlioKO )wou Crtzalot, ■^r*y — oaiiHo of Inoss." She) ono hand for kI. So that's i! plicoH, princi- ■et, a Russian entro witlj, the eager. But '^ho viiren for who cares for -if lone sits n while, wait- ible aontencey eft miserablo y did he over ' himself that er; touch lips, touched lips, for Mr. Hay- mnt upon the prematurely, id wait with rrp I UNDKll .SUALUI) (>KDKR3. Mt patience, till opportunity brought occasion pat round at the one apt moment. Ho might have got on by then, lot u.s suj)poHn- -and liavo nifirritil lone. Hut how marry any woman with such n hazard an that over vagutly in store for her? How jeopardize her happiness every day of ono'.s life? How trust her, oven, to keep the atvfiil secret, and not interfere to prevent the roaliz.i- tion of his puqnise? Mr. Hay ward was right, after all. A woman's a delusion. Man should keep his hands free to do the work that's set before him. How serve your coimtry or your Cause if you know success must moan rod ruin and the breaking up of homo to your wife and children, or to tho girl who loves you? Better by far keep oiit of love alto- gether. But then — ho hadn't kept out of it. lone had stormed his heart; and even while his head told him in very clear terms he owed it to her and the Cause to break all off at once, his heart was beating hard to the recurrent tune of lone, lono, lone, lone. She was so bright, so lovable, so exactly what he wanted. And Russia was so far away, and lone so near him. Then, suddenly, the thought came across hiiii — tho wicked, traitorous thought — Did he really want to kill the chief criminal at all? Were it not better done, as others use — to stop at home at his ease and make love to lone? . Appallod at the ghastly temptation, he sat up in his bed, and cast it from him bodily. He cast it from him, in the most literal and physical n^ I'NhKK SKAl-KI» ()KI»KR8. w BoiiHo, with liin two IuiihIh Htretchod out and hin fjicK iivcrtcil. H<« Piirtt it from him. hcrrorrttnick, with all tlio forco of his Ht^l)ll^JJ yoMU^; arms aiul all tlut iTitciisity of hiw itilu^ritnil KuKrtiaii iiiituro. Got the<> h»>hiritl iiii'. Hataii ! Ho rojoottxl it anrl ropiiiliat^'il it, as a yoim|j;maii, othorwiso traiiaid, nii^^lit ri^jcct ami rop'.iiliatti tho most doadly sin. Turn his i)ack upoa tho (^lusc'/ Provo troach- er uis to his mirturtMind admonition in tho Faith'/ DiHappnint all the doarcst hopes of thoso who had horn kindi-st ami ImjsI t) him"/ Oh, Mr. Hay ward! Mr Hay ward! Perish iho th')nKht forever. In an agony of remorsH and shame, the i)nor lad fliinf^ it away from him. Yet it haimtod him still, that instillation of th» devil! From all sides it hatinted hiin. Tho turninj^ point of yaith had eome: the critiod jijjjo of doultt, of deliheration, of roeonstrnction, of resolution. Russi:i — the bnrninti^ wron^ys of that tortured country — his father's blood that cried from the ground, like righteous AImjI'r, for vengeance* — his motlu'r's faoe, wandering mad through the HtreKK8. Mt m1 out and hiH liirrorrtfriu'k, iiu^^ nrn\H uiul itKrtiim nature, •ojcctod it and rwiKO traiiiod, •Ht di'iidly HJn. I'rovo troucli- lintho Fiiithi' of tllOHO WllO inV Oil, Mr. h tin? th')UKlit H and slid till', rn. iuKtijjfation of ;i«d liiin. Tho i; tho eritifal oconstruction, tig wrongs of 's blood that )UH AI>gI's, for uidering mad ) crowiunl and last clutching and, weighed ae, lono, Tono for guidance ! iirobbed fierce the room, and A photograi)h lantel-piece in tly. He took it up and kissed it with hot, fovoriHh lips. It waw Mr. Ilayward'H portrait of lorn- iu Iut Moor- ish coBlunus Mr. Hay ward's— of lone! There »toopoHito polos of his oHcilhiting dt^'otion. lono — Mr. Hay ward; Mr. Hay ward — i one. (), kuric liraBHofY, iiuric UrawsofT, you said truly that day on the Morocco hills "Love is a great snare." And wisely, too, you said, "Keep your head clear if you can, and let the Cause have the heart of you." Hut now, lone Dracopoli had Owen C'azalet'a I'.cart; and the Cause— why the Cause, as Owou would have phrased it himstdt, though it still had his head, was just nowhere in tho run- ning. For it was no longer Russia, that bleeding, distracted country, that Owen balanced in tho scale against lone's love. It was Mr. Hay ward's aspirations. A Cause, after all, is a very ab- stract entity, especially when you're only just turned one-and-twenty. But a porson is a differ- ent thing; and Owen loved Mr. Hay ward. No son ever loved and revered his father as Owen loved and revered that earnest, austere, single- hearted Nihilist. He admired him with all his soul. He couldn't boar even to harbor a thought that might displease him. For Mr. Hayward's sake, ho must go on, and persevere. He must . . . give up — oh God, he must give up — But no — not even in word — he couldnH give up lone. 1 \ir^^ 224 INDEK SKALKP ORDERS. And 80 on the Yii lia. She opened l»er eyes wide at that oracular utterance. "How could they?" she exclaimed, in sur- prise. "Nobody's come or gone. Why, even the post's not in yet ihis morning." "Things may occur in tho night," Owen an- swered, somewhat gloomily — for how could he so much fts speak of such high matters to Aunt Julia? "The vision of my head on my bed, per- hai>s. ... I want to talk certain points over, anyhow, with Sacha." "It isn't Sacha you want to see, Owen, I'm afraid," Aunt Julia burst out, severely, shaking one lifted forefinger. "It's that otb- ■ queer girl. The one that rides astride like a ; ' n?id fre- quents strange harems." "But I saw lone, too, yesterday,'' ^'v ,u an- swered, smiling grimly, for he loved to mystify her. "I wonder, if it comes t'> that, you don't say Blackbird." Aunt Julia drew back, almost shocketl. "Well, I should hope you'd have the good 1 ) m i-^ ^ftSfci:^;'- :^^J£:^ii': '• 8. t wiis tho Oh ry, not the Oh fVhiit to do, or notice of it. nt Juliii tried day," slic ob- erday. ' ' erday," Owen . 8he opened rauce. imed, in siir- "Why, even t," Owen an- how could he attt^rs to Aunt n my bed, per- 1 points over, ee, Owen, I'm erely, shaking ;br!T,neer girl. I,, .r tVid fre- f,'' ■ 'N u an- ved to mystify iiat, you don't ihocketl. lave the good 1 ) UNDER SEALED ORDERS. i»T1i>B«p iii n w ii u i miM I 227 taste to say nothing to her,'' she observed, with dignity. "Not only are her views extremely unsound, but there's insanity in the family— of that I'm certain." "Insanity in the family!" Owen echoed, "Why, who told you that. Aunt Julia?" Tho prop of orthodoxy sat up very stiff as she answered, with some warmth : "I saw it for myself. The girl's mad; I'm sure of it." "How do you mean?" Owen asked again. "Why, you remember one day last year Sacha asked her down here for lunch?— Oh, no, of course, you were away with Mr. Hayward. — Well, we went out in the afternoon, and up on the knoll till evening. As we were sitting by the summer-house, and I was talking to her of her state, tliere was a very pretty sunset; and I saw, to my surprise, the girl was crying. 'What's the matter, mj- dear? Is your heart touched?' I asked her. And she answered: 'Oh, no. Miss Cazalet; I'm only crying because the sunset's so beautiful I' Well, she must be mad, you know, before she'd talk like that. And nobody has a right to fall in love with a girl who has insatuty in the family." "People can't help falling in love sometimes," Owen mused, smiling again that grim smile. And Aunt Julia stared hard at him. "Not that I'm -going to fall in love with poor little Black- bird," he went on, quickly, seeing Aunt Julia's brow darken. "There's jiot enough of her, poor thing, for one to fall in love with. You may .'0 '■i';*J; »^ '"'m': ■.•>r, -^ 228 UNDER SEALED ORDEHS. make yourself porfertly easy on that score, should never even think of her." And he went on eating Ids porridge in gloomy silence. The 8:50 train took him straight up to Vic- toria, and ten nunutes' walk landed him at Ihe flat off Mctoria Street. lone opened the door for him — she wjis the recognized housemaid. His heart came up into his mouth at sight of her; hut he had made up his mind heforehand not to lean forward and kiss her, and he almost kept to it. The Hesh. however, is weak. lone smiled at him so sweetly, and held her hand out BO frankly that, as he took it, the blood leaped to his face at the touch, and his heart beat wildly. Before he knew it, the man within him had done what he had sworn to avoid. His lips had touched hers — and he drew back 'all at once, abashed, ashamed and penitent. "Where's Sachay" he asked, holding his breath. "I — I came up to see her." "Ah — family affection!" lone answered, with laughing eyes, yet flushed red with pleasure. She took the kiss as her due, after yesterday, of course; but she was well pleased, none the less (as what woman wouldn't be?) that Owen couldn't rest one day without coming to see her. "Sit down in the drawing-room here, Owen, and I'll run and fetch her." Owen followed where she led. In the draw- ing-room Blackbird lounged lazy, as usual, in the long wicker chair, but still paler and whiter than her wont ; while her eyes looked very red, idgo ill gloomy ight up to Vic- (led him at Iho [lened the door ;ed housemdid. uth at sight of ind beforehand and lie almost is weak. lone d her hand out le blood leaped art beat wildly. 11 him had done His lips had ik 'all at once, 1, holding his her." answered, with with pleasure, ifter yesterday, eased, none the be?) that Owen ning to see her. lere, Owen, and In the draw- zy, as usual, in laler and whiter ooked very red, .-r^'r- ■^Wk*-/"'-':)^ n~f:"7 .'f*i^'V-'j:^i'!.i UNDER SE.\T,ED OKDERS. I J < 0iif, . 1 1 III m >m '> ^isfff imr j^ as if from crying or sleeplessness. She rose as Owen enteretl, gave a distant little bow, and left the room precipitately. But the l)ook she'd been reading lay open on the chair. Owen took it up and glanced at it in a vacant sort of way, wliile lone was gone. He didn't observe it much, or pay any great attention to it. But the book was "Maud," and an orchid and a laurel leaf were l^ressed at tlve point where Blackbird had l)e0n reading. The verse against which the orchid rested its petals was tliis: " Oil may tin; solid jri'ound Not fail beneath iny feet Before my life has found What some have found so sweet." Owen know the lines well, and remembered the something they spoke of was love. But ho never troubled to inn to him that > Nihilist, too. -^as it wearing "^ UNDER SEALED ORDERS. »8I In temperament, ay — he was Russian to the core, though with a very strong dash of English practicality and solidity as well; yet all Russian in his idealism, his devotion, his enthusiasm. But !is to sentiment — well, more doubtful; his English training had made him in many things what he really was, and Mr. Hayward alone had encouraged the undeveloped Russian tendencies. And now, since he knew lone, he felt more En- glish than ever. He would have liked to settle down with Tone to a quiet English life— if it were not for the fear of disappointing Mr, Hay- ward. But to disappoint Mr. Hayward would be no light matter. It would be to blight the hopes of a life, to destroy at one blow a whole vast fabric of plans and schemes and visions. He sat down in the studio chair. Sacha ex- plained to her model briefly that the gentleman spoke a foreign language, and that she would work while she talked to him. Owen leaned forward and began. Sacha, immovable as usual to the outer eye, stood up before her canvas, half facing him, half looking toward themwlel. The girl, scantily clad, cowered and crouched to keep warm in the imaginary snow. Sacha painted on, as if absorbed, while Owen spoke to her in Russian. "You know what happened yesterday?" he began. Sacha nodded, and put in a stroke at the child's golden hair. "I could guess it," she answered, shortly. il i mmemmmmimmi^ ^ I. 233 UNDER SEALED OREER8. "And, indeed, lone half told me. That is to say, when I teasod her about it, she more than half admitted it." Then Owen explained the whole episode, in timid, bashful words, down to the very last touch about blowing up the Czar; and that, as in honor ■ bound, he nsfraineil from tolling her. But Sacha could guess it all the same, though she went on painting sis if for dear life. She knew more than she said. Not nnich escaped Sacdia. When he'd finished, she looked up. "WellV" she murmured, eahnly. "I've had a sleepless night," Owen answered, stretching out his big arms and legs in an ex- pressive fashion. "Thinking of lone?" Bacha put in — though she knew it wasn't that. "No. Thinking of Mr. Hay ward." For the first time the brush faltered in Sacha's steady hand, and her breath came and went. "He wouldn't like it, you thinkV" she said, quickly. "It would interfere . . . with his plans for your future?" "Oh, Sacha, you know it would." Sacha fiddled away at the golden hair still more vigorously than ever. "I've never been told so," she answered, after a short, silent interval. "But you guess a great deal, I'm sure." "Yes — p very much in the work ho intends me. for." "For the diplomatic service, in short," Saclui l)ut in, dijiloniatically. ( )won eyed her with a start. No word of th(> real truth ever passed between those two; yet oven without speaking tliey understood one another. "Yes," lie answered, very slow. "In . . . the diplomatic service." "On the ground that if . . . anything . . . ever hapi)ened to yon—" Sacha suggested, her hand now trembling so much that she hardly even pretended to paint at her j)icture. "Precisely. The diplomatic service, we know, is very exacting. One takes one's life in one's hand. And if anything . . . ever happened to me, what would one say to lone?" Sacha's breath came and went. But she still pretended to paint. "Owen," she said, slowly, touching each hair with a dry brush and looking mechanically at the child, "I've often thought of all that. And ever since I've seen };ow m.iich lone and you were taken with one another — why, I've thought of nothing else. It's given me, toD, a sleepless night. It would bo terrible, terrible." "Then j'ou guess a//?"" Owen asked. Sacha bowed her wise head. "Yes, all, I think Everything. And it has troubled me much- jven for your sake, Owen." "How do you mean?" he asked once more. ■t: f, If' 234 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. She looked arrofw jvt him tenderly, •'It's hard to give up one's brother," she said, faltering, "even for a great and a holy and a righteous cause, Owen." "1 suppoHo HO," Owen answerwl. "Though till now I novor thought of it. And even now it's never of myself I think, of course. I'm too much of a Russian for tluit, I hope. It's of lone on the one hand — and on the other, of Mr. Hay ward." "It would kill him," Sacha said, clinching her liaud as she spoke. " If I refused to shoo — to go into the diplomatic servicoV" Owen ''Oi-iected himself (piickly. "But I'd never dream of that, Sacha. It would bo wicked, unnatural." "I'm not so sure as to its wickedness," Sacha replied, very white. "Why, Sacha, you know I owe him every- thing!" Sacha touched a hair or two with real paint. "If I were you," she said, with decision, "I'd talk it all over — with the person most concerned. " "Who? Mr. Hay ward!" "Mr. Hay ward! No, no, my dear boy ! lone, lone." Owen drew back, all alarmed. "But . . . I'd have to tell her everything," he said. "She knows everything already." "How can you tell?" "I feel sure of it. And she said so to you yesterday. I could see it in her face. Talk it ':i'J&:i riy. ther, ' ' sho said, 1 a holy and a rwl. "Tliough And oven now Mirso, I'm too je. It'soflono other, of Mr. said, clinching I the diplomatic '(luickly. "But . It would bo x^4 INDKR HEALKD OKI'RKH. ^35 ovor with licr tirst, and then j?o and liavo it out with y\v. liuywanl afttTWiird."' Owen h('HiUitt!(l. In the night ho had said to himst'lf H tliousniid times ho must never, never, never woe lone again. And now, at the first shot, he was abandoning tiie citadel. "Where is she?" he asked, ralteritig. Alas for tile stuff a Nihilist should be made of I "In tlie kitchen, no d )ubt, " Saclui answered. "fJoout Ihero iind call her." And Ovven, all on fire, feeling a conwionsnoss of wild guilt, yet a burning delight that he might speak to lone, went out and called her. ednosfl," Sacha we him every- th real paint. 1 decision, "I'd ost concerned." 3ar boy ! lone, r everything," said so to you face. Talk it mmm mmmm 986 UMUBR SEALED ORDEB8. CHAPTER XXV. AN AWFUL SUaOEHTION. loNE, in hor kitobea cowtume, wiiH leaning ovei the fire preparing the soup for lunch, lis Owen entered. Hho looked up at him by the doorway with those merry laughing oyos of hers. "Do you know," she said, pointing her remark with an impatient wave of lier iron spoon, "this pic- nicking sort of life'n 'I very well for the East, or anywhere else yo' ose to try it out of En- gland, but now the ..^.elty's begun to wear off a bit, I'm g(>tting to believe it doesn't go down in London. Even with Our Boys to helj) us, I really feel before long— it's a confession of fail- ure, I know, but — wo must engage a kitchen maid." "You think so?" Owen answered, without paying much heed to her words. "That seems rather like rounding upon one's principles, doesn't it? Putting your hand to the plow and then looking back again." lone tasted the soup from her big spoon with a very ci'itical air and pouted her lips prettily. "Well, there's a deal of backsliding about us all, I fancy," she said, with easy insouciance, * , - *i' - 08. )N. iH leaning ovei Linch, (18 Owen ly the doorway of hore. "Do tr remark with oou, "this pic- for the East, or it out of En- :un to wear off )eHn't go down '8 to helj) us, I fession of fail- ago a kitchen rered, without "That seems o's principles, to the plow big spoon with >r lips prettily, iding about us jr insouciance, UNDKU l^r, VI,KI) (»IM>KH«. i'M pulling lit'r kitt'hun apr m ntraight — and how diiiijty sht' lof)k»!d in it! "Von cim't livo iijt to anything worth culling priiu-iplcH ia thi; world nH it Htaiids. The world'H too strong for you. liidividiiulism's all very well in its Wiiy, of courrto; hut society won't H'vallow it. It inn't orgnni/A'd that vvi.>, }'»'d v/o nuint give in u> the orgiiiiization." "You moan it HBriouHlyV" Owen asked, now much iiitorosted by the cuvious way hor obsoi-va- tionH ciinie pat with liin own thoughts. "You begin to believe in backrtliding?" lone took down a dredging box from the dr(;Hser hard by, and pronoodod to flour the lf)in of lamb on the table beside her. "Well, partly I do, perhaps," she said. "And partly I'm still of the same old opinion. You see the point's this; you can't dissever yourself altf)gether from the social environment, as Blackbird calls it; you've ^ot, whether you like it or not, to live your life in our own century. It's didl, but it's inevitable. Now, wiien we first came here, Sacha and I'd got tired of the provincialism of living always in the nineteenth century and we tried all by ourselves to inaugurate the twen- tieth, or the twenty-first, or something. But somehow, it doesn't seem quite to answer. The rest of the world still sticks to its own age most provokingly in spite of us. So there comes the difficulty. Of course, if everybody else did ex- actly as wo do, there'd be nothing odd in my running to oj)en the door with my sleeves tucked up and my fingers all floury; or in Blackbird's .>n^-' *!*'- «''J» >"' k. ...maimmtmgtimmiiiM 238 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. ^' Pi- being discovered with a dustpau in hor hand, down on her knees on the floor sweeping the dmwing-room carpet. But the bother of it all is, us things stand at present, we've got to run both conotTus side by side, as it were — we've got to be servants at home, and ladies in society." "It'»a tax, no doubt," Owon answered, put- ting off the evil hour. "You'd like to be free this morning. Can't I help you at all, lone?" lone looked up at him with a merry twinkle in her eye. "Not in that nice black cutaway coat," she replied, holding out her floury hands toward him, and pretending to make clutches at his im- peccable sleeves, "unless you want the evidences of your guilt to be patent to every observer. Tliey'll say, if you do, you've been flirting with the scullery-maid." And she made just a tiny (lab of flour on his cuff l)y Avay of solemn warn- ing. "You see, there it is again," she went on, bustling about the kitchen as she spoke — with Owen's admiring glance following her round at every turn as an iron filing follows a powerful magnet. "That's the crux of the situation. You can't help in a kitchen, and yet wear the ordinary black clothes of London respectability. Even Our Boys, whoso frock coats are the mirror of fashion of an afternoon in th Park, put on long liollaud smocks in the early morning when they come to crack the coals and light the kitchen fire for us." "I suppose you're right," Owen assented, sigh- ing. "It's hard to have to live by two standards at onoe. Hard to move in one world, and be- ,v ^ftfiflT imi IT MrimJiit. .'nfin'i'iiaa'I.Vi SRS. lU in hor hand, r sweeping the )ther of it all is, got to run both 3 — we've got to n society." answered, put- like to be free at all, lone?" leriy twinkle in cutaway coat, " y hands toward tches at his im- it the evidences ?very observer. .m flirting with lade just a tiny f solemn warn- , " she went on, tie spoke — with ig her round at iws a powerful the situation, d yet wear the respectability, i are the mirror a Park, put on morning when ight the kitchen I assented, sigh- y two standards world, and be- " . ' , * -: !'S R.-'! '' > '* ' ^"'* ' ■'■ " ' -" *'' ^ ' ! ' ■'* ^'* ^" " '» "" '* ^ ; UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 239 long by nature and sentiment fmd opinion to another." "That's just what you're trying to do," lone cried abruptly, pouncing upon him with ji saucepan. Owen ));uised and reflected. "I suppose it is," he said jKUsivoly. lone went oi. washing out the enameled inside with vigorous dabs and scourings. "Why, of course it is," she continuetl with much spirit. "You eveu more than most of us. Almost everybody worth si)eaking of nowadays lives in one age and feels with another — some of us in front of cur own, and some of us behind it. But yon trj^ to do more than that. You want to diivo four systems abreast. For you'd like to live in two ages and belong to two countries — England and Russia— our century and the next — that's the long and the short of it." "I never told you so," Owen cried, turning pale. He loved to take refuge in that saving clause. At least it could never be said he'd be- trayed Mr. Hayward. "If women only found out what they're told, my dear boy, they wouldn't know much," lone responded cheerfully, giving another twirl to the cloth inside the shining saucepan. "But seri- ously, you can't go on living this double lifn for always. It's not human nature. I lay awake a good bit last night, Owcmi" — her voice grew graver and softer. "And I thought a great deal about it." Owen's heart leaped up once more at those .1 V'? -.i'^??- ■»?,■■ >H^i^m^ .f-^' --«^v 240 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. words. In spite of the iiour and the saucepan, he seized lone's hand hard. "You hij' awake in the night and thought ahout me, darling?" he cried, overjoyed. "You really lay awake and thought ab:)ut me?" lone nodded and smiled. "Why, of course, I thought about you, you goose," she answered. "Wliat do you think girls are made of? Do you suppose . . . after what happened yester- day ... I was likely to fall asleep the very first moment I laid my head on my pillow?" She looked at him so bewitchingly, with those soft round cheeks so shamefacedly red in modest surprise at their own unwonted boldness, that Owen couldn't help leaning forward and— just kissing her as she stood there. It was a bad be- ginning for a philasophical debate on the ethics of nihilism. lone took the kiss sedately, as though it were but her due; yet she motioned him away with her hand all the same, as who should observe, "That wsis all very nice in its way, no doubt ; lout no more of the same sort at present, thank yau." Then she turned to him suddenly, in a tumult of emotions, and nestled her tlnffy head on his shoulder for very shame. *'()h, Owen, darling," she cried with a burst, "think about you? Think ;. bout you? Why, I lay aAvake all night long, and thought of nothing else but you— you, j-ou, j-ou— till it was light again this morning." Owen ran his fingc-s tenderly through that crisp loose hair of hers. Russia, the Cause? what were //. Hjw can I love a woman, y engagements ?" lone asked, DNnKR SKALEI) ORDERS. 243 growing suddenly grave and pale, for she real- ized now to the fidl what those terrible words meant. "You mean to — to blow up the Czar, and be shot or hanged or tortured to deatii for it?" Owen paused and reflected. "I mean to fulfill whatever engagements I've made with Mr. Hay- ward," he answered slowly and ruefully. "And therefore — I've dono wrong in permitting myself ever to love j'ou." lone let herself drop on a wooden kitchen chair, and laid her head in her arms on the rough deal table. For a moment, she had given way, and was crying silently. Owen let her go on, just soothing her head with his hand for srime min- utes without speaking. At the end of that time, she looked up, and began again quite calmly. The womanish fit was over. Her tears had quieted her, "You're going quite wrong," she said with a firmness and common sense beyond her years. "You're letting a false sentiment of consistency lead you utterly astray. You're sac- rificing your life— and mine— to a mistaken idea of honor and gratitude." "If only you knew Mr. Ha-ward, lone," Owen put in with a deprecating gesture. "If only I knew Mr. Hay ward— I should say exactly what I say this minute," lone answered, fervently. "Look here at it, Owen! This is just how things stand. You're an Englishman born as much as anj-body. You had a Russian father — well, and I had ti Greek one. It pleases us both to pretend we're Russian and Greek, and VI iV,!di**."«^/ If 244 UNDE t SEALED ORDERS. IB 'f 80, no doubt, iu iuhorited tendencies and disposi- tions we are; but for all practical purposes, we're pure English for all t'i.t. You're just a t«ll, well-made, handsome, athletic young English- man. You care a great deal more, in your heart of hearts, nbout a two-mile race than about the wrongs of Russia — though even to yourself, of course, you wouldn't like to acknowledge it, That drer .^^\ Nihilist man— I admit he's very clever, very dignified, very grave, very earnest, and he knows your character thoroughly — but that dreadful Nihilist man has got hold of you, and calked you over to his ideas, and stuffed your inflammable Russian head — foj- your head at least is Russian — chock full of his bombs and his dynamite and his enthusiasms, till not even your wholesome English legs and arms will carry you away out of reach of him intellectually. But you know very well it's all a factitious feel- ing with you. . . . Mr. Hayward's at the bottom of it. If Mr. Hayward were to die to-morrow, you'd nevar want to do anything at all for Russia." "I hope I would!" Owen cried devoutly. For was it not his religion? "But so much, do you think?" lone asked with a quick thrust, following up her advantage. Owen hesitated. "Well . . . not quite so much, perhaps," he faltered out after a mo- ment's reflection. "No, of course not!" lone continued in a tone of feminine triumph. She was woman all over, which is another way of saying her transitions ujii. as. es and dispoai- )urpo8e9, we're re just a tall, 3ung English- , in your heart than about the to yourself, of knowledge it, Imit he's very , very earnest, oroughly — but )t hold of you, s, and stuped -foj' your head his bombs and 3, till not even irms will carry intellectually, factitious feel- 's at the bottom die to-morrow, ing at all for devoutly. For " lone asked her advantage, not quite so t after a mo- inued in a tone ^oman all over, her transitions UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 245 of emotion were intensely rapid. "Would you blow up the Czar, for example, all on your own account? Would you lay a plot to explode him? I, for one, don't for a moment believe it." "Probal)ly not," Owen admitted, after another short pause of internal struggle. Somehow, loiw compelled him to tell ihe truth, and to search out his inmost and most persoL^al feelings, in inat- tord which he had long given over himself to Mr. Hay ward's supreme direction. "No, I knew you v/ouldn'ti" lone echoed, looking across at him and drying her tears. "It's only your father confessor *UaL drives you to these extremities. You've giver, him your conscience to keep, and you ne^er so luuch as take it out to have a look at h j'ourself. But you're a man, Owen, now, and your manhood compels you to reconstruct your fait'n. TLa question is, do you or do yju not believe in this movement so much that you're prepared to sacri- fice 3'ourown life and sti'ength — and me into the bargain — to Mr. Hayward's f^chemes and Mr. Hay ward's principles?" She spoke it out plainly Owen could not choose but listen. It was treason, he knew — high treason to the Cuuse, a jd yet after all very rational treason. Thare vvas plain common sense in every word lone said. Why accept, offband, Mr. ; layward's system of things as an infalli- ble guide to moral conduct in a world where so many conflicting opinions bear sway alter- natively? Was Mr. Hayward the Pope? Was Bond Street a new Vatican? '■■'M 4 246 UNDKR REALED OKDER8. But Mr. Hay ward's money! And Mr. Hay- ward's kindiu^s! Must ho be ungrateful and bjiBC, and betray his tyroat benofactor, all for the Bake of that prime stumbling-block of our kind, a woman? CHAPTER XXVI. THE CHISIS COMES. When you're in doubt whether you ought, as a matter of conscience, to marry a particular woman ornot, I've always observed it's a dan- gerous practice— from the point of view of impar- tial decision—to take the doubt to that woman herself for solution. For either alio cordially agrees with you, and, after manj- tears, indorses your scruples; in which case, of course, chivalry, pity, and a certain masculine in(;U0 compel you to fling j'our arms round her in a passion of re- morse and swear in spite of everything she must and shall be yours— and hang conscience. Or else she uiffers from you, and dispels your flimsy doubts; in which case, naturally, there's nothing on earth left for a man to do but agree with her and marry her. So that, let thing? turn as they will, your woman wins either way. Now this was precisely the dilemma for which R8. itid Mr. Hay- ingratefiil and •tor, all for the k of our kind, you ought, as y a particular ■v-ed it's a dan- view of impar- to that woman auo cordially tears, indorses mrse, chivalry, ;U0 compel you A passion of re- 'thing she must ;onseience. Or lels your flimsy there's nothing agree with her ,g3 turn as they )mma for which UNDER SEALRD ORDERS. 247 poor guileless Owen hnd let himself in. All that autunu) through, of course, he continued to argue with himself that 'twould bo a grievous wrong in him to disappoint Mr. Hayward. Yet the ni,)ro ho argued it, the more possihlo snch backsliding Koemed to grow with each day. i)o- ])ond upon it, there's nothing for weakening the hold of virtue on the mind like the constant (lett;r- mination that in spite of everything you will be virtuous. The oftouer you declare to yourself you will never, never do so-and-so, the more natural and thinkable does the so-and-so become to you. And thus it was with Owen Cazalet. By Christmas time, indeed, he had all but made up his mind that sooner or later he might have to toll Mr. Hayward his faith in the Cause was growing distinctly feebler. As for lone, she aided him greatly, whenever he saw her, in this terrible resolve — for to him, it ■iras terrible. She never missed an opportunity of pointing out to him over and ovor again that his zeal for Russia was after all entirely artificial — a delicate exotic, reared and nursed with diffi- culty on rough English soil, and ready to fi>de at the first chilly frost of our damp western winter. "You'd never have arrived at those ideas, at aU, all of yourself, you know," she said to him more than once. "They're nothing but mere reflec- tions of Mr. Hay ward's enthusiasm. It's natural enough in him, no douot; he's a Russian — to the core, to the manner born and he's seen how the thing works in actual ■<■ ractice. Perhaps he's been proscribed, hunted dorvn, ruined, exiled to 248 UXI>EK 8KAI,Kn ()Rr>KK8. Siberia. Ho may Imvtt run nvvay frr)m the miiioH, or esrivpoil from priHon. I don't owe him litiy jyral sentiments. /.v it nuudor to shoot a Czar'r Or should wo ratber deem it a noble act of self-sacrifice for hu- manity's snke? God knows; I don't; and, with tho fear of the Lord Chief Justice for ever before my eyes, I refuse to discuss tho question — at least in public. These matters, I hold, are best debated in caiiieru; 1 may even venture to say /a camcni obscura. Poor Herr Most got twelve motjths for deciding the abstract point at issnd iu tho second of tho two senses above considered. Twelve months in jail, my medical authority as- sures mo, would be bad for one's health. And it would deprive one of tho society of one's friends and family. But to Owen, loss well brought up, the strug- gle was a painful ono. He had boon taught to regard Mr. Hayward's opinion as the ultimate court of appeal in all questions of ethics. No Jo.suit was ever more successful in the training of his uoophyt'3S than Ruric BrassoflF had been with Owen Tiizalet's conscience. Whether it be right or wrong to kill one man for the good of the people, Owen at least was (juite as firmly ' l^^i.' aso UKPKIl HKAT.KP OKDRRS. ' convincod by his whole onrly tniinin}? it wiiw Iuh boundon duty to shoot ii vznr, w\u'\wxor founil, jw hi' wiiH firmly rouviiioed it was wholly iind uttorly indi'fcnsibU' tc^ Hlioot a fjroUHo or a phoas- nnt. Ho had bcoti instructed by thoHt> whom ho moHt rovored and roHpoctod that to tiiko lifo in Hport. bo it man's or In-ast'sor bird'H, be it Zidu's or Turcoman's, is a deadly sin; but that to take life for th« protection of lite and liln^rty, be it a scorpion's or a wolf's, be it a czar's or a tiger's, is a plain and indubitable moral duty. No won- der, then, he clung hard to this original teaching, which sup|iorted for his soul the whole superim- posed I'ubi-ic of ingrained morality. By Christmas, however, as I said befure, his mood had begun to weaken. Ho wasn't (juite as firm in the Nihilist faith as formerly. Still be- lieving without doubt in the abstract principle tliat czars should bt> -ihot down, on every possible occasion, like noxious reptiles, he was a trifle less clear in his own mind than of old that he was the particular person specially called tipon by na- ture and humanity to do it. A rattlesnake should be killed, no doul>t, by whoso comes across him —say in South Carolina; but are you therefore bound to take ship to Charleston on purpose to find him? Must you go out of your way, so to speak, to look for your rattlesnakes? Yes; if you've been paid for it, brought up for '^". it, trained for it. Yes; if the path of duty lies clear that way. Yes; if you've engaged your- self by solemn contract to do it. "But you were a minor at the time!" objects /.ftj^*'*'« VNDKR HEALED OKDiCUS. 261 iiijjf it wiiK luK •tK'Vcr fouml, rt wholly unii iHo or H phoiiH- liow^ whom ho ) tiiko lifi> in H, ho it Zulu'rt it thut to tako l)orty, he it a 'h or H tigor'a, ity. No uon- ;inal teat hiiig, rhole Huporiin- \u\ hefure, hin irasn't quite an irly. Still ho- tract principlo overy possihlo rns a trifle less Id that he was ad upon hy nu- lesnake should lea across him you therefore on purpose to oiir way, so to as? hrought up for th of duty lies engaged j'our- time!" objects lone; "yi-n didn't know y.nu- own mind. Now you'vo cnnio lo num's OHtuto, you think it over at your loisiuo, and ropudiaU) tho obliga- tion. " All, yoM; biif how return — not the m'>n(\v alone, but tlu^JiiiuH, the furu, tIiol<)\ing iiitcn-Hl';' That was what bothered Ovvon huav. Th(» blui-k in- gratitudes tho cnudty; above all, how break his change of mind to ?dr. irayward? From that ordeal, ho shrank horribly. Yet sooner or later, he fidt in his s«>ul, it must come. Ho began to seo that clearly now. Ho had passed all the Foreign Office examinations >v'ith credit, and had further been excused his two years of rosi- donco ftbrond, as his knowledge of coUoipiial French was pronounced to be simply perfect ; and ho was only waiting at present to receive his ap- pointment. But how live in this hateful state? It shamed him to take another pennj' of Mr. Hay- ward's money. Early in January, however, an event occurred which compelled him to hasten his decision one way or the other. It was a foggy da^' in town. Black mist veiled all London. The lamjjs burned yellow. Car- riages crawled slowly through melting slush in Bond Street. The frost had paralyzed traiiic along tho main thoroughfares. And the practice of photography was suspended for the moment by thick gloom that might be felt in Mortimer & Co.'s studio. As they lounged and bored themselves, a lady came to the door, who asked to see Mr. Hay ward. .,Al ""\%r« L-i^^;-'-*: SWI ■J"!iH ? !" " . :. t 252 UNDER SEAIXD ORDERS. ) " t I > She was a lady of a cRrtF.iu age, and of a certain girth, too, but still hanusome and buxom with ripe matronly beauty. Tne young woman with tlio toozley hair in the shop downstairs iiassed har up languidly to the office. Tlie yor.ng man in the office twirling his callow mudtache, remem- bered to have seen her befor.-. and to have sent home her photographs to a private room at the Metropole. It was difficult, indeed, for any one to forget those great magnetic eyes. Madame Mireff, lie recollected ; the famous unaccredited Russian agent. So he showed her up to the Sanc- tum with much awed respect; was she not known to lie some Great One, acquainted with peers nor unfamiliar with royalties? Mr. Hayward tot at the desk, writing letters or making notes, as Madame Mireff entered. He rose to receive her with that stately civility of his younger rrjurt life which twenty yeaiM of English shopkeeping had never yet got rid of. Slie took his hand with warmth. But his very manner as ho motioned her gracefully to the big easy chair warned madame at once of the footing on which they were to stand in their interview to-day. No more of Rusic Brassoff or of incrim- inating disclosures. She was a lady of rank ; he was plain Mortimer, now, the Bond Street pho- tographer. "Good morning, madame," ho said in French, leaning carelessly forwai'd to scan her face close- iy. "How well you're locking. And how gay —how lively. That's lucky for me. I can see by the smile on your face, by this air of general as. UNDER 8EALED ORDERS. 253 ill! of a certain \ buxom with g vvonuin with airs passed lier ^-or.iig man ia itache, reniem- ul to have sent ite room at the ?d, for any one yes. Madame s unaccredited up to the Sauc- she not known with peers nor writing letters Vlireff entered, stately civility ;wenty yeai •< of yet got rid of. But his very fully to the big e of the footing their interview )ff or of incrim- idy of rank; he )nd Street pho- said in French, I her face close- And how gay me. I can see s air of general content, by this happy expression, you've suc- ceeded in your object, ' Olga Mireff looked radiant indeed. "Yes," she answered with conscious pride; "I've been able to do something at last for our CDUimou coun- try- — " But she faltered as she spoke, for Mr. Hay ward frowned. "I mean, that is to say . . . for your young friend," she added hastily, cor- recting herself, with th.'it deep blush on her rounded cheeks that so well 1)ecame her. "Bett, r so," Mr. Hay ward replied, in a low voice. Better so, Madame Mireff. You know my rule : Minimize the adverse chances. One compromising interview is more than enough already. To-day — we are official." Madame blushed f .nd looked down again. The presence of the great man made that woman nervous, who never quailed in society before wit or rank or irony or statesmanship. She fumbled her muff awkwardly. "I've mentioned your young friend's name to Sir Arthur Beaumont, who knows his family," she said stammering, "and to Lord Caistor, and others; and I've brought pre.osure to bear upon him from his own side of the House, and, what's better at this junc- ture, from the Irish members. You know ce cher O'Flanagan — he's my devoted slave ; I put the screw oii Fortunately, too, young Mr. Oazalet had falleri in with one or two of the Patriots, and impressed tlietn favorably as a friend and champion <^ oppres.sed as nettled now. Here's .:! <«MH l>i 264 UNDER SEALED OKDBR8. T what Lard Caistor writois." Ami she held out in oi^o pluiui) hand the Foreign Secretary's letter. Mr. Hay ward took it and read : — "Dear Madame Mikeff— It Hurprises me to learn you shi.aiUl think Her Majesty's aovernmout could he influenced by motiveH such as these you allude to in making or withholding diplomatic appointments. Xothiug but cunsideratious ot personal litness and educational merit -ver weigh with us at all in our careful selection of publio servants. I am aovvy to say, therefore, I must decline, even in my private capacity, to hold any communication with you on s j official a subject. I am not even aware mytJelf what selection may bo made for tliia vacant podt—the matter lies mainly with my Under Secretary— nor would I allow Sir Arthur Beaumoiit to mention to me your pro- tege's name, lest I should be prejudiced against him; but you will find the announcement of tbo fortunate candidate in the Gazette at an early date. Regretting that I am unable to serve yi^u in this matter, I remain, as ever, with the pro foundest respect, "Yours very sinctroly, "Caistor." Mr. Hayward put the letter down with a deep sigh of relief. "Then he's got the honorary at- tacheship at Vienna!" he said, almost gasping "Nowhere else could be better 1 It's splendid I Splendid!" «.ia.-^ s. T she held out u Secretary's iii'prises me to 'sGovornmout h as these you ug diplomatic sideratious ot srit "ver weigh tiou of publi(j ;re£oro, I must ty, to hold any h1 a subject. I lection may bo ter lies mainly ivould I allow ;o me your pio- iidiced agairi.st [icement of tlie tte at an early lie to serve you , with the pro- ly, "Caistor." wn with a deei> le honorary at- Imost gasping It's splendid! UNDER. SEALED ORDERS. 255 For those two knew well how to read and speak the diplomatic dialect. Tears stood in the Chief's eyes. He brushed them away ha.stily. Tears stood in Madame "Mireff's. She let them roll down her cheek. "Have I done well?" she faltered timidly, ^ nd Ruric Brassoff, seizing her hand, and preivoing it hard in both his own, murmured in ansver, "You have done well. You have de- served much of humanity." Thorfi v?as a moment's pause. Then madame rose Skll^ stood irresolute. Short shrift is the best rule in revolutionary affairs. She held out one trembling hand. "That's all?" she said regret- fully, half i< aging to stop, half fearing to ask for respite. And Mr. Hayward, inexorable, taking the proffered hand, answered in his mechanical busi- ness voice once more, "That's all. No further now. I shall write to Owen to-day. . . . He'll need two huudi-ed pounds at once, of coui"se, to enable him to take up so important an appoint- ment." "You would . . . permit me to supply it?" madame \ ■ ^ured to ask timidly The Chiet 'ok his head and smiled. "Keep your money," he answered, in a cold tone of com- mand. "I have no neeti for it now. Funds are plentiful at present. You oflFer too freely, ma- dame. When I require aught from any of you, rest assured, I shall ask Ijv it." He rose and motioned her out with princely dignity. For a secood he held the door ajar, and 'Mf ^^dff-^^ »* '^ >' ' #^ ie. .■ ^ :a . ,4ia? 966 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. spoke in English audibly, as he bowed dismissal. •'I regret very mucli," he said, "we should have misuuderstoiKl your instructions. No more of the platinotypes shall be exposed for sale till we've altered the inscription. I apologize for our mistake. We'll withdraw them altogether, in fact, if you think them in any respect un- worthy our reputation. " T ,'pd dismissal. 9 should have No more of for sale till apologize for tn altogether, y respect un- UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 367 CHAPTER XXVII. ■ OWEN T)EBATES. At Moor Hill, next morning, Owen was busy at his favorite winter pastime of boxing a stuffed sack suspended from a beam, when the postman entered. His room overlooked the garden gate, and his imaginary opponent dangled sidewise to the light not far from the window ; so he com- manded the situation, even while busily engaged in his punching and pummeling. As a man of peace, indeed, Owen disapproved of boxing, ex- cept with gloves and muffle ; but from the point of view of pure exercise, he delighted in the muscular play of it, and was an expert in the art, as in so many other branches nf athletic practice. He had just dealt his swinging an- tagonist a vigorous blow between the eyes, winch sent him reeling into space, when he caught sight from afar of a certain square blue envelope in the postman's hand, of a most familiar pattern. He knew it at a glance. It was the business envelope of Mortimer & Co., photographers, in Bond Street. In a tumult of expectancy he rushed down to the door, in jersey and drawers as he stood, his 'dt&^M&-:k mm fP:: t» - 2fiS UNDEK SEALED ORDERS. strong arms all sleeveless, and his brawny neck all bare, to Aunt Julia's infinite horror, on grounds alike of health and of mode.sty — "You'll catch your death of cold one of these fine winter days going to the door like that in bitter frosty weather!" He took the note from the postman's hands, and tore it open hurriedly. Yet so deeply was respect for Mr. Hayward ingrained in the young man's nature that ho laid the more en- velope down on the table with reverent care, in- stead of tossing it into the fire at once as was his invariable wont with less sacred communications. As he read it, however, his face flushed hot, and his heart fluttered violently. Oh ! what on earth should he do now? A bolt from the blue had fallen. He stood face to face with his grand dilemma at last. He must cast his die once for all. He must cross — or refuse to cross — his dreaded Rubicon. "My dear Owex," Mr. Hayward wrote, "I have good news for you to-day, after long, long waiting. An influential friend of mine (one of our own, and most faithful) has just informed me your appointment's as good as made — the at- tacheship at Vienna. It'll be gazetted at once — so Lord Caistor implies— and probably by the same post with this you'll receive the official an- nouncement. Come up to town direct, as soon as ever it reaches you, and bring the Foreign Office letter along in your pocket. I've placed two hundred pounds to your credit at once at Drummond, Coutts & Barclay's, and have asked mm IS. 1 brawny neck te horrt)r, on osty— "You'll 380 fiuo winter a bitter frosty the postman's Yet so deeply grained in the I the more eii- erent care, in- nce as was his ninunications. ishod hot, and what on earth the bhie had ith his grand his die once ise to cross — rard wrote, "I fter long, long f mine (one of just informed made — the at- izetted at once robably by the the official an- direct, as soon g the Foreign ;. I've placed adit at once at md have asked UNDER 8BAl,ED ORDEB8. 259 them at the same time to let you have a check- book. But I must take you round iHieve when you rtm up, to introduce you to the firm, and to let them see your signature. For the rest, attaches, as you know, get nothin^ at all in the way of salary for the first two years ; so you must look to me for an allowance, which I need hardly say will be as liberal as necessary. I can trust you too well to fear any needless extravagance on your part : on the contrary, what I dread most is too conscientious an economy. This you must try to avoid. Live like others of your class; dress well; spend freely. Remember, in high posts, much is expected of you. But all this will keep till we meet. On your account, I'm overjoyed. Kindest regards ti) Mies Cazalet. "Yonr affectionate guardian, "Lambekt Hayward." This letter drove Owon half frantic with re- morse. "Good news for you to-day" — "over- joyed on your account" — abivo all, "in high posts, much is expected of you." The double meaning in that phrase stung his conscience like a snake. Mnch was expected, no doubt; oh, how little would be accomplished ! "May I look?" Aunt Julia asked, seeing him lay the note down, with a face of abject despair. And Owen, in his lonely wretchedness, an- swered: "Yes, yon may look at it." It was intended for the public eye, he felt sure — an offi- cial communication — else why that uncalled-for "Kindest regards to Miss Cazalet"? 4i^fesiS^«ifr'jfe«^«''--^«i>^^'-»'«»^iW^:'*^ S60 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. Aunt Julia read it over with tbo profoundost disHpprobatiun. "Vioanal" hIio cried, with » t'rowu. "That's 80 far off! So unhealthy I Ami in a Catholic State, too! And they say, aociety's Iooho, and the temptations terrible. Not at all the wort of court / should have liked ytni to mix with. If it had been Berlin, now, Owen, espocually in the dear good old Emperor's daj-.s — ho Ava» such a true Christian I" And Aunt Julia heaved a sigh. Vienna, indeed! Vienna! That wicked great tovvn ! She remembered Prince Rudolph. "It's awfully sudden," Owen gasped out. Wonder seized Aunt Julia. Though not very dee)), she was woman enough to read in his pal- lid face the fact that he was not delighted. That discoverj- emboldened her to say a word or two more. A word in season, how good it is! "And that certainly isn't the way a person of mature j-eai-s ought to write to a young man," she went on, severely. "Just look at this : ' Live like others of your class ; dress well ; spend free- ly. ' Is that the sort of ddvice a middle-aged man should offer his ward on his entrance into life? 'Dress well; spend freely.^ Disgraceful! Dis- gracef 111 I I' ve always distrusted Mr. Hay ward's principles." "Mr. Hay ward understands character," Owen answered, bridling up. As usual. Aunt Julia had defeated her own end. Opposition to his idol roused at once the rebellious Russian ele- ment in her nephew's soul. And, besides, he knew the compliment was well deserved, that too ;s. profoimdost wu. "That's in a CHtholio y's looHO, tmd all the Hort of mix with. If [)e{ually in the 10 Avas Huch a Ha Iveavod a That wicked Ince Rudolph, asped out. ough not very ?ad in his pal- ighted. That 1 word or two od it is ! ay a person of young man," at this : ' Live 1 ; spend free- ddle-aged man ance into life? graceful ! Dis- Mr. Hayward's racter," Owen il, Aunt Julia position to his 3 Russian ele- nd, besides, he served, that too UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 261 conscientious econojny was tho sturahliug- block in his caw. "I shall go up to town at once, I think, witliout waiting to get the official Jotter." "Mr. Hay ward won't liko that,'' Aunt Julia put in, coming now to the aid of what was, after all, duly constituted autliority. Owen was too honest to take refuge in a sub- terfuge. "I didn't say I'd go to Mr. Hayward," he answered. "There are more jwople than one in London, I believe. I said, to Loudon." ' ' Whore will you go, then ? " Aunt Julia asked, marveling. And Owen answerd, with transparent evasive- ness : "Why, to Sacha'.s, naturally." On the way up, the last struggle within him went on uninterrupted. They were front to front now ; love and duty tooth and nail . He grew hot in the face with the brunt of the combat. Tliere was no delaying any longer. He couldn't accept Mr. Hayward's two hundred pounds ; he couldn't take up the diplomatic appointment; he couldn't go to Vienna. Black ingratitude as it might seem, he must throw it all up. He must tell Mr. Hay- ward point-blank to his face it was impossible for him now and henceforth to touch one penny more of Nihilist money. Owen had doubts in his own mind, indeed, if it came to that, now, as to the abstract rightful- ness of political assassination. Time works won- ders. Love is a great political teacher. As fer- i&Mm •iyf w t> ft SO-i UNDER SEAliEI) ORDERS. r vciitly UuHsiim mid us fcrvoiitly rovolutionaiy iu cunviclii/ii us »'ver, ho whh yet lM'Kii>iiiiig lo believe in tHluciiting czarH out iu«ti>udof oiiuteriz- ing tlioni with ilyruunito. It was u (luestion of inetliod ahine, to ha sure, imt of ultiiiiat« ohjoct — still, method is SDinothing. N'ot only must tht> wiHo man see his «!nd cleurly; ho muBt choose fiis means, too, with consumniato iuhiUmu'l}. And Tone's arj^nments had made Owon ilouht, even aj^aiust Mr. Hayward's suitieuiB authority, whether shootinf^ your czar u tia the hest pos- sihlo uiuans of utilizing; uiin for humanity. How much grrtiidor, iuiw much moit impressive it would he, for example, to convert him ! That was a splendid idea. What a vista's oixjuoil there! But Mr. Hayvs irdV His heart sank again. Mr. Ilayvvard wouldn't see it! Arrived at the flat otY A'ictoria Street, ho didn't even t?o through the formality of askinf? for Sacha. He flui ,;• himself, full face, into lono's ixims and cried out in the bitterness of his soul : "Oh, lone, lone, I've got my appointment!" lone took his ki.ss, and started back in dismay. Her face went very white. She didn't pretend to congratulate him. "Then the crisis has come?" she said, trem- bling. "You must decide— this morning?" Owen followed her blindly into the drawitig- room, and handed her the letter to read. She took it in, mechanically. Then she let her hand drop by her side, with the fatal paper held loose in it. rovuliitionury t Ix'^iiuiiug lo mi of niutonz- 1 II (lUL'StilMl of iltiiiiiite ohjoL't uiily must the lllBt cLooHo 11 is uiUmico. And I'M ilouI)t, t'veu lie uutliurity, tho best pos- UHuity. How impressive it irt liiiii ! That virtta's opouoil iH bofirt sank Heo it! rin Street, he ility of askinfif full face, into bitterueH.s of appointment!" ack in dismay, didn't protend she said, trem- novuing?" the drawiiig- ■ to read. She bo let her hand laper hekl loose r f UNDER SEALED OKDERH. 263 "And "7m/ will yon decide?" slw asked, cold at heart md sobldnj^ iiiwardfy, "What »inst I, Fmiio? ' Tho girl HhrH)k like a leaf in tho wind. "It's for you to Haj% Owen," she answered. '"Don't let /«« stand in your way — or Russia's, either. What am I tluit yi>u shouhl doubt? Why make me an obstacle? You may be secre- tary in time— envoy — minister— ombaHsador." "Or Russia's, either!" Owen repeated, mus- ing, and seizing her hand, more in doubt than in love, just to steady himself internally. "Oh, darling, I'd have thought it ti-eaaon oven to think so once. But — it's homble, it's wicked, it's in- human of me to say it — lone, for your sake, rather than cause your dear heart one moment's pain — I'd — I'd sacrifioe Russia." "It isn't inhuman," lone answered, flushing red in a sudden revulsion of feeling from despair to hope. "It's human, human, human — that's just what it is — it's human!" Owen held her hand tiglit. It seemed to give him strength. "Yes, Russia," he said, slowly ; "I could sacri- fice that; but Mr. Hay ward! Mr. Hay ward!" "Obey your own heart," lone answered; but she pressed his hand in return with just tho faint- est little pressure. "If it bids you do so — then sacrifice me by all means to Mr. Hayward." "lone!" He looked at her reproachfully. How could she frame such a sentence? Surely she knew it was duty — and oh 1 so hard to follow. r- * 864 UNDKR HRALKl* OIIDBF'" ' \\ lono flunix linrHt-lf upon hin nhouldor ntul burnt wildly 'uN) tciiiH. "Darling'." hIio cried, w.bWiuK low, "I don't wunt t;) iuHuunco you ii^Minnt your conrtcionco and your cimvictious; but. . . . But how can I givo you up to Bucli ii dreadful futuioV" Ovv(>u folt it waM all up. llt'f nnurt wound round him now. Could ho tenr hini8i>lf away from thorn nnd Bay in cold blood: "I will go to my di'atli, whm-o duty calls ninV" That was all very well for rouiiuico; but in real, real lifo Iouo'h tearful faco would havo haunted him for- ever. Very vaguely, too, he folt, as lono had said, that to yield was human. Ami what is most human iH most right; not Spartan virtue, but the plain dictator of our conuuon inhotited emotion. That in tho voice of Nature and of gold within us. ThoHO whom wo love and those who love ua are uoaror and dearer to us by far than Russia. Sunreme devotion to an abstract Cause is grand— in a fannti*-; but you must have the fanatic's temper; and fanatician\ roots ill in so alien a soil as tho six feet two of a sound En- glish athlete. He clasped her in his strong arms. Ho bout over her and kissed her. He dried hor bright eyes, all the brighter for tlieir tears. "lone," ho cried in decisive accents, "the bit- terness of death is past. I've made my mind up. I don't know how I'm over to face Mr. Hay ward; but, sooner or later, face lum I will. I'll toll him it's impossible." "Go now!" lone said, firmly. "Strike while the iron's hot, Owen!" V- ■ ■■<*■ •- ^" "■^a'fV',. ,.SWji|>^-\»!, -t^T'li'^'^^'i''^'^ '>'■*»*?' f i}m 'iyi>*y>( INDK.It HKALKI) OHDKRS. UH ildor and burf. It's too terril)lo to disilhHion him." lono stood up and faeod the faltorer bravely. "Vou oughtn't t) let him wait one mitiuto longer, tluMi," she said with eounige. "Unde- ceive him at oneo. It's riglit. Ii's manly." "You've tnuchod it!" Owon answered, driven to aetion by the last wonl. "If I've got to do it, 1 must do it now. Hifore tho api)ointmont'ti mado. I mustn't lot them gazette mo." lono drew back, in turn, half afraid. "But your fiitun>?" sheoried. "Your future? We ought to think about that. "What on earth will you do if you refuse this attatjlieship';'" Owen laughed a grim little laugh. "We ran't afford to stick now at trifles like thdf," ho said, bitterly. "If I'm to give uj) this post, T mu.st look out for myself. I'm cast high and dry— stranded." Ho glanced down at his big limbs. "But, anyhow," be added, with a cheerful revulsion, "I can [)reak stones against any man, or sweep a crossing." i «*'{* >:.^,bed it, as things stood that day, by a two- penny omnibus fare. Mr. Hayward met him at the door of the _ .lO- tographic sanctum, and grasped his hand warm- ly. The pressure went straight to Owen's heart like a knife. If only he had been cold to him? But this kindliness v.-as killing. "Well," the elder man said, beaming, and motioning his ward into a chair with that prince- ly wave of hifi. "They've been prompt about the announcement, then. You got the official note by the same post as my letter?" Owen's tongue misgave him. But he man- aged to falter out with some little difficulty, "No, it hasn't come yet, Mr, Hayward. I . . . I wanted to aufcipate it." ;s. ITS. I have taken a ng he walked t^ery penny he and the Nihi- course ; but h .> ; present. The round his neck would ho have day, by a two- oor of the _ .lO- lis hand warm- :o Owen's heart n cold to him ? beaming, and dth that princc- i prompt about got the official r?" But he mau- litlle difficulty, ay ward. I . . . UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 267 The chief's face fell. "That was not in my orders, Owen," he said, with inHoxible gravity. "What a sturabliug- block it is, this perijetual ovcrzoal! How often shall I still have to warn my most trusted subordinates that too much readiness is every bit as bad and as dangerous as too little?' "But that wasn't it, Mr. TIayvvard," Owen answered as w:ell as ho could. "I had a re at all into the diplomatic service." The shock had not yet como. Mr. Hay ward, gazing blankly at him, failed to take it all in. He only looked and looked, and shook his head slowly as in doubt for a minute. Then Iic ejai;- ulated "Afraidy" in very unemotional accents. The word roused Owen Cazalet's bitterest con- tempt. "Afraid!" he cried, Inndliug up, in spite of liis grief and remorse. "Afraid! Can you ■ think it?" And he glanced down iuvohmtarily at those fearless strong hands, "But I have doubts in my own mind — as t6 the rightfulness of the undertaking." Mr. Hayward looked through him, and beyond him, as he answered as in a dream. "Doubts — as to the desirability of exacting punishment upon the chief criminal?". "Doubts as to liow far I am justified — an En- .i^s. >» f 7 268 UNDER 8EAI.KT) ORDERS. T glishman to all iatouts and purposes, and a British subject — " ''In avenging? your father's death," Mr, Hay- ward cried,^ interrupting him, "your mother's madness, Owen Cazelet, your sister's exile! Sergius Selistoff, is that what you raeauy You turn your back now on the Cause, and on mar- tyred Russia V" His expression was si terrible, so j>ained, so injured— there was such a fir© in his eye, such a tremor in his voic^e, such an earnestness in his manner, that Owen, now face to face with that cherished and idolized teacher, and away from lone, folt his resolution totter, and his knees sink under him. For a moment he paused, then sud- denly he broke forth, this time in Russian. "Lambert Hayward," ho said, using the fa- miliar Russian freedom of the Christian name, "I must speak out. I mu.st explain to you. For weeks and weeks this crisis has been coming on, and my mind within me growing more and more divided. I'm a man, now, you see, and a man's thoughts rise up in me, and give me doubt and disturbance. Oh, for weeks, for your sake, I've dreaded this day. I' ve hated the bare idea. I've shrunk from teHing you. If it hadn't been for this special need*, I could never, I believe, have niiide up my mind to toll you. I wish I could have died first. But I can!t— I can't go int:> the diplomatic service." Mr. Hayward gaj^ed at him still, riveted in his revolving chair, with glassy eyes like a carpse, and white hands, and rigid features. The change .4 V* RS. UNDER SEALED ORDERS/ 269 rposes, and a th," Mr. Hay- yoiir mother's sister's exile ! u moan":' You ?, and on mar- », so paint-d, so his eye, such a nestncss in his faco with that ind away from I his knees sink used, then sud- Russian. I, iisin^ the fa- !;!hristian name, in to j'ou. For »een coming on, more and more ee, and a man's e me doubt and your sake, I've bare idea. I've hadn't been for I believe, have I wish I could an't go int:> the II, riveted in his 3s like a carpse, ■es. The change that was coming over him appalled rnd terrified Owen. He had expected a great shock, but noth- ing so visible, so physical as this, Mr. Hay ward nodded his head once or twice like an imbecile. Then with an effort ho answered in a very hol- low voice, "For my sake, you say only, for my sake, for ?/(/«e. But how about Russia? Holy, martyred Russia?" Owen folt, vvith a glow of shame, that in the heat of the moment, he had NvhoUy forgotten her. But he didn't wound his friend's feelings still more deeply than he need by admitting that fact. "I would do much for Russia," he said slowly, "very much for Russia." "You ought to," Mr. Hay ward interjected, raising one bloodless hand, and speaking in the voice of a dying man, "for you owe everything to her; your birlh, your blood, your fine brain, your great strength, your training, your educa- tion, your very existence in every way." "Yes, I would do much for Russia," Owen went on, picking his phrase with difficulty, and feeling his heart like a stone — for every word wtxs a death-knell to Mr. Hayward's hopes— "if I felt certain of my end, and of the fitness and suitability of my means for producing it. But I've begun to have doubts aljout this scheme for — for the jiunishment of tbe chief bureaucrat. I'm not so sure as I once was I should be justi- fied in firing at him." For a second the old light flashed in Mr. Hay- ward's eyes. "Not certain," he cried, raising" his voice to an imwonted pitch — but they were Mi •■f* m t _ KftMSI p ^ i& UKDER SEALED ORDERS. r BtiU speaking Russian— "not certaiu you would bo justified in striking a blow at the system that sent your father to the mines, and your mother to tlie madhouse! Not covtain you would be justilied in punishing the man who sits like an incubus at tlie head of an organized despotism whicli drives the dear ones whom we love to languish in the cells of its central prisons, and wrings the last drop of red heartblood daily from a miserable pevsantry! An Englishman, you say, and a British subject. How can you be happy here, in this land of oxile, while in the country where you werc^ born people are dymg of hunger by the hundred at a time because a czar snatches from them their last crust of bread, and confiscates the very husks under the name of taxes? Is it right? is it human? Owen Cazalet —Sergius Selisl )ff— you break my heart— I'm ashamed of you." Mr. Hayvvard ashamed of him. Owen bent down his head in horror and remorse. His friend's words went right through him like a keen sharp sword. For the worst of it all was, in the main, he admitted their justice. He, a Russian born, son and heir of a Russian martyr, nursed on Nihilist milk, fed on Nihilist bread, reared with care by the great head of the Nihilist Cause in England— how could he turn his back now upon the foster-mother faith that had suckled and nurtured him? If only he could have kept to his childish belief! If only he could have drunk in all those lessons as he ought. But, alas, he couldn't. Take it how you will, no ^ -%»- mM UNDER SEALED ORnERS. 371 &-< c>: >} iu yoii would lo system that I j'our mother 'ou would bo 10 sits like au zed despotism m we love to ,1 prisons, and ood daily from ^lishman, you iv can you be , while in the ople are dying ;imo because a crust of bread, er the name of Owen Cazalet ny heart — I'm 1. Owen bent remorse. His gh him like a ,t of it all was, justice. He, a lussian martyr, Nihilist bread, I of the Nihilist, e turn his back hut had suckled ;ould have kept he could have e ought. But, V you will, no good Nihilist can be ruared on English soil. You need the near presence of despotism in bod- ily form, and the horror it awakens by direct revulsion, to get the conditions that produce that particular strain. Such organisms can evolve in no other envi- ronment. Ashamed and disgraced and heart- broken as he felt, Owen con Id 111 have fired one shot at a concrete czar if heVl seen liim that moment. Ho may have been right. He may have been wrong. .But facts are facts, and at any rate, he couhhi''t. Ho gazed at Mr. Hay ward in an agony of re- morse. Then he hid his face in his hands. The hot tears ran down his cheek, big strong man as he was. "Oh, this is terrible," he said, "terri- ble. It cuts me to the heart, Mr. Hayward, that I must make you so miserable!" The white-faced Chief stared back at him with a stony pallor on those keen cl ar features. "Make me so miserable," he cried again, wring- ing liis numbed hands iu despair. "Every time you say that, you show me only the more how little the Cause itself has over been to you. " He 8ei;wd his ward's hands suddenly. "Owen Caz- alet," ho exclaimed, gazing hard at him, "listen here, listen here to me. For twenty years, dsty and night, I've had but one dream, one hope, one future. I've lived for the day when that great strong hand of yours— should clutch the chief criminal's throat, or bury a knife in his bosom. . . . For twenty years — tweniyj'ears, day • -^ ■>>Z t 'fii *r>. .■■:*r -■ i\ ^tmmmm 273 UNPBR SEALED ORDERS. \ aud night, cue droam, one hope, ore future. . . . • Aud now that you break it all down with a sin- gle cruel blow— not wholly unexpeotod, but none the lesB oru'd and crushing for all that— is it of myiolf I thmk, of ray ruined life, of my blasted expoctatious? No, no, I tell you, no— ten thou- sand times .10. I think only of Russia, bleeding, martyred ylussia. I think how she must still wear the oil ains you might have struck off her. I think lio^v hor poor children must sicken, and starve, aud die, and languish, in gloomy prisons or in stifling mines, because you have been un- true to youL- trust, and unfaithful to your prom- ise. I think but of her, while you think of me! Let my poor body die. Let ray ptwr soul burn in burning hell forever, but • give freedom, give life, give h(^po, and broad, and light, and air to Russia!" As he spoke, his face was transfigured to an unearthly beimty Owen had never before 'icen in it. The enthusiasm of a lifetime, crushed aud shattered by oue deadly blow, seemed to effloresco all ut once into a halo of martyrdom. The mai\ was lovely as one has s:imetimps seen a woman lovely at the m iment of the consummation of ii lifelong love. V^ut it was the loveliness of de- spair, of pathetic resignation, of a terrible blighting, despondent disillusion. Owen gazed at him and felt his own heart grow eoid like a stone. He would have given worlds that momem to feel once more ho hun- gered and thirsted ior the blood of a «.ar. r>Ht he didn't feel it, he couldn't feel it, and ho ie future. ... fii with a Bin- ntocl, but none that — is it of of my blasted no — ten thou- ssia, bleeding, ^he must still struck off her. ist sicken, and jloomy prisons have been un- to your proni- 7, think of nic! KX)r soul biirn freedom, give ght, and air to afigured to an ■ before seen in i>, mushed and led to cfflores(>o om. The man seen a woman iimmation of n 3veliness of de- of a terrible \ «^^«^'":= *' ,3^; UNDER SEALKn ORDERS. ^73 wouldn't pretend to it. He could only look on in silont jiity and awe at this sad wreck of a great hope, this sudden collapse of a lifelong enthusiasm. At last Mr. Hayward spake again. His voice was thick and" hard. "Is it this girl?" ho asked, with an eff.rt. "Tliis lone Dracopoli?" Owen was too proud to toll a lie or to prevari- cate. "It i,s,".he said trembling. "I've talked it all over v.-ith lone for weeks, and I love her dearly." The Chief rose slowly, and groped his way across the room toward the boll like a blind man. "Talked it over with lone!" he cried aloud. "Talked it over with a woman! Be- trayed tho Cause— divulged tho secret! Owen Cazalet, Owen Cazalot, I Avould never have be- lieved it of you !" Half way across tho room ho stopped and groaned aloud. He put his hand- kerchief to his mouth. Owen rushed at him in horror. It whs red, red, red. Then ho knew what had happenetl. The strain had been too much for Mr. Hayward's iron frame. God grant it hadn't killed him ! He had broken a blood vessel 1 '^m^ • '''-IS -4 his own heart dd have given 3 more he Imn- )f a ci^ar. Viat Peel it, and he • ■s. ■■ »-• w<' 274 UNDER SKALKD ORDBKS. S CHAPTER XXIX. U K < M N N I N U A K K K H H . In a very few minutoH, n doctor w/iM on th«^ spot. Lfirge blotxl-voBBel on the lung lie Bald. It might of course bo seriouK. Patient mustni on any account go down to Ealing, wliore ho lived, that night. Would it do, Owen asked, iti take him round in a hansom to a flat near Vic- toria Street? The very thing, the doctor an- swered. Only, carry him up the stairs. So in less than half an hour, the phalanstery was in- creased by a now member, and Mr. Hayward found himself comfortably tucke-t felt very strongly hor personal f asoinixtion ; so etrangoly (•.ni8fii:iui,u:i^ii.e wo, bC complex, so many-strandotl, that as ]\ii loved OwoS himself, so ho couldn't help loN-iu^r loQo too, bei^aUHc aho loved Ov/eii, and becarjo Qwou loved hef- In tho vast blank left l)j' t,io utter collapse of that twouty-yo^v i rheme <^ iii^, it was some faint 1 1 ■nfor+ +;j [^{^^■^ to fool tjjit loving hands at least were Btrf^trfihed out witlout stint to sooth and console a\m. -A-3 Mr Sacha, she had always resj^ected and veneraod Mr. Hayward almost as muoh as Oweu himsol; jjj. Q,^ jjj^j.^ he had claims of {rratitude in nianymauy ways; sho remembered him as tho kind Hond of their early days, the o^e link with hor c ildiah life, tho bravo ally of th oir mother in lior ^^irKcst hours, tho preserver w) xo had saved thcnfiom the cruel hand of Russi an despotism. An(3t;hQ grave, solemn earnestnes 3 of the bian toW^lso on her calm but prof ounc' ([y impression- ttbh Slavonic nature. Mr. Ha y^ard in fact ^ '&■■ SMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) /^ / 1.0 !fi I.I 28 111 |40 iiiiii III 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 4 6" — ► V <^ /i /^ -^^ *> ^ //, '/ /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 4. « V 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTEt^, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 % V € O^ I k i I •Vj''^'' r I- I' CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques ¥ i^j- 27H TINDER HBALUU ORDKR8. la m struck a chord in 8acha'8 being which no mere Western could touch; she felt herself strangely- akin to him by the subtle link of ethnical kin- ship. On the second morning of his illness, when Mr. Hayvvard, more conscious now, was just beginning to re-awake to the utter nothingnesH of his future, a ring came at the electric bell, which lone ran to answer. Blackbird was sit- ting just then by the sick man's bedside, singing spft and low to him a plaintive song of her own composing:::. It was a song about how sweet 'twould be these cramping brHinds tr> sever, to lie beneath the soil, froo from earth's care and moil, life's round of joyless toil, and sleep one dream- less sleep forever. At tiiat moment, on the last line, the bell rang sharp, and lone, who had been seated at the other side of the bed, holding her enemy's hand in her own, and soothing it gently with those plump round fingers, jumped up in haste at the familiar summons to the door, and ran out to open it. As she opened, she saw a lady of mature but striking beauty, with large magnetic eyes, which she seemed vaguely to recollect having seen be- fore somewhere. Then it came back to her rll at once— Lady Be,%umont'p At Home— the Rup- sian agent— that d.-eadful Madame Mireff— tlie spy! thespv!— whaj could sfw bo wanting here at such an untowarl moment? in one second, loae was a Nihilist full-fledged. An emissary of the Czar come so soon on the prowi after Our Mr. Hayward I (for she adopted him on BR8. which no mere jrself strangely tf ethnical kin- ? illness, when now, was just ter nothingnesH e electric bell, ickbird was sit- edside, singing ong of her own )ut how sweet tr> sever, to lie care and moil, 3ep one dream- in t, on the last who had been >d, holding her thing it gently jumped up in I the door, ?,nd of mature but ;ic eyes, which fiving seen be- )ack to her rll )Tne— the Rup- le Mireff — the wanting here it full-fledged, n on the prowi lopted him on ' UKDER SBAIiBD ORDERS. m the spot as part and pfycel of the phalanstery). This was abominable, shameful! But she rose to the occasion. You must tivat spies as spies ; meet lies with lies; trump treachery with trick- ery. At that instant, lone, born woman that she was, would have put off Madame Mireff with any falsehood that came handy, rather than ad- mit to the Czar's agent the incriminating fact that they were harboring a hunted and perse cuted Nihilist. He might have wanted to send Owen to his death, no doubt; and for that she could hate him herself, it was her right as a woman; but no third persan, above all a Russian spy, should over get ont of her, by torture or treason, by force or fraud, by will or guile, the very faintest admi»jion of Mr. Hayward's pres- ence. Madame Mireff, however, smiling her very friendliest smile — oh, how lone hated her for it — the serpent! the reptile! — handed her card very graciously ti the indignant girl. lone darted an angry glance at it — "Madame Mireff, Hotel Metropole," At least then the creature had the grace to acknowledge openly who she was — to put the whole world on its guard against her as a Rus- sian detective. "Oh, Miss Dracopoli," madame said in her softest voior., flooding lone with the light of these lustrous eyes, "T recollect you .so well. I had the pleasure, you know — Lady Beaumont'fl — you remember. " Tone just nodded an ungracious assent, as far as that head and neck of hers could make themselves ungracious. "Well," madame went on, divining her inmost 01 278 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. "I thought, ami still bont cii fabcination, "I come to-day us a friend, ^'ou've uo need to he afraid of ine. I won't Jisk whether Mr. Hayward's hero, for I know you'll toll me he isn't; I see that in your eyes; but will you take in my card and bo no kind us to -show it to everybody in the house, for some of them, I believe, might i)o glad to Bee me. ' ' "There's no Mr. Hay ward here," lone an- swered b.ddly, looking Htraight in her visitor't; eyes, and telling her lio outright,, with a very bold face, as any good woman and true would tell it in the circumstances. "There's only our- selves—just th'^ regular family. Miss ^Braith- waite you don't know. And as for Owen and Sacha, I'm sure they never want as long as they live to meet you." It wasn't polite, but it was straight as a die; for lone's one wish now wns to keep the Russian spy from entering the premises. Madame Mireff, however, sympathized with the girl's feelings too well not to be thoroughly prepared for this sharp reception. She smiled once more, and once more tried all her spells (in vain) on lone. "My child," she said kindly, "you're mistaken — quite mistaken. I come as a friend. I ask for no one. I only beg you to take my card in as I say and show it to every one in all j-our household." lone hesitated. No harm in taking it, after all; indeed, till Mr. Hay ward had seen it, she hardly knew what to do. But she wasn't going to leave the strange woman out there alone, un- QRS. ■■li,.: \ TTNBRR SKALED ORDERS. 879 mtion, "I como Qod t J be af mid >Ir. Hiiy ward's he isn't; I see ike in inv card rei-yhody in tho might ho glad ore," lone an- iu her visitor't; tj with a very ud true wouhl lere's only our- Miss ;,Braith- for Owen and IS long as they light as a die ; :)p the Russian pathized with be thoronghl}' . She smiled 1 her spells (in said kindly, I come as nlj; beg you to )W it to every iking it, after d seen it, she I wasn't going ere alone, un- watcLed and unguarded, "Blackbinl," she called aloud, "just come out here a minute !" .... Then in a whisper: "Look here; stand there, and keep an eye on this dreadful woman. Don't let her come in. If she tries to pass you, throw your arms round her at onoe, and cling to her for dear life, and scream out at the top of your voice for Owen." Poor Blaclbird, somewhat startled by these strange directions, took her place timidly where she was told, and kept her own eyes fixed on thy large-e^ed woman. Mesmeric, she fancied; the kind of person to send j'ou into a sleep, a deli- clous long sleep, where no Greek verbs would trouble your brain, no dreams disturb you! But lone, tripping scornfully in, carried the card in her hand to Mr. Hayward's bedside, and hold it before him without a word, t.> pass his own judg- ment on it. A wan smile came over the sick man's pale face. "What? Olga, dear Olga!" ho said, like one pleased and comforted. "Show her in, lone !" "But she's a i Russian spy," lone objected im- prudently. Mr. Hay ward looked vxp at her wUh a white face of horror. ""What do you know about all this?" he asked sternly. "This is treason! This is betrayal I" Poor lone! Tho words came upon her like a shock of cold water. She had been thinking only of protecting him ; and this was how he re- paid her. But even so, she remembered first her duty to Owen, "^e never told me!" she said 280 UNDER SKALED ORDERS. proudly, "//e never betrayed you! You be- trayed j'oursolf. I found it out, all by guesa work, that first night in Moroiie 1 tafilel after each nieiU^ Dellvwecl by moll for aic. In stauipg. C arl L. J ekbkn Co., «»> North Thli^ Street Philadelphia, Pa. Samples and Circulars FRE!Ea (283) • 1^^ ■',■'-» ^m; '■(■' MILTON'S Paradise Lost WITH THE DORE ILLUSTRATIONS. Complotc in Olio R()\:il Quarto V tliinio, in larffc, open-facod type, printed on Bcaulifnl Siipor-Calcndert'd hipcr; the Full-Pas:i> Illustrations are [jiinted on Plate Paper and tipped in. Tliis is a really nia/?niflcent volume. 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CHAPTER XXX. ' THE RULE OF THE ORDBK. For tho rest of that week, Olga Mireff came daily and watched by Ruric Brassoff's bedside. As usual, her natural charm of manner and her magnetic attractiveness soon succeeded in over- coming all suspicious foars on the part of the little community. Madame grew quite fond of lone and lone of her; while Sacha, when once she had discovered tlie Czar's spy was a friend in disguise, could have done anything for her as one of "dear Mr. Hay ward's" admirers. Before the end of the week, though no secrets were told, no criminating word overtly spoken between them — they had all arrived at a tacit under- standing with one another as to their common acquaintance. Madame Mireff in particular felt dimly in her own heart 'hat Sacha and fone were fully aware of Mr. Hayward's being a Russian and a Nihilist, though they didn't spe- cifically identify him with Prince Ruric Brass- (283) •^1 >v .-JJ* 28^^ UNPKR »KALBI) ORDERS. off. Aud'ns loue wiw Jilwiiys kindness itself to madanxo, now hIio know hor for one of Mr. liayward's frionds, and vaj^iiely suspoctwl her of being a Nihilist too, Madame Miroff gut on with her as she always got on with everybody, after the first tlush of prejudice against the "KuBsiau spy" had had time to wear otf, and the real wotnan had a88ertaiiwhilt>. And lone had made Mr. Hayward seo that to her, at least, Owen had never betrayetl him. She told that nnhapp}' revolutionist everything; from the moment when she tirrft said to Owen at Ain-Essa, "The man's »). Kussian!" to the mo- ment when, on the summit of the down at Moor Hill, she blurted out her intuitive guess, "You've pk)mi8ed that horrid Nihilist man to blow up the Czar for him." She made it all quite clear to him how Owen at first had tried to avoid hsr; how pure chance liad thrown them together again, the second night at Beni-Mengolla; how she her'jelf had made tho arrangements to go and live with Sacha; how Owen had fought Against his love, while she, recognizing it, had brought her woman's wits to fight on its side, against him; and how she had conquered in the end, only by surprising and telling out his secret. All this lone told, as only lone could tell it, with jierfect girlish modesty and perfect womanly frankness, so that Mr. Hayward at the end couldn't find it in his heart to say a word of re- mm )RDRRS. lys kindness itaelf ler for one of Mr. sly Himpocted hor of Mircff got oil with ;b everybody, after ainHt tile "liussiun off, and the roiil II all licr womanly [one, they had had iselvos incaiiwhilo. lyward neo that to vev betrayotl him. tioiiist everything; 'rft said to Owen at isian!" to the mo- the down at Moor ive guess, "You've nan to blow up the ; all quite clear to :ried to avoid hsr; fn them together 'ni-Mengolla; how Tangements to go Owen had fought ecognizing it, had > fight on its side, d conquered in the ling out his secret. ( could tell it, with perfect womanly ward at the end ) say a word of re- UNDER SEALED ORDERS. proach or of anger against her. "Tout savoir," says the wise French proverb, "c'est tout par- douner." And if Mr. Hay ward didn't quite for- give all— that wore too mucli to ask— at least he understood it and in a great part condoned it. One day, toward the end of the wt>ek, how- ever, a ring came at the bell, and lone went oat to the door to answer it. "Telegram for Ma- dame MiroflE," the boy said. "Sent on from the Mettropoal." lone carried it in. Madame wtis seated by Mr. Hay ward's bedsii' > with that rapt expression of joy lone had often noted on her speaking features. It seemed to do her good just to be near Ruric Brassoff — just to hold his thin hand, just to watch his sad countenance. She tore it open carelessly. "From Lord (.'aistor, no doubt," she said. "He's so anxious for me to go down for their house party to She'rriugham." But even as she read it, a dark shade passed over her face. "It's hard for a man to serve two masters," she said in Russian, as she passed it across with a sigh to Ruric Brassoff. "How much harder, then, for a woman!" The invalid took it and read in French, "Re- turn at once to Petersburg. Most important news. Can't trust post. No delay. Alexis Selistoff." He drew a deep sigh. "You must go, Olga," he said in Russian. "This may bode ill for the Cause. We must know what it means, at any rate. Though it's liard, very hard. I'd give anything to have you with me in this my hour of darkness," •'m --■3w»ssi^r,#gKi^'6i^-jftSki»'%^^ni;^**f^«e?^ ■- UNDER HKALBI) OKORK8. MivlHnii' Miroff roso at once, and went Blackbird out for a continental Brat';st-hH8tO to rtl at the Motro- by thir Czar at i Helf had ever said ischiimod official- n she would have tion of nihilism. !ady the character ) ean't move hand ^ susjiected. She ; everybody's dis- naidious politictil left hurriedly for ice waa, the Czar t bitter January g -thick on the level flats of the Marieuburg, and g. But Madame light, unwearied i^er resting for a )wn house in the UNDER SEALED OKt>ER8. 887 Russian capital. And she hadn't l)oon homo Iialf an hour to warm heif elf before she drove round in her sloigh to the Third Section where, Htill chilled from her journey, she vvjih ushered up at once by au obseipiious orlerly into 'Jeneral ^)oli(4toff's cabinet. The general shook hands with her warmly, al- most affectionately. "Ho Bieh, mudame," he said, sitting d'jwn again, and twirling his gray mustache between one bronzed flnger and thumb, "how about Ruric Biumh )ff?" Madame repressed a nascent start with no small effort. It was a critical moment. Was there some traitor in the camp/ Had Owen let slip some unguarded phrase? Had lone — but no. She recovered her self-possession almost be- fore she had lost it. This was a life and death matter for her. for Russia, and for Ruric Brass- off. "Not a trace of him," she answered stout- ly, in her most matter-of-fact tone. "Not a sign of him anywhere. Though I've hunted high and low, I can learn nothing of his movements. I've mixed much with young men in England- hotheaded radical young men — Cunningham Graham and his kind— the sort of young fire- brands who know Stepniak, -rvl Lavroff, and Kropotkine and their like — and the openly avowed Nihilists of London or Paris — little idiots who talk foolishly, publicly, freely of the most secret designs; and many of them have confided in me; but I can't get hold of anything solid or definite about the creature Brassoff. He's in England— that's all I know, for letters ■»ti iif ^h nMr^ iifci ..-:; jdXi>' 5*»J!«*f'T*'«., *«W,« rft?*!^:''(K4f->-«'«/vS*%»--xi»>'W-«*«**aif)Ht. But ?ii()ro than tluit, not ii soul I uuMst can toll UMK He niUHt live underground, like a mole, they nay, for no ono (!virtunitiort of knowing English intorion* you can't track him down! It ought to ho ])o.h- nible. But there, that cmmtry huH no police. Its i'tat civil is the most hackward in Kuropo. One thing alone wo kiir)w : he wtill liven; he Ptill writes; he still J)u11h all the wires; he still directs everything." "It's generally bolieved," fnadame went on, growing less nervous as sh(5 ])roceedod, "that he's one ut the group who compile these dis- graceful and slanderous articles against Hussia in, tha Fort nigh f J ij Review, signed E. B. Lanin. There's no such person, of coui-se, I^anin's a mere pseudonym; and it covers, like charity, a multitude of writers. Vou must have noticed the articles, no doubt, your attenti'm woidd hn called to them by the official censors." General SelistofE n(x1ded, and drummed with one hand on the desk before hitn. "I've eeon them," hp made answer. "Most abominable exposures. We blackod them all cut in every copy that entered the country. And the worst of it all is, every word of it was true too The reptiles wrote with perfect knowledge, and with studied coolness and moderation of tone. I sus- tDKKg. oomo witliin one ut »v Botil I inent uudorgronnd, like (ectod BraMW)ff'8 hand in nioro than one of tho vilti libols. Tn«ro wore fiu;tH in them that could liardly havu como from niiy on») dso than him. But lhi8 iH puro guos8work. Why havon't you J'ouu'J. oiW You knaw tho tvlitorV" MadHnu) Miri'ff smilod a moHt diplomatic Hiuilo. "VVoll, yo8," sho Haid. "I know him. lUit not from A /m. Oh, impowail.lo! No use trying thuro. luoorruptiblo! Incorruptible:" And Hho went on to detail at full length all tho iiou.ses Hhe had visited, all the inquiries sho had made, all the wiles she had used, and haw fruit- leas, after all, had been her diligent search after Uuric Brassoff. "Well, but those children?" the general asked after a whilo, with an ugly scowl on his face. "Those children I asked you to track down, you remember? My unworthy brother's son and daughter? How have yon done in the sojwoh for them?" ', . "Equally vain," madamo answered. "Well hidden away from sight. Not a trace to be found of them anywhere in England." General Selistoflf leaned back in his swinging chair, p."ikered his brows, and looked stern at her. "But there is in Russia," he said, cross- ing his arms, with an air of savage triumph. "Anil that's what I sent for you all the way to Petersburg for." Madamo's heart sank within her in an agony of terror. "What on earth could this forbode? Had he tracked them himself? Must she be aj&ifi''. f'-l^. : 4< ^m ■m ? ■/■if: . :vs^is^Sir;*^"*fath*.'iia?.*-''is^Vv^'''ierv"B*t**;^iw#^^ 290 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. driven after all into aiding him to hunt down Owen HJid Saciui? , For even if Owen was a traitor t:^ the Cause, he wasRuric Brassoff's friend ; andastoSacha, Olga Mireff had Icarnetl by now to love lior dearly. The general turned to a pigeon-hole in the desk by his side and drew out a bundle of pa- pers, neatly bound and docketed. "See here," he began slowly. "We arrested last week in a suspected house at Kieff, one Basil Ossiusky, a chief of the propaganda among the students oi the university. "We hatl known him for long as a most doubtful character. In his papers we fonnd — a letter from Ixindon, in cipher as usual, which I'll trouble you to look at. You will note at once — aa you know the man's signature — iVn in Ruric Brasaoff's handwriting." Madame took tbc inculpated document, • and with difficulty avoided a gasp of- surprise — fc^r she* read it at a glance; and it would have been death to her, or wliat was worse than death, de- tection, if she had let Alexis Selistoff see she could read at sight the Nihilist cipher. The general fished out a few m(5re letters from luB desk in the same well known hard. "Now, the point of all these," he said, fingering them lovinglj^ "is simply this. They'sliow — wliat I could hardly have otherwise believed — that it's that incarnate devil, Brassoff liimKelf, who has taken charge of my own brother's son svA daughter, these degenerate Selistoffs. They further show that he's training that young friend, in England or elsevrhere, for some dia- ORDSRS. i ; ^ V him to hunt down itor t J tho Cause, he nd as to Sacha, Olga ) love iier dearly. pigeon-hole in the out a bundle of pa- :eted. "See here," isted last week in a e Basil OsHiusky, a oug the students of »wu him for long as In his pai)ers wo , in cipher as usual, at. You will note m's signature — it'n ing." - , - ted document, • and sp of. surprise — h,v it would have been Tso than death, de- is Selistoff see she sfc cipher. V more letters from )wn hand. "Now, lid, fingering tliem 'hey*sl)ow — Avliat I believed — that it's : himself, who has brother's son 8i;d Selistoffs. They ining that young , lere, for some dia- tf.-.wii■^la^^a^ K^.j^l^^^^^8l^-l i >;m^g,^ ■^ !awW■li l^«' ■ y ^' '' ; " '" B ^1it. ml WBaWWipgj|M| i UNDKR SEAbEb ORDERS. 291 bolical sclienie, not fully disclosed, against the life and throne of our beloved omperor. Tliey show that he has long drawn upon his ignorant cr veuoniouH fellow-conspirators in Russia for funds to carry out this abominable project. They show that the scheme of the pro[)os6d crime was known in full detail to no more than four persons; liuric Brassoft" himself, Basil Os- siusky, and two others, unnamed, who are indi- cated, like the rest of the crew, by numbers only. But the devil of it all is, we've got tho general idea of the scheme alone ; for the assumed namo and present address of young Selistoff, upon which all depends, was separately inclosed in a sealed envelope, not to be opened on any account except on the occurrence of a certain contin- gency; and this envelope, unfortunately, the man has managed to conceal, or indeed, as we incline to believe, he has actually swallowed it." Madame Mireff breathed hard. "And what was that contingency?" she asked, in almost tremulous trepidation. "Why, it was to be opened in c ise the young criminal, Sergius Selictoff, after having been trained for the purpose on Nihilist money and inspired to the utmost by Nihilist friends, should suffer in the end f/om qualms of conscience — shoujd refuse at the last moment to carry out the terms of his infamous bargain. Supposing that contingency to occur, it became the s-vorn duty < f the three confidants of Ruric Brassoff's secret, to break the sealed envelopes, and disclose Ser- gius Selistoff 's assumed name and identity.- And -^-tlnE**> *?.-S ¥ 291 UNDISR SEALBD ORDERS. they were further boimd by a soh^mu oath, all three of them alike, with Ruiuc Brassoff an well. Hiul the whole couHpiracy at their backs, to hound down that youug rascal to his death, by fire, water, or dynamite, i\nd never t.> rest for ii moment till tht»y ur he were ilead, in the effort to punigh him for his broach of discipline.'" Miidame MirefF's blood ran cold. "1 nee, she said faintly. "They're dreadful people, those Nihilists. No faith, no houur! The sort of things they do really frighten ard appal one." General Selistoff leaned back, and twirled his gray mustache with those bronzed fingers once more. As a military martinet, he almost sym- pathized hinrtself v/ith this blootltliirsty regula- tion. "Well, in politics," he said slowly, "we can none of us afford to be over particular about the choice of our means. Politics, as I've often said, have a morality all their own. 1 don't blanie these people for trying to enforce order in their own ranks. It's juet what we do our- selves. ... I shan't mind though, if only we can catch this young Sergius Selistoff . . . . As a Rus- sian subject, we ought to be able to get hold of him somehow. Extradition, no doubt, on a charge of common conspiracy, would succeed in doing it. It's a very good clew. We must "follow it up incessantly." ^> ■ ,f;,<^%. BR8. UNBEB SEALED ORDERS. 998 solomu oath, all Brassoff as well, their backs, to to his death, l>y ver to rest for a ad, in the effort liacipline.'' cold. "I Hee, fill people, these ■I The sort of irid appal one." and twirled his ised fingers once he almost sym- Klthirsty regula- aid slowly, "we particidar abaut C8, as I've often own. I don't enforce order in lat we do oiir- 1, if only we can . . . . As a Rus- ) get hold of him fc, on a charge of Jed in doing it. st "follow it 11 J ^■ijii. CHAPTER XXXI. AND AFTER? In England, meanwhile, Mr. Hayward gi-ew slowly better. In spite of the great weight on his mind — a weight of despair and of donbt for tlu future which he didn't attempt to conceal — his health improved by degrees under Sacha's and lone's careful mirsing. Blackbird, indeed, sometimes soothed him with congenial pessimism ; there were no fresh green laurel-leaves now for her to pursue her chemical investigations upon; so the poor child turned her energies (such as tliey were) instead to the equally congenial task of suggesting to Mr. Haysvard the immense ad- vantages of annihilation over continued existenca "If only you could die," she said to l.im more than once, "how happj- you would l)e ! And how happy I would he, if only I could go witli you." Notwithstanding these gloomy vaticinations, hawever, Mr. Hayward, strange to say, get grad- ually better; he was even carried out into the drawing-room, where Blackbird played and sang to him sweet songs of despair, and where Trevor Gardener and Henley Stokes were in time permitted to pay their respecta to the mys- t^ous stranger. Day by day his strength re- ftg T\'v ■*" ■ 1 .■iate* •^••'ti,. J .J-tN»-«5 4?isV.r.i'»ij!i-»ia--».».^M»i-*i«> W\ 894 UNDER SEALICO OBDEB8. ^t «' !•' >' turned, thoii{fh his cheeks wjre now pale and liis eyos horribly sunken, h was clear the dis- appointment had shaken the foundations of tlio man's very being, both bodily and spiritual. His aim in life was gone. He had nothing to do now but brood over his lost hopes— aud face the problem of the future for Owen Caza'ot. Uow serious that problem was he alone had any cjnception. He had woven a cunning plot against Owen's life; and now that he loved him well, and fain would save him, why, the plot would go on by itself iu spite of him. ^ . As he grew stronger, ho seemed to lean more auected to be xiappy or bright again, now. All that was done with, all that was .ut from under him. But he was well enough, any- how, to move, and go off on his own account. And go off he would, alone ; for he had to make new plans, as things stood at present — serious plans, difficult plans, for Owen's future. And Owen's future, indeed, had been most seriously upset; for the appointment had come from Lwd Caistor, as Mathime Mireff antici- pated, and Owen, feeling it impossible now he should ever take it up, had promptly replied by refuging it and withdrawing his name from the list of candidates for the diplomatic service. An- other man had been substituted for him, so that chance was gone forever. Indeed, Owen knew ho must now earn his own livelihood somehow in a far humbler sphere; luxuries like the Foreign Office posts were no longer for him. It was a question now of eighty pounds a yt.ar and a hum- ble clerkship. Sa he was looking about, himself, vaguely, for something to do, though the awful weight of the despair he had brought on his vene- rated friend bowed him down to the very ground with pain and sorrow. ♦ !■ fr. *-, ^ > ■fttmiS^^-i M--S/7K^,^^^^^?id&l^i^9f»T^: 4* That very afternoon, however, true to his word, Mr. Hay ward went away \tithout further warn- ing, lone helped him pack his portmanteau. Ab he talked to her, meanwhile, the. vague pre- sentiment of coming evil in the girl's frightened soul grew deeper and deeper. Gradually it dawned upon her that their troubles, far from being finished, were hardly half way through. Mr. Hayward's curious reticence struck terror even into that joyous and exuberant nature. our by himself, i>y might begin •tied the coriior. :or u prosper uuu rk of Mr. Huy. jfountl anxiety lid it bo thut lie ' sho and Sachii iblo penalty at- ? Could those Jar, gentle old ickedness ! He 1 see that at a ■ushed, broken, 10 first moment flat, Mr. Hay- tenderly aflPec- )ken with more ild ; no mother jiniment more ue to his word, further warn- portmanteau. the. vague pre- ri's frightened Graduallj'- it ibles, far from way through. struck terror )erant nature. » {.m^ ifmum.. i u» TTNDBR HBALBD r>RDERS. .ii i «Miii'» aW) Where would he 8t>»yy Well, as yet, he said, he really didn't know. Ho was giing away somewheii) — in the country -*■ indefinite. He tnuHt look about for a place that would suit his purptJHe. What purpose? Ah, so far, he could hardly say. It must depend upon chance, upon suggestion, upon circumstances. But when his portmaiitoau was packed, he seized lone's hand in a sort of transport, and pressed it hard between his own. "My child," ho cried in a broken voice, giv- ing way all at once, "oh, my child, my dear daughter, I thank you so much for your good- ness, your sympathy. You've been kind to a wounded soul. You've been tender to a bruised reed. Your smile has been sunshine to me in the wreck of my life, my hopes, my day dream. How can I repay you thus? It goes to my heart to think I must requite you so cruelly!" • The lump rose in lone's throat once more. What on earth could he moan l>v it? ' ' Requite me ? How ? Why ? ' ' she asked, with a terrible sinking. Mr. Hayward's voice quivered. • ' r "Never mind, dear daughter," he said; and he kissed her v/hite forehead, "I've loved Owen well, and you, too, very dearly; at first for Owen's sake, but now for your own also, and fo' your loving kindnesF. But I have no choice in this affair. I'm. not my own master. Others aro more bound to it than even I. . . . I'll spare him all I can. . . . I'll try to make it easy for him." 1.4 S .m 800 1TNDBK HBALED ORDERS. In some dim, despiiiring way lone lialf jfiiessed wluit liti meiiut. "Then it's uot all over yet?" hIio uried, draw- ing back with ii look of horror. "All over?" the NihiliHt chief answered, in a tone of the utmost despair. "All over, niy dear- est daughter! Oh, you can't moan that! Why, it's only beginning!" And seizing her plump face between his two hands, and bonding down tj kiss her lips with one fervent kiss, he rushed out wildly into the hall, and downstairs to the hansom, not even daring to say good-by to Owen and Sacha. lone burst into tears and hurried back to het own l>etlroom. • .► ,. i ■•''■ ■'■•■"■ ■ •■ '■ : %•,, .i - .^ ;. .1 ■ .* ■ ■ ' '• ,i*'- , .. ,**!;•, .'•• •■ ' ' . ■"■."-■■■' ii. ;i;: t':: » ' , .•';. ?V^j,jr5 • .» ,' ^-^.. 4.' ■ -i lA'. ■-■':• wf,•^•. 1- -■ •-'■'•- •■ ,y Mif-ii' 4 ^••'•■v- t'" ' ■ :■> ■■> \. ■.. .'IT- "-.Hi. :"< ' V ^'' ' •" . .' ' . ' . ii- k-. ,t')f y -' ?tj!f #■■ - >' ' " * . ''/.^.'^V •; -:-::, ';>H<<;V . ■ ■■ >* •• .A--**** «B^ ^ .^•;.;'. '4.-V/,. -->*^:.. - s y^yf.- ■■:y-pj;:/ : ■ ■ -^T^:^: : -y- ■^■;:yi^f-\ih»? . u:vt- .'',,^\. ■ ■'■'■■/^i-^Ul-.' ,>>3',irf;,v -.K'^^ri'- ^ ■■■■.'>.{^:^:'. me half {^ueHsed jhe cried, draw- answored, in a i over, tuy dear- mthatl. Why, •etween his two IB her lips with wildly into the som, not even id Sacha. led back to her , "• .. >*}! I - " 'fyif> VUDBB HKAL.KD ORDKRS. 801 '4 ^'•- ?, V. ^■^.^-'■r 'v4,'';*i"'I,.T:-i^; CHAPTER XXXII. ^j GOOD-BY. .rj... Aftkr Mr. Hayward's hnrrietl departure, a period of flatness brooded over the Hat. The old excitement of his illness was over for the mo- ment, and the new excitement, at which he hiwl hinted so strangely and mysteriously to lono, hadn't yet come on. So the members of the phalanstery mooued listlessly about at their daily work: Sacha t)ainted without spirit; Blackbird composed without inspiration; lone mixed pud- dings without a touch of the divine afflatus of heaven-born cookery. She hardly even dared to tell Owen himself what Mr. Haywrird had said to her. She locked it all up, terrified, in the re- cesses of her own bosom. Owen's return to Moor Hill, too, left the flat all the lonelier. He had no cause to remain any longer in London as things now went; he didn't want to sponge on Sacha and the girls — though, to be sure, the jilternative was sponging on Aunt Julia. But the Red Cottage had always seemed to him so much of a home that he felt less like an intruder thei'e than in Saeha's chambers. So to Moor Hill he retired for the present, deeply engaged in thought as to where to turn and how 4,11- ■•• 302 UNDER 8:'4LKD OROKRS. to look alKxit him nt thin criHiu for an honest livelihooil. Tlio (litliculty, iiulot'd, whs greivt ami preHsing. HoiiPHt livolihoodH aro Hcarce in tliis orovvilod mart of on TH. And Owon had roo»nv» d no Hi)e- ciul or terlinical trHinirif^. }Iavin{{ no uuivurHity doj^roo, the Hordid Hhift of Bchot)IinaHturing — that last rofnge of the destitute — was jrloHed HKaiiiHt him. He waited and wondered wliat course to purrtue. To say the truth, the diplomatic Horvic(< is HO gentlemanly and ho diHtingui.shed a pursuit that pr(«|)aration for it seemed to have shut all other duors against him. He hadn't long to wait, however. On the fourth morning after his return to Moor Hill the jxwt brought him a letter in a well-kuowu handwriting. Owen tore it opt>n with impa- tience. His respect and veneration for Mr. Hay- ward were still so intense that he read his guar- dian's letters with positive revei-euco. This one contained two distinct inclosures. The first was a formal note, with nothing compromising iji it of any sort, dated from a little village up the river beyond Oxford, and inviting Owen to run flown there for a week's rest and a little boating. (Strange season for boating, Owen thought to himself, parenthetically.) They could talk over the subject of his future together, the letter said, not unkindly, after the change of plans necessi- tated by his determination not on any terma to accept the Vienna appointment. \ , ..:.U7 .'.»,.. i. The second note, marked "Strictly Private," was of a very different tenor: • "^'"'■^W*!' » fur an honent it iiiul preHsing. 1 this crowded icoivtd no h\)q- ig tio univorBity lUintwriuf^ — timt i cloHod Hf^llillHt wlmt courno to iloinatic Horvico lished a jtursuit huve uhut all ever. On tho to Moor Hill 1 11 well-known Ml with impa- in for Mr. Hay- read his guar- uco. This one The first was promising in it village up the J Owen to run . little hoating. en thought to lould talk over the letter said, plans necessi- 1 any terms to ctly Private," -«s»V -I'sirf^SJVt uNHRR UnAXMD ORniCRfl. ms "My dkak ( )WR\— Both aH your gimnlian and iis your (Miii'f, I ank you — nay, I or(lt?r you — to (.•ome down here ,it onve to the IwlgiiigH [ am Htaying in. I don't attempt to ooni'OHl from yiu tho gravity of the circunistanccH. This criHiR ih ,1 serious ono. Kurtlipr particnlarsyou will le;irn from me immediately on your arrival. Mtum- while, show the prenent letter to Tii)l)ody on any iiccianit; al)Ove all, nottolone. Leave the other one, which accompanieH it, and which is wine hh a l)lind, o|H>iily di^playtxl on your study table. But 1)1 ing this witli you, and return it to me here. I will then destroy it niyHelf, in order that I may make sur»' it has b«H»ti really got rid of. (/ome without fail by to-morrow evening ; and say nothing eitlier to Miss Cazalet, Sarha, lone or Blackbird about this matter. You may tell your aunt casuHlly, if y.ui like, you're coming down here to me; bnt I advise yon not to go near Victoria Street in the present juncttiro. My hoy I my boy! I woulilhavo spared you if I could: but I eun't, oh, T can't; I'm utterly powerless. "In profound distress, "Your ever affectionate and heartbroken Gnardian, Lambkrt Hayward." Owen turned tho letter over with a dismal fore- boding of evil. He knew no small misfortune could make Mr. Hayward write with s6 much gravity as that. Some terrible necessity must be spurring him in. Still, Owen's sense of dis- cipline and obedience was as implicit as ever— or nearly ds implicit. Without a moment's de- Jl__ iJKi^AJ^ii&'i. y. %• I i .,1; 1 i '. H 'I ; ■mi'^ w Ik' ^r u UNDER SEALED ORDErIS. lay, ho handed Aunt Julia the letter intended for the public eye. "I must go down to him, of course," ho said, suppressing his alarm. "He's immensely dis- appointed about my giving up Vienna— on con scientious grounds, which 1 haven't fully ex- plained to you— and I must go at once and tiilk things over in full with him. Poor, dear Mr. Hay ward ! He looked 30 weak and ill when ho left London the other day that I shall be glad to get down with him and see if he wants any further nursing." Aunt Julia acquiescel. That phra.so, "con- scientious grounds," hnd a mollifying f ffoct upon her. It was a shibboleth, inoleed, which Aunt Julia understood, and which apisealod to her as an outward and visible sign of the very best principles. "You should cei tainly go, dear," she said, the unwonted "dear" being extorted from her in token of complete approval. "To visit the poor man in his sickness — esi^ecially after all his marked kindness to you in the past— is a Chris- tian duty." Owen rose from the breakfast- table as soon as he was finished and packed his portmanteau. It ■was a liltle difficult to do, for Jiis arm was sprained— he hiid hurt it badly two days before in one of his athletic bouts ; but he went through with the task manfully. Then he started up to town by an early train; though he didn't mean to Teach Oxfordshire till the winter evening. His sense of discipline, I said, was almost, but -rti RDERS. > letter intended for )f course," ho said, a's imnieiisel}' dis- p Vienna — on con- Imven't fully ex- at onco and tiilk . Poor, dear Mr. ik and ill when he lat I shall be glad lee if he wants any hat phrase, "con- lifying t ffoct upon icleed, which Aunt appealed to her as of the very best ear," she said, the irted from her in "To visit the poor ally after all his » past— is a Chris- st-table as soon as 1 portmanteau. It for ijis arm wao y two days before t he went through 1 he started up to he didn't mean to 3r evening. 1, was almost, but I ,//.,. A^iv UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 306 not quite, as implicit ps ever; for when he got to Victoria he didn't drive straight across town to Paddinglon, as one might natur.illj'^ have ex- pected ; ho put his portmanteau in the doak-ro-m instoad, and walked v/^ith a burning heart down the street to Sacha'r, That was against orders, to be sure; but the crisis was so grave! Instinc- tivelj^ Owen felt lie might never again see lone in this world, and he couldn't go to his grave, if his grave it must be, without saying good-by to her. Even so, however, he was faithful in essentials to Mr. Haywatd. He saw lone in the drawing- room for tan minutes alone hef (.>re he left the flat ; but he never told her a word of where he was go- ing or what Mr. Hay ward had written to him. He merely mentioned offhand in a very careless tone that he was on his way down to Oxford- shir-^, to stop with Mr. Hayward and talk things over. Something must be done, of course, about his future life. Something about the repayment of all the money spent upon him. So Owen, falt(>ring. But lone, for her part, read the truth more deeply. She clung about him like one panic strfcken, and held him tight and wept over him. She knew what it all meant, she was sure, though but very vaguely. Mr. Hay ward's own hints had told her far too much. "My darling," she cried in her terror, "my darling, you will never come back to me!" Owen, holding his wounded right aim away from her, soothed her tenderly with his left. ->. •li \'i- :ft(eB«».V.;-i(^.«--^S^'t •-■*!« -iv. ^:; Ktk ^-.i^-i-9!Si(KSRrt^;«»ii^»-;i f 306 UNDER SEALED 0RDER3. i "lone," he said, bending low to her, "if I never come back I shall have known at least the best thing on this earth— to love and be loved by a pure, good woman. I shan't have missed in life what life has best worth giving." The poor girl cluug to him tighter stlil. "Oh, how cruel!" she cried through her tears. "Think of his dragging you away from me like this! And I nursed him so tenderly! Why, Owen, if only I'd known it, I'd have wished him dead instead a thousand times over. If I'd imagined he'd be so wicked I almost think I could have poisoned him." Owen unwound her arms gently. "Imust gosaon," he said; "I mustn't stop; and, lone, for my sake, you won't let it be seen you suspect or expect anj^thiiigV" "I can't help it!" lone exclaimed, breaking down once mote and sobbing. "How can I help it, darling? How can I help it ! I can 'Het you go. I mjist tell the police! I mi it rouse all the world ! I must come after you .^nu prevent him!" Shame made Owen's face red. He took her hand very firmly. "My child," he said, looking reproachfully at her, like a Nihilist that he was, "I've disobeyed orders in coming to see you at all; and I dis- obeyetl them because I said to myself : 'I can't go without at least kissing her dear lips once more, and saying gcxxi-by, if good-by it must be, to her. And I'll risk the disobedience, be- cause I know she's brave, and she won't break IER3. (V to her, "if I lown at least the and be loved by- have missed in ing." bter stlil. rough her tears, iy from me like mderly ! Why, d have wished 08 over. If I'd almost think I mustn't ^op; 't let it be seen imed, breaking How can I help I can't let you ni:^t rouse all )ii .<,na prevent . He took her jproachfuUy at I've disobeyed all ; and I dis- rself: 'I can't dear lips once od-by it must lobedience, be- e won't break 'ft UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 807 down or stop me or betray me. I'll show Mr, Hayward a woman's love doesn't always make one lose all sense of discipline. I'll say good- by to her liko a man, and then obey my orders.' . . . lone, are you going to make me regret my decision?" lone stood up and faced him. Those cheeks, once 80 ruddy, were pale as a ghost. But she answered him firmly none the loss. "No, Owen, no. Go, if you feel you must. But my darling, my darling, if j-ou never come back I shall die for your sake; I shall kill my- self and follow j'ou!" "One thing more," Owen added. "I don't know what all this means. I go under sealed orders. But if I die — mind — not a word of sus- picion against Mr. Hayward! I couldn't bear that! Promise me, darling, promise me I" lone's voice was choked with tears, but as well as she could she sobbed out: "I promise you!" Then she flung herself upon his neck like a child on its mother's and cried long and- silently. -■•I '^k 808 UXDER BBALED ORDKnS. CHAPTER XXXIII. A 8TKANOE SUGGESTION. It was almost dusk when Owen reached Ben • lade, the countrified little Oxfordshire station on the Great "Western line where he was to meet Mr, Hayward. He had telegraphed on by what train he was coming, and as he descended from the carriage, somewhat chilled from his ride, a familiar hand pressed his shoulder kindly. "Hullo, here you are!" Mr. Hayward said, trying to grasp his right hand. "Well, I'm glad at any rate you came on at once. It's something to see still, my boy, you can at least obey orders!" He spoke gravely but affectionately, with a tender ring in his silvery voice. Owen blushed for pure shame as he thought at that moment of his grass disobedience in saying good-by to lone. He held out his left hand somewhat awkwardly in return, for the right was bandaged. "Why, what's this?" Mr. Hayward asked, looking down at it in surprise. And Owen answered, not without a pang of regret at having to acknowledge so much levity at so grave a moment, "Well, I had a slight ac- cident with it at Moor Hill a couple of days ago. - ■- .- -.z^aSsBtP aJSfeJfa.,.*-^ -r^^_- DDKS. ?TION. en reached Beu- fordshire station e he was to meet phed on by what 5 descended from from his ride, a houlder kindly. Hayward said, d. "Well, I'm n at once. It's you can at least ionately, with a Owen blushed that moment of good-by to lone, irhat awkwardly daged. "Why, asked, looking bhout a pang of ) so much levity had a slight ac- ple of days ago. ■ J" ' 4< ' > ' ; ■"". ' . t'" ■■ j < " ' "" « . ' UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 309 The fact is, I saw a gate by the roadside that wanted vaulting badly. . It looked as good as new, though a trifle mossgrown. I touched it- just so — and the minute it felt my weight, hie, presto ! every bar of it came apart like magic, and down it tumbled, a bundle of sticks, with me in the midst of them. It reminded me of the Deacon's one horse shay. I crushed my hand and arm a bit, just trying to save myself. But that's all. It's nothing. It'll bejight in a day or two!" Mr. Haywaid glanced back at him with a strange wistful look of mingled distress and ad- miration. He surveyed those splendid limlx,, that vigorous young body, that eager, ardent", face, oh, so sadly, so regretfully. "Why, my boy," he said, with a bitter smile, "how irre- pressible you are! How uncrushable! The health and strength and youth in you will come out in spite of everything! What could ever have made me mistake such a lad as you for an instrument we could mold and model to our pat- tern? To think that even at such a depressing moment as this you had vitality enough left in you to vault the first Sve-barred gate you came to!" "I was ashamed of it myself," Owen an- swered, penitently. Mr. Hayward eyed him again, as they walked on toward the lodgings, a small boy toiling be- hind them, panting with the portmanteau. "So much life and energy!" he said ruefully, sur- veying his ward with admiring pity from head .■vf .'/ij'-'^f ■ ^^■1: \hi 810 UNDER SEALED ORDER3. to foot. "So much forai* and beauty^ Sa much vigor and impetus! What a pity it must be so! . . . But there's no other way out of it." He walked along in silonce a few yards fur- ther. Then he began vjuietly once more, in no unfriendly tone, "I'm glad you cruHhed your hand though, my boy. It may make things easier for us." Owen hadn't the faintest idea what Mr. Hay- ward was driving at; but ho walketl on by his friend's aido without another word till they reached the lodgings. Then the elder man led the way in throtigh the leafless garden, pausing for a moment by the gate to remark upon the cold beauty of the wintry view —the long lino of pollard willows by the river bank; the bare elms just beyond, in the hedgerow by the brook; the slender tvrigs of the birches, silhouetted by myr- iads against the twilight sky. "I've had a shot or two at them with the camera," he said, "in spite of frost and snow. In fact, I haven't let either weather or my accident interfere with m}' ordinary pursuits in any way. I've been out on the river every day since I came. Mr. Wilcox, my landlord here, keeps a canoe and a dingy which he lets out for hire. I've tried them both, and I find it really a most enjoj-able exercise these frosty mornings. " ' j < , ; ^ "Seems to take his mind off, poor gentleman," Mrs. Wilcox, the landlady, said to Owen confi- dentially, some minutes later, as she ushered him upstairs to his bedroom in the little country inn, half tavern, half farmhouse, overlooking the J^^JS >ER3. sauty! Sa much pity it must be way out of it." a few yards fur- anoe more, in no >u cruHhetl your ly make things i what Mr. Hay- balked on by his word till they B elder man led garden, pausing remark upon the -the long lino of k ; the bare elms r the brook; the ouetted by myr- 'I've had a shot ," he said, "in et, I haven't let terfere with m}' ['ve been out on ». Mr. "Wilcox, 16 and a dingy tried them both, joj'^able exercise lor gentleman," to Owen confi as she ushered le little country overlookiag the UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 311 river. "I'm glad you've come, sir, for he's bad- ly in want o' summat to interest him and amuse him. He's a- real nice gentleman, that's just what he is, and kindness itself to the children, and so thoughtful and that too: 'Mrs. Wlicox,' says he, when ho come fust, 'anythink '11 do for me; don't let me disturb your own arrangements in any way.' But he've talked a sight about you, sir, and been looking forward to your com- ing from the very fust moment he ever arrived. 'Ah, this'll do nicely for my young friend,' says lie, when he looks in at this very bedroom. He's main fond o' you, sir; one can see that with half a eye. Got neither chick nor child of bis own, nor yet a wife no more, he tells me; so it ain't no wonder he should think such a lot of you." For Mr. Hayward's sake, in spite of his de- pression, Owen tried that evening to be as cheer- ful as possible* He went down to dinner in the stiff little parlor — the usual bare room of the English -country inn, with coarse colored litho- graphs of red-coated hunters in full cry after a prodigiously brush-tailed fox for its sole decora- tions — and he even eat what he could, though the mouthfuls choked lum. Good simple Mrs. Wilcox had done her best in honor of 'Mr. Hay- ward's young gentleman," and was distressed to see her spring chicken despised, as she thought, and her mince pies unappreciated. But Owen couldn't help it. Conversation languished till the coffee came in. Then Mr. Hayward turned round, drew his chair to the fire, and began talk- ing to him, in Russian. I , ^ ■\l> W^S^«r?.«.j^»!a ^p.-*,' ««■ 312 UNDER BEAIiED ORDERS. Owen knew ^trhat that meant at once. It was the seal of secrecy. He bent forward to listen. Mr. Haywartl, paler still, spoke earnestly, pas- sionately. "My boy, my boy," he cried, in a Kudden out- burst of horror. "You've read your Bible well. Do you remember how Abraham offered up Isaac?" Owen's heart stood still within him. Ho knew it must come; but now it hful come at last, it was very, very terrible. Strong and bravo though he was, he was young and vigorouH, and in youth, to die, above all to be condemned to death, is simply heartrending. And then, there was lone. But he would never flinch from it. True Russian that he was in filwr, he would meet it, he determined, with Russian resignation and Russian fatalism. He bent his head in reply, and speaking low in the tongue of his ancestors, made answer in the words of Isaac, "Behold, my father, the fire and the wood." For he was ready for the sacrifice. Mr. Hay ward rose up and stood pallid before him. Tears gathered in his eyes. His voice was thick and broken. "Owen, Owen, my son," he cried, very low but sadly, "I'd give my own life if only I could let this cup pass from you. I've turned it over in my own heart, a hundred times over! I've wrestled with it and struggled against it, but I see no way out of it. If J didn't strike, others would; for you are not your own; you are bought with a price; and I am not the only depositary of the secret. I t ti | iar..i >ER3. •:./.(■' at once. It was )rward to listen. i earnestly, pas- in a Kudden ont- your Bible well, lam offered up him. Ho knew come at last, it )ng and bravo ■ and vigorous, » be condemned ig. And then, Id never flinch was in fiber, he , with Russian n. He bent his f in the tongue in the words of e fire and the the sacrifice, id pallid before res. His voice 3n, Owen, my adly, "I'd give (t this cup pass I my own heart, restled with it see no way out would ; for you ht with a price ; y of the secret. UKDER SEALED ORDERS. Others have sharetl with me for twenty years this burden and this hope. Others have h(5ard from time to time all the chaucos and changes of the game as it went. Thoy learned only the other day this app5'.r*»ir'W,Siflii,-^5i,»'-i^^ I.. fe-^ 814 UNDER RRALBD ORDBUft. "Nothing," Mr. Haywiird jvnHvverod, controll- ing his voice with difficulty. "Nothing, noth- ing, nothing. Only conio out with me to-mor- row morning. Ictin'tiloHcril)oit. CeHchonen-ln .se font, inaiH ne ae diaent pa.f. Ami the less you know hoforohtind in any way, tho better. / will arningo tho roat. U'h more merciful to. . . . My boy, my hoy, I do it ull to spare you!" Ho dropj)ed into a cbair, his bands chisped Iw- tween his knees, the very picture of misery. For half an hour moro thoy sat moodily silent. When Mrs. Wilcox camo in from time to time, indeed, Mr. Hay ward rjusod himself for tlie moment with an evident effort. He talketl as well as ho was able in a forced t;)ne of cheerfulness about the nothings of the day— peiple they knew in common, his latest phofcogpaphs, the morning's news, the local surroundings of Beulade. He'd taken some good negatives of those frost-bespan- gled treod. But as soon as tli(( landlady went out again, they relapsed with one accord into the same listless attitudes as before. Owen sat gloomily and looked at tho fii'e. Mr. Hayward sat gloomily and looked at Owen. At last bedtime camo. Mr. Hayward rose un- easily, and took a bedroom candle. Then he turned and gazed at his ward, his victim, ruth- fuUy. "Owen," he said in a solemn voice, "You're as dear to mo and as precious as if you were my own very son. I've watched and thought, watched and thought, watched and thought, night by Alight, how I could manage to save you from this hateful necessity. I've DKUH. r iHwerod, control 1- "Nothing, notli- with me to-mor- t. (Jen rh(ttien-IBR8. IV. ATH orning dawned, 1m), indood? Ho lo j)erfectly un- I next day. Mr. noreefully, self- it. No senteuco t t!ould have had 's eyes than that -ere, "Come out !" What could lored':' Wjw it ver, or poison V ught him down CO to kill him? to pass in the leu* in London, jre. where every nere presence a ed it over in his anywhere. He lor of death he : the more ter- UNDICR HAALRD ORDBK8. rihle. He knew only this much : he must die ti>-morr()W. And loiieV Of lone ho couldn't boar to think. Yet here, under the bodily Hpoll of Mr. Hay ward's coinrnandinti voice and Mr. Hayward'H compol- liiijif eye, ho c:)uld no friore dream of iliHolH«dience to his Chief than the soldier in the ranks can dream of mutiny l)eforo the very face of tho General. Even Tone herself was half forgotten for the moment. He tlumght most now of the pain and distress ho was causing Mr. Hayward Hour after hour pivssed by— the clock clanged them in turn— and still he lay awake, and tossed and turned, and wondered. Toward moraing, however, strange to say, youth and strength pre- vailed, and he dozed off into u deep sleep, as peaceful and undisturbed as th' sleep of child- hood. At eight, he woke with a start, rose in haste, much ashamed of himself, and went down to breakfast. It was the last -he would ever eat — for he must die t*M8 morning. Mr. Hayward was there before him, pale, haggard, unhappy. The miserable look on the man's face struck Owen dumb with pity. More even than for himself he felt for Mr. Hayward. He gazed hard at him for a minute or two before he could make up his mind to speak. Then he sjiid in a very soft and gentle voice, "I'm afraid you've had no sleep. You look dreadfully tried." Mr. Hayward turned round upon him with all tho fierceness of despnir. "Sleep!" he echoed. ♦'Sleep! How could I sleep at such a moment? i M '%&&t?m ^>^W*l«Sl^-'#.*w-'■*S!^t■^v'T'me»-'■»^«e^ri■««■■-■^!V'■i^ 'M . t-f/W^ f"*^" ^JnO."" 3- tm !l B? ' ^Hi' m ■■ 818 UNDER SBAL.ED ORDERS, i Jg.: Owen, I've passed twelve hours of speechless agony. I've fought more devils through the night th.'iu ever hell turned out. Ru.s8iu and the Cause have trembled and tottered like a quicksand beneath my feet. My faith has van- ished. . . , Owen, my boy, my boy, I'd give the world to keep you." Owen stared at him, cold to the bone. "I wish it could have been otherwise," he said slowly, witli bloodle.s8 lips. "But if it's needful I must die, I dia willingly, ungrudgingly." The elder man rose, crushed a piece of paper in his hand, and flung it into the fire with a bit- ter gesture. "Owen," he cried once more, "I'm ashamed of myself for saying it. I'm going back upon the faith and hope of a lifetime in saying it. I'm a devil for saying it. But, Owen, if all Russia in one jierson knelt tliere before me this moment, with one neck to strike, I swear to God— oh, it's horrible!— I'd lift my sword and strike her, willingly strike her, to save you!" Owen bent his head meekly as if to receive the blow. "If it must be, it must be," he answered in all reverence, all humble resignation. Mr. Hayward sat down and pretended to eat. He broke an egg, scooped it out, and fluu^' the contents in the fire. He drank off half a cup of coffee, that choked him as he swallowed it, and then thrust his bread in his pocket, unable to eat it. The very drink almost burned him, like molten metal. His face was livid and blue with his unspeakable misery. '■'-r I ORDERS.* '^ lours of speechless ievils through the out. Russia and .ud tottered like a My faiith has van- my boy, I'd give to the bone. "I thorwise," he said "But if it's needful ngrudgingly." 3d a piece of paper the fire with a bit- id once more, "I'm ig it. I'm going pe of a lifetime in saying it. But, IJerson knelt tljere one neck to strike, [•ribie!— I'dliftmy igly strike her, to as if to receive the t be," he answered signation. i pretended to eat. )ut, and fluu}.; the If off half a cup of swallowed it, and cket, unable to eat burned him, like ividand blue with ^ UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 819 !• As for Owen, he eat and drank, as a con- demned man will sometimes do on the morning of his execution, just to keep his courage up. That ghastly uncertainty about the mode of death chosen for him made him (juiver with ex- citement. It was so terrible, tao, that he couldn't even write a line to lone to tell her what must happen. He eat and drank in solemn silence, his guardian all the time looking on at him and groaning. After breakfast, Mr. Hayward left the room for a minute, and Mi-s. Wilcox came in to clear the table. "Poor dear gentleman," she said compa,ssionately. "He don't seem no better at all but rather a bit worse if anythink this morn- ing. I was in hopes when you come down, sir, it might 'a done him a power o* good to have fresh young blood about the house — as one may say — he's that dull and miserable. But, Lord, it ain't done him no good at all, as I can see; he's worse this morning nor ever I've known him — no color nor nothink. . And he tossed and" turned, and got up so in the night, and walked about his room, that Wilcox, he couldn't sleep for lying awake and listening to him. He says he do think Mr. Hayward must have a presenti- ment. . . . A. id well he may, poor dear gentle- man, for he ain't long for this world, that's cer- tain. I wish he'd take some o' that there Cura- tive Extract as saved my sister's lite after ten years in a decline, an' her every bit as bad in her time as what he is." "I'm afraid," Owen said gravely, "H wouldn't 'K\v t I ^nA 320 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. S' ja do him much gooil. His case is too far gone for Curative Extracts now. Nothing's likely to save him. He's past hope, Mrs. AVilcox." A minute or two later, Mr. Hayward came down again. He had on a rough pea-jacket and a flannel boating-cap. "This is how I go attired to take my walks abroad in the dingy," he said, with a ghastly attempt at some pretense of levity. "Are you gamo for a row, Owen, It's chilly but nice and clear on the water this morning; and I find nothing warms me up like a turn on the river." "All right," Owen answered, endeavoring to imitate his friend's forced cheerfulness. "I'm not very fit, myself, with my hand and arm like this; but it's best to use them, after all. It pre- vents stiffness." He followed Mr. Hayward, all wondering, to the bank, where Wilcox, the landlord, stood waiting with the dingy and the canoe, armed with a long-handled boat-hook. Mr. Hayward took his seat in the bigger of the two boats, and put the sculls in the rowlocks. "You'll try the canoe, Owen," he said. "Mind how you get into her. She's an unsteady little craft, lop-sided in a high wind. Topples over in a minute if you cough or sneeze or wink in har." . i ,, .,;. , Owen jumped lightly in. "Oh, I'm accus- tomed to canoes," he answered, now beginning to catch vague glimpses of what was coming next. "I can 4o just what I like in them. Stand up in them ; lie down in them ; dance a hornpipe if necessary. I never upset. They're as easy [)ER8. 3 too far gone for ig's likely to save icox." Hay ward came ;h pea-jacket aud I how I go attired dingy," he said, retenso of levity. . It's chilly but morning; and I e a turn on the , endeavoring to jrfulness. "I'm .nd and arm like fter all. It pre- II wondering, to landlord, stood e canoe, armed Mr. Hay ward > two boats, and "You'll try the low you get into aft, lop-sided in , minute if you Oh, I'm accus- now beginning at was coming in them. Stand ance a hornpipe ^hey're as easy r Ibd... UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 321 as A B C when once you know the ways of them." He took the paddle in his maimed right hand, and tried a stroke or two, double-handed. It hurt his wrist a good deal, but he pretended to disregard it. Wilcox gave them a push with the long-handled boat-hook out into mid-stream, where the current caught them ; and they glided away merrily down river toward Oxford. The Thames was, of course, deserted at that time of year. Recent frost on the canals had checked even the barge traffic. Not a soul stood about; not a boat was on the river. They made their way alone round a bend of the stream, be- tween silent banks, where the sedges drooped over the brink, heavily weighted with icicles. Bare pollard willows shut them in to the right, with beds of osiers whistling beyond in the win- try breeze. To the left were flooded water-mead- ows. It was a dreary prospect. All was cold and dim and dreary and desolate. At last Owen spoke. "Shall I - . ever come back again?" he a&ked in a tremulous undertone. Mr. Hay ward's voice was hardly aud5b!*> through choked sobs. "No, my bjy," he an- swered with an effort. "Or only to the church- yard." They rowed and paddled on then for a mile jor two in silence. It was a lonely reach of the stream. No houses stood in sight, and even the tow-path by the side lay still and deserted. Pres- ently, the dingy, which led the way by so^ie twenty yards, turned sharply to the right down i i 1 w m 823 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. J t I. a still lonelier backwater. It was a fairly broad channel, used to turn a paper-mill ; its bank was beset by tall flags and the dead stums of withered willow-herb. Owen followed in the canoe with a vague presentiment of coming ill. At the end rose a sound as of rushing waters. Mr. Hay ward spoke just once. His voice was now terribly calm and stern ; but it was the calm- ness of despair, the sternness of the inevitable. "There's a mill by the main stream just below," he said, in au inflexible tone. ' 'This backwater's the leet, over youder's the overflow. It leads to a dam on the loft; and beyond it I've found a very dangerous lasher." "I see," Owen answered blindly, paddling for- ward once more in tremulous silence. He could feel his own heart beat. He knew now what was coming. As they reached the cairn expanse at the top of the dam, Owen took it all in step by step, un- bidden. The water rushed deep enough over the lasher to float a small boat. The current ran fierce, and could engulf a man down in a canoe without difficult}'. Below lay a deep pool, swirl- ing and simmering with undercurrents. In its midst, the eddy from the lasher and the eddy from the flood-gates, mingling and battling as they met, made a perpetual turmoil, and churned up the white surface into petty whirlpools that could suck a swimmer down, even naked and in summer, but that would easily idrown him, clogged with clothes and boots, in icy winter weather. Mr. Hayward had chosen his place •'"H^ (DEBS. vaa a fairly broad lill ; its bank was stems of withered iu the canoe with r ill. At the end >rs. 5. His voice was t it was the calm- )£ the inevitable, ■earn just below," 'This backwater's flow. It leads to 1 it I've found a ily, paddling for- lence. He could knew now what :panse at the top step by step, un- » enough over the The current ran down in a canoe i deep pool, swirl- currents. In its )r and the eddy and battling as loil, and churned ■ whirlpools that even naked and sily drown him, 8, in icy winter shosen his place UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. 833 r I of execution well. It was a very natural spot for I !in accident to happen. Owen saw it at a glanoe. Boat drawn down by the swirl ; man upset and drowned there. He glanced at the seething eddies, and at the board by the side— "To Bathers— Dangerou3." Then he scanned hia own strong limbs, and turned with a meaning look to Mr. Hayward.' "It's lucky the water's ice-cold," he said in a calm deep voice, growing still with despair, "and that my hand's sj mangled. Otherwise, I don't think I could possibly drown in such a narrow space, even trying to do it. Those whirlpools aren't fierce enough. I swim too well. You see,' it's almost impossible, however much you may wish it, not to struggle and strike out when you feel yourself drowning. The water gets in your throat, and you kick away in spite of yourself. Besides, I'm so strong. I should flounder out, willy-nilly. But I'll see what I can manage. I'll do my best to restrain myself." , - ; •■;:-*';^^ ',■ -• --- "So do," Mr. Hayward made answer in the same inexorable tone, as of offended Russia. He rowed nearer and nearer and montioned Owen to pass him. ' ' Now— here !" he oried, pointing with one finger to a rush of green water in the very center of the lasher sliding smooth down its rapid slope into the wild thick of the whirlpool. i"When I cry 'Off,' let go your paddle, and— dovn the lasher full-pelt ! Upset boat at the bot- tom, and don't dare to swim a stroke — hold your hands to your side. Those are my orderr ' fly i t iV ' t i 834 UNDER SEALED OBDBRS. orders ! . . . Oh, heavens, I can't say the word . . . Owen, Owen, Owen." And indeed, as Owen, obeying bis gesture, moved out into the full current and paused with poised paddle, awaiting the fatal signal, -'Oflf," . sudden access of horror and awe seemed to have seized his Chief, who, even as he cried his name thrice, let the oars drop unexpectedly, clapped his two bauds to his ears as women and children |; \' often do when terrified, and sobbed aloud in his agony once more, "Oh, Owen, Owen, Owen!" Then, before Owen could say what was hap- pening, the whole spirit of the scene was sud- denly changed, as if by magic. A terrible awe came over him. Th -^ rush of the water, catch- ing the heavy dingy, no longer held back by the force of Mr. Hay ward's arms, hurried it for- ward like lightning. Down, down, it clashed madly over the inclined plane of the lasher. At the bo' torn, a rebellious undertow of white foam surged ?easelessly back, as if in anger, on tbd dark g'/een flow. Arrived at that point, the dingy capsized like a helpless hulk. The sculls disappeared all at once in the seething gulf. The boat floated oflf by herself, bottom upward. And Mr. Hay ward's sacred head — the most ven- erable and venerated in the Nihilist hierarchy — showed dark for one moment as a black spot on the white foam . . . R,nd then went under resist- lessly. At that appalling sight Owen burst like a child into a wild shout of horror. Mr. Hay ward up- set! Mr. Hay ward drowning! In a moment, DBRS. in't say the word ring his gesture, ; aud paused with ;al signal, J'Oflf," ve seemed to have lie cried his name pectediy, clapped nen and children »bed aloud in his Owen, Owen!" y what was hap- > scene was sud- A terrible awe the water, catch- er held back by 18, hurried it f or- lown, it clashed I the lasher. At w of white foam in anger, on tba that point, the ulk.' The sculls I seething gulf, bottom upward. I — the most ven- ilist hieriu-chy — a black spot on )nt under resist- >urst like a child r. Hayward up- In a moment, his own danger was forgotten forthwith in the profound realization of that irreparable loss to Russia and to humanity. Oh, how terrible he should be so hampered by that crushed and man- gled hand! But still, he must risk it. Gould he bring him out alive? Over! Over! and try for it! * ,. - '' '■'-' .^j^S;- •.»S' ,• ••»l . A - --t »-, - ^ 896 UNDKB SEAUED OROBR8. .:.>;■ ■.f.^i'^h;'' CHAPTER XXXV. DISCIPLINE. With a deadly cry of alarm, Owen steered his cauoe into the midut of the stream and dashed straight down the lasher after Mr. Hay ward. At its foot the canoe upset, and the paddle was • wrenched from his hands — he had expected that much. Next moment he found himself, in coat and boots and trousers, battling hard for dear life in the icy-cold water. Just at first, the mad current sucked him under with its force, and cast him up again as it willed, and sucked him down once more, helpless, like a straw bolow Niagara. He danced about, flung hither and thither at its caprice, half uncon- scious. But after a minute or two, as he grew gradually more used to the icy chill, he felt his limbs alive, and struck out with desperate strokes, in spite of the wounded arm that shot pain along its whole length at every fierce contraction of those powerful muscles. Even then, for a sec- ond or two, the natural instinct of self-preserva- tion alone inspired him. He plunged blindly toward the shore, in a wild fight with the WHi'Mm^am IDBRS. 'h--t u XV. Owen steered his 'earn and dashed r Mr. Hay ward. i the paddle was lad expected that 1 himaeif, iu coat hard for dear life ucked him under igain as it willed, 3, helpless, like a ced about, flung ice, half uncon- two, as he grew chill, he felt his lesperate strokes, b shot pain along e contraction of then, for a sec- of self-preserva- plunged blindly fight with the > , '/•■ t numbing eddies, without so much as ever re- n\eml)ering, under the deadening effect of the sudden shock on his nerves, the very existence of Mr. Hayward or his pressing danger. The water all round seemed to absorb and engross his entire attention. He was conscious only of deadly cold, and of the undertow that dragged him down, iu his clinging clothes, and of sharp pains in his arm that all but disabled him fur swimming. After very few such strokes, however, he came U himself suddenly. With another wild cry, the truth broke in upon him again. Mr. Hay- ward! Mr. Hayward! Drowning, drowning, drowning! In an agony of horror Owen Caza- let raised himself, as by a superhuman effort, head and shoulders above the cold flood, and peered around him, aghast, for his friend and guardian. Not a sign of the man anywher?! Not a mark ; not a token ! He must have gone under forever. At that thought Owen's blood ran colder within him than even the ice-cold water without. This was all his own doing! This was the outcome of his defection ! He was his ^Master's murderer. By his betrayal of the Cause it was he who had brought Mr. Hayward into such deadly peril! Help, help, oh, help! What would he not do to retrieve himself? But how do it? How save him? How repair this evil? Frozen without and within, but fiery hot at heart with this new sense of wild danger — not for himself, not for himself, but for the Chief I • if ia 898 UNDKR flKALBD OKDRRS. im of tho Cause, tlie man Ik* revoroil and respected above all men liviut; — Owen began tu Hwim nii once more, with fiery zeal, no longer Hhoroward now, but Btraight down the mid pool, in the direc- tion whore the eddies must have curried Mr. Hay ward. As he swam, his maimed ami at oarh stroke grew more and more unlw^arably painful. But still he persevered, striking out with lioth legs and with his loft, as best ho might, while tho right hung useless; battling the eddies in a fierce struggle) escaping with difficulty i'rom those great watery arms that tried to clutch at him from below with intangible fingers and whirl him resistlessly in their vor'.ex, and pull him under like a straw, to fling liim up again, a mangled corpse, on the milk-white foam some liundred yards further. It was a life imd-death grapple. Owen wrestled with the water as one might wrestle in fight with a human combatant. At last, as he fought his way out into one un- bubbling swash, that surged oozily to the tDp, a dark object in front of him rose for a second, un- certain, on the gurgling surface. Hair, hair! a man's head! It was him! Mr. Hay ward! With a mad impulse of joy Owen lunged out at it and seized it. He held it aloft in his grasp — propped it up again — caught and clutched.it. The water tried to wrest it awaj', but Owen clung to it and kept it. The left hand under the chin! Under the arm! Under the shoulder! He was alive Btill! alive! Breathing, choking, and sputter- ing! "Oh, Mr. Hayward! Cling tight to me!" .jt.wii — (DKR8. roil nnd respected begun tu Hwiiii nii lunger Hhoreward I pool, in thedirec- ) carried Mr. Hay ined ami at each ilM»arably painful. ng out with Irotli t ho might, while rig the eddies in a h difficulty from tried to clutch at Bfible fingers and • vor'.ex, and pull •; liin» up again, a white foam t»ome 8 a life- find-death the water as one uman combatant. out into one un- 3zily to the top, a for a second, un- . Hair, hair! a Hayward! With iged out at it and 8 grasp — propped (d.it. The water n clung to it and he chin ! Under He was alive ng, and sputter- : tight to me!" UNDEK SBAIilirD ORDRRS. Owen cried, between fear and ioy. "Not on my arms. Don't impede me! Let mo hold you under the chest I So. Now strikeout! To land! To landward I" Bat Mr. Hayward, half drowned, and nunilied through with the old, made answer in a voice road(»red half inaudible by the wattir in his wind- pipe. "No, no! Let me drown, my boy! Don t try tosavome! Don'tawim! Don't strike out! Let us both go down together!" At that moment as he steadied himself one of the sculls rose up, ltf>bbJng, by his side, on the water. Owou seized it, and made Mr. Hayward grip liis deadened white fingers round the thick part jf the shaft. Then, holding it himself at the same time, and striking out with his two strong thighs, he tiitMl with all his might to push his rescued friend shoreward. But Mr. Hay- ward, seeing what he meant, unclasped his hooked fingers and let the oar go suddenly. In a second he had g^ne under again, the water sucking him iu as the eddy from an oar sucks down a fioating sijeck of feathery swan'c-down. Once more Owen plunged after him, and dived with breath held hard into the ice-cold whirlpool. It was an aw- ful moment. He felt his wind fail him. The water was in his nostrils, his mouth, his lungs. Groping blindly in the dark, he caught a coat a second time. Then he clutched his man by the arm, and, with a terrible spurt, brought him back to the surface. Then, a deadly struggle began between the two men, the rescuer and the x"- , ^;-'*;^ 890 UNDER HEAMtD OKDRR8. -> m : i5- :^ rei'cuod, in the piBrcing cold WHter, Mr. HHy- Wiiri^ fought hard for lenvo to drawn if he choHe; he gripped ( )wen so tight he alnioHt drugged him under. Owou, on liis Hide, fought hard in rottirn to Have his friend 'h life, and all the ho|Kw of RiiHttia. His wounded arm got a fior^e wrench, too, in the souffle that made him scream aloud with pain, and all but unmanned him for the fight. But still he persevered. It was with difficulty ho kept himwelf up, and floundered on througli the water, fighting his way every inch with Mr. Hay ward presseil close like a bahy to his bosom. Thank Heaven for one thing — he was a wonderful swimmer. The very hojHslessnees of the case 8e<>iiiiMl to instil of itself fresh force into his UniUs, Tlie stnig^le was so hard, the odds n»; ist him so enormous. With clothes, and boots, and in that numbin?? cold, maimed of one arm, he yet stemmed the deadly stream, and brought out tlie drowning man, against his own will, to the i)ankside. By that time his force had almost failed him. But still, with a desperate spring, lie lifted him- self ashore, by leaning on his woundoii right md vaulting out of the water, while with his left he retained his grasp on Mr. Hayward's collar. After that, he dragged his companion unceremoniously to the bank, and laid him there, panting and .shivering, a torn and drag- gled thing, in a great wet mess of close and clinging clothing. Mr. Hayward looked up at him, faintly, through a dim mist of Watery eyes. :s-£i**£S&*5«i^^;4^i^ ■1?t- DRRH. iTHter, Mr. Hny- n»wn if he ohoBe; iioHt drugged him ht hard in rottirn all the ho|His of b a fierce wrench, lim Bcrortm aloud ined him for the 1. It WH8 with nd floundore'l on I way every inch Be like a bahy to ne thing — he whh '^ery hopelessnefM itself fresh force was BO hard, the I. With clotheB, cold, maimed of ftdly stream, and against his own most failed him. g, lie lifted him- woiinded right , while with his Mp. Hayward's 1 his companion , and laid him . torn and drag- 388 of close and it him, faintly, eyes. UNDER HRAI.RD ORDERS. 881 mUm riY;'^i#iy fir ' "What did you do that for, my boy?" he asked, in a ttort of despairing expostulation. "I couldn't let you droun, could I?" Owen answered, doggedly, leaning over him all drip- ping. "And I would have lot //om.'" Mr. Hay ward retorted, pulling hiraself togetljerimd sitting up, the very pieturo of blank and dismal despair, in his wot, icy clothes, with the cold wind whistling through them. "But that was different!" Owon answered. "I had brokcni the bond, and deserved the penalty. I was waiting there, ready for the word of command. When that word came, I'd liave gone over and drowned myself then and there without a moment's hesitation," »' "Owen! you are a man!" Mr. Hay ward cried, raising himself. Owen stood up in his turn, and grasped the cold hand hard. "Now run back to the village," he cried, "as quick and fa«t as you can go. Don't delay an- other minute. Our Russia has need of you!" He turned to tbo brink himself in his dripping- things, and looked wistfully at the water. It was hard to die — hard to leave lone; but the Cause demanded it. As he stood and gazed, Mr. Hayward laid his hand on his pupil's shoulder with the old kindly weight. "My boy, what are you going to do?" he cried, startled. "You won't surely try again? You'll come back to the inn with me?" But Owen only gazed harder at the great gur- rrl-f '.1 -j-'4 8S2 UNDER SBALBD ORDBRS. glin^ eddies from which he had just with such difficulty and danger emerged. The cold hand uow numbed him. "No, no! That was to save your life," he said, with chattering teeth. "I know my duty, I hope. Go, go — and be safe. When once you're well out of sight I shall do as I ought; I shall obey my orders." "Owen!" Mr. Hayward cried, holding him tight. "Never! Never! You can't! You've got no- orders. I haven.' « given them yet! Do as you are told. Hold back. Disc' pline's dis- ciplint. This isn't what I bid you. It was to be at the word 'Off,' and I've never spoken it." "Well, you've spoken it now, then!" Owen answered, half mad with cold and despair. "I hope I'm no coward. I won't take advantage of having saved your life against tremendous odds 1o save my own against your express orders. Qood-by, Mr. Hayward. I've beeu a useless son, an unprofitable servant. I've served Russia ill. This is the only thing now. . . . Good-bj'I Good-bv! Give my love to lone!" And without one moment's delay, tearing him- self madly from the man's grasp, he plunged in once more into the icy-cold pool that gurgled and bubbled in uoadly tide before hinl. True soldier to the last, he obeyed his sealed orders. ■* Ij'< had just with such 3d. The cold hand save your life," he "I know my duty, When once you're as I ought; I shall cried, holding him "ou can't! You've iven them yet! Do c. Disc' pline's dis- »id you. It was to re never spoken it." now, then!" Owen Ad and despair. "I 't take advantage of ist tremendous odds our express orders. I've been a useless I've served Russia low. . . . Good-by! [one!" 1 delay, tearing him ■ frasp, he plunged in ool that gurgled and ( hinl. ) obeyed his sealed U9r%f ' UKDER SEALED ORDERS. «r*?wTt*v'>: 833 '«MViiS?-' '■t^f^'ff*^.- .»-t5i¥P-'S?»3H?f »'»i^ ■S*|j-«-' :#|t; ■■-_■" ■*■■■ 1 H« •''■'■ , w. f CHAPTER XXXVI. ; I !f.j HOC BRAT IN VOTIS. Mr. Hayward stood aghast. Mr. Hayward paused and hesitated. Not in doubt; not in sus- pense ; but in pure bodily shrinking from a second fierce conflict with that deadly water. For some instants, he gazed at the swirling cui-reut, irreso- lute. Then, lifting his hands to dive — for the bank shelved sheer, and the bottom was many feet deep inshore — he plunged boldly in after him, and struck out with all his might in the direction where Owen had disappeared beneath the surface. It was no easy task, however, to find him; for this time, the lad, as he had no life to save, bore his first instructions in mind, and allowed his wounded arm to be idle by his side, without struggling or floundering. Nay, more, as far as he was able, being now spent with swimming, he let himself go like a log, and drift under with the current. It had whirled him away at once, •lown blind channels under water. But Mr. Hayward was by this time quite as much in earnest as Owen himself. The instinct of sav- ing life, which comes upon all of us in any great '& mmm Mnti^A ■*«*^P Wta. n |:>^ VNDBR SEALED ORDBRtf. crisis, had got the better of him, involuntarily. He couldn't let that boy drown, be he traitcrr or no traitor — Owen, his own Owen, his heart's fondest pride, his disciple and his friend, tlie child that was ten thousand tin es nearer and dearer than a son to him. With *^e mad erorgy of despair, he dived and plunged through the greedy eddies, letting the current suck him under iind tjss him up again as it would, but filled all the while with one devouring thought— the ab- solute necessity for bringing back Owen. He had sent him like a ciiminal to his death— his own dear, dear buy; and now the deed was done, he would have given his own life a dozen times over to bring him back again in safety. At last, by a miracle of keen vision, such as cccurs at supreme moments to high nervous or- ganizations, he caught sight of a dark object far below in the water — down, down, deep down — carried along in full torrent. IIis heart throbbed at the sight. Diving once more with all his force, he plunged under and clutched at it. Ovvon, half conscious still, half insensible with the cold, tried to slip from his grasp — that wtvs a point of honor. He struggled to be free, and to drown. With an effort he eluded the eager hand that clutched him, and went under a second time, borne headlong by the rapids. "Oh, God! he's drowning!" Yet again Mr. Hay ward dived — again canght him by the collar, held him firm at arms-length, and brought him out — chilled, inert and motionless, to the surface. Thir. time, Owen's eyes were fast shut; his ..-.^■.j<'iS^;^^.^*m=Y^«^*s(f&-'^si^,.:/.^'^iii-. )BRd. UNDER SEALED ORDEREt. 33S xi, involuntarily. I, be he traitor or iven, his heart's i his friend, the in 88 nearer and ) *ae niadepprgy ?ed through the t suck him under uld, but filled all thought— the ab- )ack Owen. He to his death — his e deed was done, ife a dozen times 1 safety. 1 virion, such as high nervous or- a dark object far vn, deep down — IS heart tlirobbed 3re with all his clutched at it. insensible with rasp — that wtus a o be free, and to id the eager hand under a second ids. "Oh, God! Mr. Hayward the collar, held •rought him out to the surface. fast shut; his cheeks were deadly white; his lips looked deep blue; his chest and lungs moved not. Mr. Hay- ward had hard work to hold him up with'one hand, a seemingly lifeless corpse, above the wa- ter's edge, while with the other he struck out fiercely for the high bank beyond him. It was a hopeless struggle. How could he think to reach land? Numbed, damped, and half drov...ed, with that listless dead weight poised all prone on the water's brim in front of him, Mr. Hayward plunged and fought and bat- tled slowly on with what life was left in him — and felt all the while the water sucking him down, irresistibly down, toward the race of the paper mill. Ho was losing ground each minute, and gasping hard now for breath. The water filled his ears, i. ostrils, his throat. He could hardly hold up against it. Yet in an agony of despair, he still bore Owen aloft, and kept the lad's mouth just a hair's breadth above the sur- face with superhuman energy. He couldn't have endured one minute longer. He felt himself going; his e3'^Gs closed mistily. But just then, as he gashed and plunged and knew all was up, a voice rang clear from ten yards in front, "Keep him afloat there, maister. We're almost on 'im. That's right! Catch the pole! You 'ang on. I'll 'cok 'im." Mr. Hayward looked up, and saw dimly be- fore him two men in a punt, one holding out a pole, while the other lunged toward them with a friendly boat-hook. The drownin; • man seized the pole eagerly. 336 UNDBR ^BALBD ORDKRd. ft " f .• and still clutching Owen's coat collar, put the boat-hook through and through it, and let the men in the punt haul their burden in carefully. Then he scrambled into the boat himself, and, dripping from head to foot, sat down in the bot- tom, cold, wretched, and shivering. "Is he dead?" he asked, in a hollow voice, and with chattering teeth, feeling for the first time in his life like an actual murderer. One of the men turned Owen over with that irreverent carelessness so characteristic of his class in dealing with a corpse, or what they be- lieve to be one. "Drownded, I take it!" hean- swered, feeling the motionless pulse, and then the silent heart. "Not a stir or a stroke iu 'im. Anyhow, he ain't breathing just now, as I can feel. But there's no knowing with these 'ere cases o' wot they calls suspended animation. Bringin' 'em back again to life, that's more like wot it is. We'll take 'im clown to mill and see wot we can do with 'im." Mr. Hayward bent over the pale face, all hor- rorstrnck in heart at this too terrible success of his scheme and his orders. "Oh, don't say he's dead!" he cried aloud, wringing his hands. "Don't tell me he's drowned. You'll break my poor heart worse than it's broken already, if you tell me that. Oh, Owen, Owen, Owen, Owen!" The second man looked on with that curious philosophical calm that belongs to the waterside. "We seed the dingy a comin' down stream, bot- tom upwaa^," he volunteered slowly, punting it collar, put the ii it, and let the flen in carefully, oat himself, and, down in the bot- vering. "Is he voice, and with ) first time in his tt over with that acteristic of his or what they be- take it!" hean- pulse, and then p a stroke iu 'im. ist now, as I can with these 'ere aded animation. that's more like I to mill and see •ale face, all hor- errible success of h, don't say he's ^ing his hands. You'll break my aken already, if I, Owen, Owen, rith that curious to the waterside, own stream, bot- slowly, punting ' r W, '^^^W(^^'^fi:*^^^^''t ?^^'' UNDER SEALED ORDERS. away as he spoke; "and I says to George, says I, 'Why, George, that's Wilcox's dingy, sure- ly 1' And George, be says to me, 'That's so,' says he, 'Jim. Somebody's upset, for certain.' And then ccme the canoe turned topsy-turvy ae you may term it; and says I to George, 'Blest,' says I, 'if it ain't them folks up to Wilcoxes'. Don't know how to handle a boat, seems, not a bit they don't. Gone clean over lasher.' So I out with the punt, and I up with the pole, and comes down, on the lookout for savin' a lifo — thinkin' at ktist to earn a honest suv- verin!" Mr. Hay ward was in no mood just then to re- flect to himself upon the man's frank sordidness of nature. He, who knew men and women so well, could at least feel no surprise at such utter callousness. But he was too full of his own grief to find room for anything else. He only cried aloud, in a perfect paroxysm of remorse and wounded affection, "If you can bring that boy to life again, you shall have, not a sover- eign, but fifty guineas!" TliG man Jim raised his head and opened his month and eyes. He could hardly believe his ears. He repeated slowly, "Fifty guineas!" But the other man cried hastily, "Pole ahead to the mill, Jim! He've got some life in him still." He felt the cold heart carefully. "We might bring him to yet with brandy and blank- ets and such. Pole ahead for dear life ! 'Taiu't every day o' the week one gets the chance o' earnin' fifty guineas!" -.■-■m»i.«tea,'iif>. fiiiiifcJiiwa^lSto iSi ■«Wlt liMMl .♦'. Vi ':i UNDER lIsALBD ORDBRg. | i N»|li*yijtp»-»ii Obedient to the word, Jim poled ahead with a will, Mr. Hayward gtill crouching cold on the bare floor of the punt, and leaning over Owen, who lay calm and white as a corpse, with open, sightless eyes turned staringly upward. In a minute or two they reached the staithe or little millside landing-place. The two mer jumped out, and with no more ceremony than they would have used to a bale of waste paper, lifted Owen between them. Mr. Hay ward followed them into the mill-keeper's house. There, all in a moment, was confusion and bustle. The in- mates, well used to such scenes, got to work immediately. "There's fifty guineas on it, mother," Jim murmured to his wife, and the woman nodded. They brought down blankets iu hot haste, and stripping ofF Owen's wet cloth- ing, laid him down in them, well warmed, be- fore the kitchen fire. Then they poured brandy down his throat, and tegan to move his arms up and down with a measured motion. "Regular way to bring 'em to," the man G«orge said calmly. "Same as you breathe yourself, on'y slower. Fill the lungs each go. Directions of the R'yal 'Umane Society." For twenty minutes they rubbed and chafed, and worked his arms continuously. Mr. Hay- ward, loosely wrapped himself in the mill keeper's ulster, sat with chattering teeth look- ing on in blank despair. Owen was dead, dead, dead — and all was worse than lost to him ! He had meant to let the boy drown-^. Directions of )ed and chafed, sly. Mr. Hay- f in the mill •ing teeth look- was dead, dead, it to him ! rown-^KP.8. UKDBB SBALBD ORDERS. 341 ruised his white Hay ward I" he m. ITATK. medy. There's lan the drowned and wretched, ind watched for trestle bed they 5 had tried, and to aid and abet lan at the paper ice to the, Wil- )d. He'd catch em nasty damp I't hear of mov- s certain of his ithing was once deep sleep that 9 time while he i and attentive oderly. 9 to a splendid oonstitatioii. The drowning itself wouldn't have hurt him, the doctor said, but for the cold and tile shock; his dangerous symptoms were those ' of a nerv^ous crisis. And he was ill froni the : .strain. They moved him two days later from the paper mill to the inn; where, under good Mrs. Wilcox's motherly care, he made gradual progress. To the people in the village, of course, it was only the common and familiar boat acci- dent. Young fellow like 'im ought to a knowed by this time how to manage a canoe ; an' a did too, come to that; on'y the old 'uu missed his tip- "* and went over lasher, and the young 'un, tryin* to save 'un, got upsot hisself and went floun- derin' about after 'un, in the ice-cold water. Tliem current do set strong by they floodgates • above paper-mill. Easy enough to drownd one- self there, even at the best o' times, let alone in f reezin' cold winter weather. The day after the "acciflent" Mr. Hay ward dispatched a penitent telegram, nominally to Sacha, but really of course to lone. "Owen upset in canoe in the river and nearly drowned. I helped to rescue him. He is now recovering and doing very* well. Gome down, if you like, with lone, to nurse him.'' That same night, needless to say, the two girls were by his side. lone met Mr. Hay ward with , a natural look of the profoundest suspicion. But Mr. Hay ward, ever gentle and courteous as of old, half disarmed her wrath at once by taking her aside into the next room, and holding her hand in bis while he said to her frankly, "Little t mmxajHuutm I UNDER HKALKU ORDBRti. daiightor, I lovo liitu hh if I wori< his own father. Ami, for liis rtuke, I 1 >vo you, too, lonu. If only yon knew nil, yuu vvonld know I war! really tiy- iag tu Have him. But when it caino to the i>oint, I couldn't stand it myHolf, and, o\m\ against his own will, I was coniiii 11( 1 to roscnie him. Though nii'.v that I've rcBi-uci him, tlio orig- inal danger Btiil RturoH me in the face. Lno, it's not mo. It's uwwmhled Knssia. T's'o saved him from <.ne death, only to hand him over in the end to another and a worwo one." lone looked at him, aghast. It was moro than she could understand. "Mr. Hayward," ; he said, not unkindly — for who could l)o ii'jrry with the luanV he had sucli suftering on hi» face, such infinito ruinorso and pain in his weary eyehalls — "I don't know wliat to make of it all. I'm a HJmpl' 'inglish girl, at heart, in spil ■ of my Greek lud Norwegian blood; brought up in L' Ion and in a country village; and I can't gfrasj) all these strange things when I find my- seli broiiglit face to fai-e with your RuHsian nihilism. But this mystery appall me. You must toll me what it all means. What is this strange danger that hangs over Owen?" Mr. Hayward paused and g.i/od at her. He was holding her hand still— that soft round little hand with the dimples at the joints — and he smootlud it with his own, very gently and ten- derly'. TLoy were contrasted, those two, like Russia and England. Ruric Brassoff's was thin, hard, iron-looking, virile; lone Dracopo- li's was delicate and rounded, and the soft flesh BRS. his own father. ), lono. If only [ ivuri really ti\ - vino to the iwint, 1, oven agiiiiiHt to ro8(Mie him. him, the orig- tho ini'a. L no, aia. I's'osuvfil ml him over in no." t w;i8 mofo than ^layward," f^lie d ho i'lfTfry witli m hiti tHoe, sucli woury eyeballs if it all. I'm a in 8pil.> of my brought up in !?o; and I can't hen I find my- your IliiHBian [mU me. You What is this wen?" jd at her. He loft round little joints — and he gently and ten- hose two, like liiussoff's was lone Dracopo- i the soft flesh UNDER SRALKf* *>RDBR8. r ■ stood out on it, dimphxl, ho that it yielded to Uie I touch like a jwvdded book ct)ver. "My diiugh- I ter," the stern man waid slowly in .is silvery voice, "you're the onU' person alivo — man, wo- man, or child — who i .or yet penetrated the se- cret of my existence. And now I BupiM)S<' in time, you'll be Owen's wife. What use in con- cealing from you what you must know here- after? Sooner or later, I nuist have an explana< tion with Owen; must tell him the difficulties that lie in my way, and the means I shall iiso or try to use in the effort, the hopeless effort, to nieet and avert them. When that explanation comes — lone, it's promising a great deal; it's breaking all the vows and oaths by which our saciety is bound; it's exposing the secrets of the Cause to a woman and an, outsider; but . . . I trust you so much, you shall bo present and hear it." He said it with such an air of distinguished honor conferred that lone herself couldn't help feeling, deeply complimented. "Thank you," she said, in reply. "But, Mr. Hayward, one thingi You must answer me that, or how can I hold your hand? 'Did you, or did you not, upset him into the water?" Mr. Hayward withdrew his hand quickly, as if he had been stung. His face, already lined and pallid with suspense, showed every sign of acute pain at the bare suggestion. "lone!" he cried, drawing back. "Oh, how can you? How can you 1 How much you misunderstand me, if you think such a question worth asking ! How „'u,vMfMS^ P^&iMii&i ■t 844 UNDER HKALKD ORDERS. mucli you tniHUDderHtiind him, if you think such a step would over be necessfiry!" "Thou he tried to drown hiniHolf of Ihh own accordy" lono oxchiinied, bridling up und deeply stirred with liornr. v*.£.A •'Wiiittuid (irik him," Mr. Htvyward nnHWorod, ••Hp'U bo l)etter scon. He'll bo able to tell you, All I oan pay mywolf just at present is this: If I advised him to take such an unhuppy course, it was only to save him — and you, too, through him — from greater pain and worse disgrace in the end; from which I don't know now how I'm ever to save you." loue lo )ked ut him fixedly. The man's drawn face was wiung by despair and evident anguish. Sho gave him her hand once more. "I believe you, Mr. Hayvvaid," she said simply. Some- how, it wiis impossible to bo near that strange being and not to sympathize with him for the moment He had tried to drown her Owen — of that lone felt sure, and yet— and yet he had done it, ahe vaguely recognized herself, in no un friendly spirit. He might be a murderer, per haps, but at least he was a murderer with the best possible intentions. It was dreadful for simple English people like her and Owen to get mixed up with these iuoom- prehonsible and too complex Russian revolution- ists. Yet wh.it could they do? He was born to it. It was his destiny. Mr. Hayward stroked his face with one in- scrutable hand. There was blank despondency in the action; lone felt it and was sorry for him. rf"»»S-lt5ffi.^-iM--».-.fl!>K»-S'S,V* w - [>RR8. if you think such iiHolf of his own ug up Hnd deeply ywjird nnsworod. I able to tell yon. !8ent is this: If I ihiippy course, it ju, too, through I'orse disgrace iu >w now how I'm rhe man's drawn avidont anguish, lore. "I believe simply. Some- oar that strange ith him for the n her Owen — of yet he had done self, in no un 1 murderer, per urderer Avith the dish people like ith these iiicom- isian revolution- He was born to ;e with one in- nk despondency fl sorry for him. UNPRR HRAI.RD ORnBRg. 846 Then he imced up and down the room once or twice in silence. At last he H(>oko agtiin. His words came in a rush like a summer torrent. "My child," ho said, bursting forth, "if you know all, you would pity me; ah, yes, you would pity me; oh, how you would pity me! A fort- night ago, I saw myself within measurable dis- tance of the realization of the hopes of a Hfotime. I was glad. I was exultant. I was full of joy and triumph. At that very moment, when I wrote to Owen to tell him of our great good hick — to bid him rejoice with me, to assure him of victory — there came in return such a knockdown blow that I thought no blow on earth could ever be harder — no fate more terrible. Fortune, 1 said to myself, had done the very worst she could possibly have in store for mo. My cup was dashed down n« I held it to my lips. Owen, my own boy, whom I loved more dearly than I loved my life — for whom I'd sacrifice everything — whom I'd watched and guarded, and taught since he was a baby in arms, just able to lisp his own name in Russian — Owen, Owen went back upon me. It was he and no other. He told me that for the love of a girl he'd wrecked our hopes and plans irretrievably. . . . And did I hate that girl for it? . . . No, lone, no; for Owen's sake, I loved her — and I love her! I love her!" He laid his hand like a father on the loose chestnut curls. lone felt a thrill run responsive through and through her. The man's eye was aa one inspired. His lip quivered convulsively. •■ 'Jaifm&V^-^ m-..Vl^1>i^'> - ™w'-^j u II tf "l^toi I ^0 • f I—' i ».j ^ '??S!*:'- m i 846 UNDER SBAI^D ORDERS. '■ He wont on yet more quickly. "Tbat was bad, little daugliter," he sfiid, still fondling the chest- nut curls — and lone hadn't tlie heart even to try to prevent him. "That was bad. That was a fall, a relapse, a backsliding. Still, though my soul was broken, I had one tiling left — and that was Owen. All my hopes for him were gone — crushed, annihilated, shattered. But Owen him- self—and only Owen — was loft The boy, not the liberator; my spn, not my instrument. . . . I had hoped for a meusiah who would free poor Russia. I was left with a dear child — a mere handsome young Englishman. "But I loved him still ! Oh, lone, how I loved him! As the hopes within me fell, crushed, so the aflfections quickened. I said to myself, 'I've loved Russia, like a fanatic, all my weary long life^ but Owen and Russia have grown so inter- twined and mixed up in my ideas — so one in my inmost soul— so indistinguishably blended — that now, oh. God, I don't know which is which. ' I lovo Owen in the end even bettor than Russia, There he stands, concrete, visible, a definite tan- gible somebody for one's heart to take hold of. I loved him with all my soul. When it came to the pinch, T couldn't bear to lose him." He paced up and down once niSre. Then he returned to her, all on fire. His eyes glowed ter- ribly, "lone," he cried, in his despair, "I can't tell you all now. It would burn my very heart out. But this much I will tell you, let Owen tell the rest. I felt if he must die, I ^ould never outlive him. Not a day, not an hour, not a min- RDKRS. . "That was bad, fondling the chest- e heart even to try bad. That was a Still, though my ing left— and that ■ him were gone — . But Owen him- >ft. The boy, not nstrument. , . . would free poor ear child — a mere , lone, how I loved e fell, crushed, so id to myself, 'I've dl my weary loug i^e grown so iutor- eas — so one in my ■bly blended— that liich is which. ' I Jttor than Russia. Ae, a definite tan- •t to take hold of. When it came to ie him.'* ) m5re. Then he 3 eyes glowed ter- 1 despair, "I can't rn my very heart ell you, let Owen die, J oould never I hour, not a min- tTNDEB SRAX,ED ORDBttS. 347 ute, not a second ! He was a part of my life, a lirsb of my body. Oh, lone, it's a sin, it's blas- phemy to say so — but I found, when I put it to the touch — oh, shame — I found ... he was far mere to me than even Russia. I fancied to myself I had lived all my life for Russia alone; but I found that day my boy was far more to me in the end than c ven Russia. "They would kill him. They would torture you. They would keep you in suspense for months and months, lone. Better an easy death for him at my hands than that. Or not even at my hands; at his own, but beside me, in my company. I meant him to go over first. 1 meant at once to follow him. But when I saw him drowning, and was drowning myself, my heart failed within me. I couldn't bear to per- mit it. Let them do what they worJd, I must save Owen's life for the moment — for you. 1 must prolong it as much as I could, I must bring my boy back — for a time — to the girl thf^i; loved him." "Thank you," lone said low. In some dim, instincti i?^e way she was beginning now to un- derstand aim. Mr. Hayward clasped his hands hard in un speakable horror. "But that's not all yet," he cried. "We're not out of the trouble. As I said to you in Victoria Street, so 1 say to you still, we're only beginning. I must put my wits to work now — for what do you think, lone? Why, to undo my life's work; to annul my life's plans; to prevent the success of my own il M^ • 4 ./,ti 1.' 348 UNDER SEAI^BD ORDBRfi, elaborate precautions. I had arranged every- thing beforehand so that a terrible punishment should fall upon myself or upon Owen, as the case might be, if either of ue forgot our troth or proved untrue to our engagements. I had made it as sure as any sentence of any court on earth could be made sure. Now, I must brace myself up to see whether and how I can shatter my own hopes and destroy my own handiwork. . . . And I fear it's impossible. I laid my plans too deep; 1 dug my pit too widely. . . . But for that, and for that alone, I must live in future . . , Oh, lone, dear child, see the extremity of degradation to which you two have reduced me. I meant, if need were, to sacrifice Owen to Rusoia. I mean now, in the end — to sacrifice Russia to Owen." He bont his head down between his arms in an agoay of shame and remorse at that painful confesuion. To him, it was apostasy, lone couldn't be angry with him now. His case was too miserable. He had tried to play an abstrac tiou against, his human aflfections, and the hu- man affections had proved in the long run a great deal too strong for him. Ur BRP. irranged overy- ble liimishment )n Owen, as the •got our troth or ts. I had made T court on earth ist brace myself shatter my own iwork. . . , id my plans too . . . But for i live in future. e the extremity have reduced kcrifice Owen to id — to sacrifice en his arms in at that painful ipostasy. lone His case was lay an abstrac s, and the hu- he lung run a UNDER SBIALED ORDBBS. 849 ' CHAPTER XXXVIII. BAD NKWS FROM KIEFF. Two or three days later Owen was well enough to be removed to the flat oflF Victoria Street. Mr. Hay ward went up to town with him, in a saloorf carriage, and the new invalid was put, when he arrived there, into Blackbird's bedroom. Round the wall, as a fitting decora- tion, Blackbird had painted with her own hands a poetical inscription — four favorite lines of hers from Swinburne's "Hymn to Proserpine": " Thou art tnore than the day or the morrow, the sea- sons that hiugh or that weep-, For these giva joy and sorrow; but thou, Proserpina, sleep. Thou art more than the Gtods who number the days of our temporal breath; For these give labor and slumber; but thou, Proser- pina, death.'' Owen watched them all morning from the bed where they laid him, but in the afternoon he was allowed to move in to the drawing-room sofa. Not that he was really ill ; severe as the shock had been, his vigorous constitution recovered from it quickly; but Mr. Hay ward, always de- voted to his ward, was as careful over him now 850 UNDER SEALBD ORDBKS. US a hen with one chicken. Even lone herself had no cause to complain of any want of con- sideration on Mr. Hay ward's part for Owen's safety and Owen's absolute comfort. He fussed about as if his life depended on making Owen well and keeping him so always. He had but one thought in life now — his boy's happiness, which included, of course, lone's. And Russia? Poor Russia? Well, Russia was crushed and pressed out within him. An awful blank reigned in her place in his heart. His face was one picture of despair and dejec- tion. But the urgent need now was to provide for Owen's safety. That care weighed hard on Mr. Haj'ward's soul. For he had plotted beforehand against Owen's life by every means in his power. The very day after they arrived at V4ctbria Street he sent Blackbird and Sacha out into tho Park for a walk, that he mighf have time for a private talk with lone and Owen. So strange a talk few drawiug-rooms in Pim- lico can often have listened to. He began, and told them the truth from the very beginning. One only fact he suppressed — his own identity with Ruric Brassoff. All tho rest he told them in full — making -a clean breast of it, as it were, both to Owen and lone. He tol-d them all he knew about the St. Petersburg SelistoflFs ; how he had rescued the two childreji, twenty years since and more, at the risk of his own life, and smuggled them out of Wilna ; how he liad brought them to England and placed ittii DBHS. Iveh lone herself any want of con- part for Owen's ifort. He fussed n making Owen ys. He had but boy's happiness, s. Well, Russia within him. An ace in his heart. 3spair and dejec- is to provide for bed hard on Mr. atted beforehand ns in his power, ved at Victoria cha out into the have time for a J- rooms in Pim- > truth from the he suppressed — assoff. All tho g "a clean breast and lone. He St. Petersburg le two children, I the risk of his of Wilna; how nd and placed UNDBR SBALBD ORDERS. 3&1 them with Miss Cazalet as their mother's half- sister; how he had come back, three years later, !ind struck that strange bargain on those mys- terious terms with poor, unconscious Aunt Julia; and how he had supported Owen ever since, in every comfort and luxury — on Nihilist monej'". There he paused and wiped his brow. "And that money itself," he said, slowly, in very remorseful tones, "do you think, my chil- dren, I got it for nothing? do you think there was no security, no collateral guarantee for it? Ah, that's not the way we of the circle went to work on our undertakings. All was arranged and audited, as if it were public funds, with the minutest accuracy. Part of it I earned myself, to be sure, and contributed willingly out of my own abundaoi^e; for Mortimer & Co, has always been a paying business. But part of it c^me from Russia, poor bleeding Russia; from trusty friends of the Cause, in Petersburg or Moscow; and, for that, guarantees were both given and exacted. Three persons besides myself know on whom the fund was spent. One of them is in Paris, the two others are in Russia." "And do they alone know of your plans?" Owen asked, in breathless suspense, from the sofa where ho lay. "Not they alone. No. Many subscribers to our circle know the main outline of the facts; they know we were bringing up a young man in England — Sergius Selistoff's son — to follow in his father's footsteps as a martyr to Russia. More than that; they know, also, that Sergius Sells- 'j#,;i4^^>r»t.-;i«B» ' ^mDi^/M^f^'i^d i^ 862 UNDER SBALTH OKPEHS. toff's SOU was to obtain ; no post in a foreign capitKl whence be migbt strike a great blow at the Curse of Russia. But what they dou't know" — and Mr. Hayvvard lowered his voice confidentially — "what they don't know is this: the assumed name and present address of Ser- gius Selistoff's son, for whom they have done so much, and from whom they expect such marvels. Three people alone, besides myself and you two, knew that secret till lately : four know it now ; Madame Mireff is one of them; the others, of course, are wholly unknown, even by name and fame, to you." "Madame Mireff is a friend!" lone exclaimed, with womanly instinct. "Perhaps so. Who knows?" Mr. Hay ward answered, bowing his head in a sudden access of shame. "If J have fallen away, who may not fall away, for personal motives, from poor, help- less Russia? But the other three hold each in their possession a sealed envelope. That sealed envelope contains their orders. It is to be opened, in earh case, oii either of two contingencies — my death, or if, for three months, the holders receive no communication on the subjert of the fund from me. And if I myself fail fco show them, in three months from this time; that Sergius Selistoff's son is in a fair way to follow out the teaching I have bestowed upon him — then the holders of those three envelopes are bound by solemn oath never to rest in their beds till they've taken vengeance on the traitcw— on you, Cazalet." ivy vo Owen I pi :p.K38. post in a foreign e a great blow at what they dou't >wered his voice I't know is this: it address of Ser- ;hey have done so ect such marvels. 3elf and you two, •ur know it now ; n; the others, of en by name and lone exclaimed, " Mr. Hay ward sudden access of ly, who may not from poor, help- iree hold each in 30. That sealed [t is ta be opened, atingencies—my 9 holders receive erfc of the fund I to show them, le; that Sergius ) follow out tho I him—then the 8 are bound by beds till they've -on you, Owen tTNDBR SEALED ORDERS. There was a silence in the room. Mr. Hay- ward still bent his htod. Then, at last, as with a burst of inspiration, lone spoke. "Can't you get those envelopes back?" she asked. "Can't . . . the Russian police . . . since Owen won't act . . . help you to get them back again?" The two men, in their utter horror, started unanimously from their seats and gazed at one another, speechless. Owen was the first to find words. "What! betray them," he cried, "for one's own base life, to the spies of the Czar— these men who have befriended me ! Save one's neck by handing them over to the mines of Siberia ! Oh, lone, you can't have realized what your words really ipean. Better death, ten thousand times over — an honest man's death — than such perfidy as that. I can die, if I must ; but sell my com- rades — never!" Mr. Hayward laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder. His face was flushed with pride. "Owen, my boy," he said, gravely, "I see you haven't forgotten quite all that I taught you. I've a plan of my own, though, far bet- ter than lone's. No treachery — no apostasy. I shall try what I can do with the holders of those envelopes. I mean to preserve you, if it's pos- sible to preserve you without treason to the Cause. You know yourself, if our men were once well on your track, no power on earth could save your life. All the strength ol the empire didn't avail 8fi4 UNDER SBALKD QKDVRii. ' ! . ■ I to save Alexander Nioolaievitob. But I shall go oflf myself, at once ; first to* Paris, then to Kieff , then to Moscow and Petersbvirg. I'll see these three men; I'll endeavof to get from them those incriminating documents. No human soul but ourselves shall ever know who was Sergius Selis- toff's son. If I die for it myself, I shall get the sealed orders back from them." ^ Owen floized his friend's arm. "To Kieff I To Moscow!" he cried, aghast, knowing well what they meant. "You won't surely expose yourself — no, no — not in Russia!" "Yea, in Russia!" Mr. HayWnrd jinswnred, with a calmly dogged fa(5e. "For twenty years I've avoided my country for my country's suke. I had hopeo so to save her. Now those hopes are all wrecked. For your sake I'll revisit her. I'll not rest, day or night, till I've got the papers back again. . . . No, don't try to stop me. To Russia I'll go, Owen, though all the sp^es in Petersburg should know I was going there; though all the devils in hell should conspire to prevent me." ,, Again there was a pause. Then Mr. Hay ward spoke once more. "I brought you into this scrape," he said, "and I must see you well out of it — if that's still pos- sible. Owen, my boy, I admit I did wrong. You were a child when I made this bargain on your accouiit. Now you're a man, and can see what it all means and know how to choose for yourself, you've a right to back out of it. Even if I give lip my life now, to release you from ^st.f,*i«B4?*.-a««»?^i'iS!«Lae4»*««'<«^^ But I shall go 8, then to Kieff, I'll see these :rom them those luman soul but 1,8 Sergius Selis- , I shall get the cried, aghast, "You won't lot in Russia!" vnn] nnswored, sr twenty years country's sake, those hopes are revisit her. I'll got the papers stop me. To 11 the spies in i going there; luld conspire to 1 Mr. Hay ward "he said, "and that's still pos- I did wrong, jhis bargain on m, and can see V to choose for it of it. Even ease you from UNDER 8BALBD ORDERS. 856 the bargain you never wittingly made, it may be of no avail. But I tvill give it up if need be. I'll do my best to protect you." Owen took his hand warmly. "Dear, dear Mr. Haywanl," he said, with pro- found emotion, "don't trust youi-self in Russia on my account, I beg of you. I'd rather let this fate hang over me, whatever it maj' be, than think for a moment you should so risk and expose yourself." But he had to reckon with a woman as well, lone rose, passionately, and flung herself upon Mr. Hayward's neck. Then she spoke out with tremulous haste. "No, go, Mr. Hay ward," she cried, quiver- ing, and flinging to him in her earnestness. "You owe it to him. It's your duty. I, who love him, ask you ti) go. You owe it to me, too. He's uiino more than yours, V"ou admit you did wrong. You must be just, then, and protect him." Mr. Hayward, unwinding her ininH, took her hand in his own, still grasping Owen's with the other one. "Yes, I'll go, my children. " he answered. "My life's wrecked. I have but one hope, one wish, on earth now — to make you two happy." "And while you're gone," Owen said, gravely, "I, too, shall have a task to perform — to set about earning my own livelihood at last, and repaying the Cause uU I owe to Russia." Mr. Hayward was just about to answer some- thing, when a ring at the bell roused lone auto- ,*sr.y 856 UMDKR SBAUBD OBDIUS. inatically.' As hoiiHemHid of the flnt, she f UBhed out to answer it. "A telegram for yon, Mr. Hay ward," she Huid, returning. He lore it open ou the spot and read it, eagerly. ' "Just arriveii acroas the German frontier. Couldn't communicate before. Am returning now post-haste to England. Very serious news. Ossinsky arrested ton days ago at Kieff. All is known, except the English name of Sergius Selis- toflf's son. That they can't find out. But the danger is great. Smuggle him away at once, for Heaven's sake. Oloa Mirbff." Mr. Hayward handed it across to them with- out one word of comment. Ions looked blankly at it, while Owen read aloud the secret cipher. Mr. Hayward stood awestruck. As soon as they'd finished, he said but a few words with blanched and trembling Tips. "I must go this evening. . . . Ossinsky v/'as one of them." "To Moscow?" Owen asked. "No, first of all to Paris. Once I get to Russia, I may never come back again ; so I must settle Paris first. But there's no time to be lost. I'll telegraph to Olga to await me in Berlin; and I'll start for Paris this very evening." DKK8. e flat, she rushed Hay ward," she pen on the spot Jerinan frontier. Am retaming )ry serious news, at Kieff. All is of Serglus Selis- id out. But the 1 away at once, .a A MiRBPF." 8 to them with- 9 looked blankly le secret cipher, k. As soon as few words with . Ossinsky vras Once I get to gain ; so I must ' time to be lost. 9 in Berlin ; and ing." • a.^a.K'ii^'i jc'^'Sa-jT.'*- tTMDKB SEALED ORDBB8. Wf ;*<. CHAPTER XXXIX. .*i,;* fortune's wheel. True to his word, Mr. Hayward left that eveuing by the night mail for Paris. As soon as he was gone, a blank fell upon the party. After the cumulative excitement of the last few weeks, it seemed almost impossible for them to settle down once more to the humdrum routine of everyday life — the "domastic round of roast and boiled," as Blackbird loved to call it. Con- versation languished ; platitudes palled ; common events seemed tame^ even Tone's bright heart felt the lack of some more pressing stimulus. They had grown accustomed to the feverish sub- peose of nihilistic life; this long waiting for news from Pai-is, KiefS, or Moscow struck thea\ as dull and monotonous after those pungent epi- sodes of the lasher and the sealed envelopeB. Only the doubt as to the future kept them on the qui vive now. Would Mr, Hayward succeed or fail in his momentous enterprise? — that was the question. Meanwhile, however, Owen began to realize still more definitely and clearly than ever that he ought to be doing something for his own liveli- 1' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 28 I.I 5 5 "^^ ^^ IIIIIM IIIM IM 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. H380 (716) 872-4503 S. ^x* * I. 'C\ ,v ^\ 4^^ ■^'\& <" %' m^<^ <<•• ^ & ^ '^9)' '*'' «Px «p.' CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques • If 358 UNI>»B SEALED ORDERS. if . hoocl. It was impassible be could any longer de- pend uix)ri Mr. Hay ward; still more impossible that he could draw further on Aunt Julia's scanty private income. So he settled down for the time in Sacha's rooms, intent on the favorite and in- dispensable operation of looking about him. But looking about one, though a very good occupa- tiou in its way, as a change from overwork, is a mode of life that soon wearies and sates a vigor- ous y^oung intelligence. Owen found it unsat- isfactory in the very first week, and longed for some more active and remunerative employment. Yet he might have gone on indefinitely looking about him all in vain for months tngother— so thronged with suitors is every gate in London — but for an accident that occurred a few days later to Trevar Gardener. They were sitting one afternoon "n the draw- ing-room of the fiat — lone and Ov eu very ab- sorbed and moody, thinking over the chances of Mr. Hayward's mission, and the reason of his silendb; Sacha working away at "cooking" a sketch; Blackbird hanging over the piano, and trying a chord or two at a time in the throes of composition — when a latch-key turned quickly in the front door of the suite, and Trevor Gar- dener looked in, deadly white and terrified. "Is Sacha here?" he asked, holding the door ajar. "I beg your pardon for coming like this, but I want to speak with her." Sacha rose and gave him her hand. "Come into the studio," she said, trembling suddenly. And Trevor Gardener followed her. IRS. any longer de- iiore impossible it Julia's scanty wu for the time (■iivorite and iu- bout him. But ■y good ocoupa- i overwork, is a d sates a vigor- ound it unsat- ind longed for v^o employment, finitely looking 18 together— so te in London — ed a few days 5n n the draw- Ov en very ab- the chances of » reason of his t "cooking" a the piano, and n the throes of iurned quickly ad Trevor Gar- [ terrified. )lding the door mjiig like this, band. "Come ling suddenly. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 369 As they reached the room, ho shut the door and looked at her, fixed and white. "Oh, Sacha," he said abruptly, taking her hind in his own, "how lucky it was, the other day, after all, you didn't accept me!" "Why to?" Sacha asked, glancing up into his face trustfully, and letting her hand lie in his; for she had learned by this iime to love him with all her heart. "Oh, Trevor, what's the matter? Something dreadful has happened !" "No, nothing very dreadful," the young man answered, with blanched lips that belieu his words. "At least, not when you're accustomed to it. . . . But why lucky? .... Well, Sacha, just for this excellent reason — and I'm so thank- ful you said no to me- -because, if you'd said yes, you'd have accepted a beggar." Sacha laid one soothing hand on his shoulder and smiled. Yes, positively smiled. Such a thing it is to be bora a Rus.sian, or half one. Those people have no idea of the importance of Money! ■■ .% . .--..' "Something gone wrong in the City?" she asked, almost pleased as it seemed to hira. Trevor Gardener winced and nodded. "Yes, something gone wrong," he said. "No, every- tliing gone wrong, rather. And so terribly, so terribly! You could never understand it. My partner Wilson — oh, Sacha! such a blow — not for myself, I don't mean, not for myself, of course; but for our clients wlu trusted us." "What has he done?" Sacha asked, with a strange feeling in her tlu-oat which was cer- '.:') tainly not altogether either sympathy or sor- row. ' ' Done !" Trevor answered, gasping. ' ' What's he done! Wliy, everything. What's he not done's more like it. Embezzleti, mismanaged, over - speculated, gambled, falsified account.«*, stolen clients' money, invented imaginary stocks for country clergymen and confiding old ladies; committeti every crime a rascally partner could possibly be guilty of. It only came out this morning. And now he's gone away, leaving a note behind to tell me he means to cut his own throat, and shuflQing upon me the responsibility of meeting the firm's engagements." "Has he any private means?" Saoha asked, anxious to know the worst at once. ---'■:.';.<}•'' 'Not a penny, as far as I can learn. He's gambled away everything. All his own stocks are gone, and his wife's, and his father-in-law's; as for his house at Wimbledon, that's a mere drop in the bucket. I haven't realized the/uU extent of his defalcations as yet. But at the very best — and fresh things are turning up every minute - -my capital and investments must go to cover it, and even then the firm will be hopelessly bankrupt. Ten shillings in the pound will be the outside dividend." Sacha gazed a'o him, undismayed. "Then you are a poor man now, Trevor!" she cried, flushing crimson. "You haven't a penny to bless yourself with!" "Not a penny to bless myself with!" Trevor responded grimly. >KUS. rmpathy or sor- iping. "What's What's he not ii, mismanaged, sified aocounte, maginary stocks kiing old ladies; ly partner could ' came out this awaj% leaving a 18 to out his own he responsibility Its." Saoha asked, ice. L'an learn. He's I his own stocks J father-in-law's; bat's a mere drop >d the .full extent at the very best Lip every minute nust go to cover II be hopelessly 3 pound will be nayed. "Then mr!" she cried, in't a penny to with!" Trevor UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 361 In the tumult of passionate joy, Sacha flung her arms round his neck. "Dear Trevor," she murmured very low, "ther^ at laef I may love you." "May love me?" Trevor echoed, amazed. "Yes — and marry you, now, Trevor!" She said it tenderly, joyfully, with deep ear- nestness in her quivering voice. Trevor gazed at . her and sighed. She was a wonderful woman 1 "But why now, if not before, Sacha?" he asked, all bewildered. To him, good solid, sober- minded, commercial Englishman, this blow had sr .med like a death-knell of all hin hopes in life. He had been thankful for one thing only — that Sacha hadn't accepted him. But Sacha, for her part, still clinging to him in lior joy, said firmly and resolutely, "Before, you were rich, dear, and 1 wouldn't marry a rich man, on whom I must be dependent. Now, you're poor —oh, so poor— why, much poorer than myself — and I can marry you to-morrow with no loss of my pride— for I'm making a big- ger income every month of late, Trevor; and if you can put up with small things, why, we'll marry at once, and you may begin life over again." , The young man started back in dismay. "Oh, no, darling," he cried, astonished. "How could I ever do that? I'm a man; you're a v/oman. You said to me that day on the downs at Moor Hill you wouldn't marry any one who was richer than yourself, because you didn't want to be like the women who sell themselves for the pittance .w '•"ij 362 UNI>ER SEALED ORDBRui. T of a livelihood. Your creed was the perfect equality of the sexes and you wouldn't go back upon it. Well, thon, if you, who are a woman, couldn't be dependent upon a man, how can I, who am a man, he dependent upon a woman?" He said it manfully, honestly, with big open eyes. Sacha iiaused a moment and reflected ; his argument caught her napping. She drummed her fingers on the table to assist her thought. At first hearing, this certainly sounded like a genuine dilemma. Yet she knew it wasn't in- superable. Then slowly, by degrees, she felt her way out of it. "No, it's not quite the same," she said in her deliberate, logical fashion. "The cases aren't parallel . And I'll tell you the differ- ence. Women till now have all Ijeen naturally dependent upon men; it's been taken for grantetl they must be paupers and hangers-on. And each of them has been dependent upon a particular man, his slave and his chattel. That's a system I hate, and I don't want to perpetuate it. "There- fore, I stood out against marrying a man much richer than myself — even though I loved him — beside whose wealth my little earnings would be as nothing in the family. That was my wo- manly pride. It's quite different with men. They've no inequality to redress,' no principle to vindicate. If a woman can help them at a pinch to re-establish their fortunes, why not avail themselves of the chance — and make her happy?" She looked up into his face, a tender look, with those great trustful eyes of hers, as she said the last words. In spite of bankruptcy and ruin, A-J\ vas the perfect uldu't go back are a woman, lan, how can I, wn a woman?" with big open id reflected; his She drummed ler tiiought. aoujided like a w it wasn't in- ees, she felt her lite the same," fashion. "The 1 you the diflfer- been naturally .ken for granted -on. And each )on n particular rhat's a system late it. There- ; a man much I loved him — jarnings would lat was my wo- mt with men. 8,' no principle help tiiem at a 1, why not avail ke her happy?" ider look, with as she said the )tcy and ruin,. UNDER BEA.1.KD ORDERS. 368 Trevor Gardener thrilled through and through at her touch as she raised his hand to her lips, and laid her head, all unbidden, in the hollow of his* ehoulder. "Trevor," she murmured once more, very low and soft, "you were ready to marry me when you were rich and successful and could have given me everything that heart can desire. See — I ask you myself to-day : won't you marry me now you're poor and distressed and disheart- ened, and let me fight the battle of life with you for your help and comfort?" It wasn't in human nature that Trevor Gar- dener at such words shouldn't bend down, enrap- tured, to kiss those liquid eyes, swimming with rare tears, and those thoughtful thin lips, held appealingly up toward him. "Sacha, darling," he said with a burst, soothing her hair with his hand, "if for a moment I say no to you, trust me, it isn'u that I love you less — it's that I re- spect you more. I can't bear to be a drag upon you, to make you share my poverty. I wanted to marry you, that I might iind you such luxuries and let you live in such comfort. But now I should only hinder you. And I can't bear to say yes to you — though you ask me so sweetly." "You shall say yes," Sacha answered with fervor, all the latent passion and earnestness of her half-Russian nature coming out in full force at this faltering opposition. "I love you, Tre- vor, I love you ; and you shall say yes to me. I want to fight this battle with you ; I want to retrieve this loss; I want to be of use to you— a pillar, a staff, a prop, a help to you. Money 1 iH mi UNDER SEALED ORDBKd. AVhy, darling, when you were rich I couldn't bpHr to tako you, among other things, because I ^ don't know whether it's right for some of us to have so much, when others have so little. I was shocked and afraid when you told me how many thousands you made a year. But if you're poor now, I want you, I long for you, I ask 3'ou, I must have you." She flung her soft arms wildly round his neck once more, and burst into a sudden flood of fiercely passionate tears. He could liardly believe this was Hacha. The pent up emotion of months found full vent all at once. "Oh, promise me you'll take me, darling," she cried, clinging to him with all her soul. "Promise me, promise mo you'll take me; you'll marrj' me!" ' •.- "-;. Trevor Gardener was a man ; and men usually find it difficult to say no to anything, when a woman asks them outright for it. And besides, he lovQd her. He loved and admired her with all hia heart and soul. Yet even so, he tried hard for a moment to stand out, for manly dig- nity's sake. "When this bankruptcy's arranged — " he said, feebly, pressing her tight to his breast — a bad mo- ment for negotiations. "When. . . I've retrieved my position a bit, Sacba. When I can earn an income." •■* ■' ■■ :^'>,i:—-^f^ijAp^t::^:BKd. rich I couldn't hings, because I for some of uh to ave HO little. I ou tohl rue how II year. But it I long for you, She flung her : once more, and jrcely passionate this was 8acha. i found full vent you'll take me, him with all her J you'll take me; and men usually nything, when a t. And besides, Imired her with iven so, he tried , for manly dig- iged— " he said, •east — a bad mo- . .I've retrieved m' I can earn an itly — that placid 1 at last with the od woman in a at once, just as I shall, Trevor. UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. 965 To show my confidniico in you, your trust in me' Not a duy must wo wait I To-morrow! Tj- morrow!" It was some minutes before thoy wcmt buck to the others in thedrnwing-room. Whon tho>''did so, Sacha's dignified face was very flushed anil reil with not unbecoming blushes, and she wore in her breast a single dropping gardenia, the very last gardenia Trevor Gardener was ever to buy for his own fidoriimont. As she entered the room, both lone and Blackbird noticed the unwonted token and glanced at it significantly, with in- quiring eyes. "What does it mean?" Sacha said, interpret- ing their unspoken thoughts aright, and answer- ing them frankly. "It means that dear Trevor's been ruined by his partner's dishonesty — and that therefore there's no reason why he and I shouldn't bo married as soon as ever we can get the banns published." .; -v > • • . .>/ >« i---'. ^r -■A .,■ «- •^' .■^'■•.;^i:'---, ,^ .ii?; vv!., ^■■•-; -''. .^U-.' - '-•■. 8«6 UMDEK SEALED ORDERd. IV- \ F'i " / CHAPTER XL THE Hid HER EDUCATION OF WOMEN. A bankruptcy's a loug and weary businesa; and before Trevor Gfardener was well out of the wood, a good many things had had time to happen. Among others, a day or two later, a short note came for Owen, in cipher, from Mr. Hayward, at Paris. It said simply this : V^r "With great diificulty, my dear boy, I've suc- ceeded in recovering the first of the sealed en- velopes fi'om my trusted friend over here; but only, I'm sorry to say, by a transparent ruse, which he resents intensely. This may greatly embarrass vis. He knows or guesses from my action that Sergins Selistoff's s^n must have re- fused his trust or gone back upon his bargain, and that I'm trying now to cover Lis retreat by counteracting my own most elab:)rate precautions. My fear is, therefore, that he may write to my other friend at Moscow, to warn him of my de- fection; in which case, the envelope may perhaps be opened before I reach there. If so, my boy — I can't conceal the facts from you — you are sim- ma. UflDRR SEALED ORDERS. 867 r WOMEN. v^eary businesH; well out of the d had time to ^r, a short uoto Mr. Hayward, r boy, I've suc- the Healed en- over here; but nsparent ruse, is may greatly esses from my must liave re- )n his bargain, ' liis retreat by te precautions. y write to my liim of my do- e may perhaps : 80, my boy — —you are sim- ply doomed. But 1 will hope for the best. Give my love to lono. I start, if posffil)le, for Riinsia to-morrow. These may be the very last lines you will ev(»r ri'coive from "Your affectionate and penitent friend and guardian, Lamueut Haywahd." Owen fO(!eived this lett«r with very mingled feelings. It was satisfm-tory tis far as it went, no doubt, that one more chance of Nihilist re- venge should be curtailed or destroyed ; but, on the other hand, tlio deep sense of being a traitor to the Cause himself, and of having induced oven Mr. Hayward to turn traitor, too, sat heavily upon him. His one consolation lay in the thought that lone was pleased, and that she felt perfect confidence in Mr. Ilayward'e powers to prevent further mischief when once he got to Russia. Even liefore Trevor Gardener's bankruptcy, however, had been finalh' disposed of, it was fully settled that the penniless stock-ljroker wjis to marry Sacha at once; and after their mar- riage, he and Owen were to start a now business together, at first in Owen's name alone, on a scheme that Sacha had long been turning over in her head — a co-operative picture-dealer's, for selling works of art on joint terms with the artists. Sacha was prepared out of her little savings to find at once the preliminary capital ; and as rooms were obtained in connection with Mr, Hay ward's premises in Bond Street, they bad good hopes at the start of a successful ven- 868 tNDEK SBAI.BD ORDERS. S/ff^i tare. Saclm had a large acquaintance among painters, botli men and women, and diose with caro the co-uporutorH wlio wore to share their at- tempt. Trevor Oardenor, on the other hand, had a huge ac(i[uaintam;o am^ng the picture-buying chws, whom ho (H)uhl iuflnoDce by his judgment; whih> Owou'h Htriking a|)pe!iran(;e ajid fame as an atlih'te might attra^it from tlie outset, they hoped, «)ut of pure curioHity, a certafn amount of custom. Nor, iih a matter of fact, were they di8a))pointed. This is an ago of well-bred com- mercial ventures. The business from the very first was a decided success; and before many mouths were over, when Trevor's affairs were Bettlod, they found themselves already making a tolerable profit. Nor did Trevor's affairs turn out quite so black in the end «i8 he at first had feared. True, the as- sets didn't cover more than sixteen shillings in the pound ; but that was l)etter than the ten of his earliest calculations; and when all was over the ruined man made up his mind bravely to begin life over again and work hard for rehabitation till he could return his creditors in full the de- ficit caused by his partner's dishonesty. Mean- while, he and Sacha were married, after all, and took up their abode together- in the flat off Victoria Street. Not so long after, it occurred casually to Hen- ley Stokes one morning at Pump Court to stroll round once more for a further appeal to Black- bird's feelings. This shilly-shallying irked him. If marriages were to be the order of the day in BRS. lintance among and choHe with eharo their at- other hand, had picturo-buying y his judgment; CO and fame as the outset, they cortam amouut fact, were they ' well-bred cora- 1 from the very id before many r's affairs were ilready making it quite so black [. True, the as- a shilliugs in the 1 the tea of his all was over the jravely to begin for rehabitation •s in full the de- ouesty. Mean- •ried, after all, ar-in the flat off asually to Hon- [) Court to stroll ppeal to Black- ^ing irked him. er of the day in UNDMR SKAl.CT) OKPEBS. 860 the phalanstery of the flat— hang it all, why shouldn't he, too, bear his part v.\ the modest pageant? So, drcK ing himself very spick and span in his best fr(K-k coat, witli theusiin! orchid neatly pinned in his button-hole, he sallied fortli to Victoria Street, determined this time that Blackbird shouM exi)l)iin herself and the mys- terious reason why, though she loved him, slut wouldn't marry him. He would be put off with no subterfuges; he must get at the vez-y core of his lady-love's objoo\ion. His touch at the e'lectric boll was answered, as usual, by lone, all in her morning dross. • ' Is Bla(;kbird a z hom« "' " the y oimg man asked, eagerly. "Well— yes," lone admitted, in somew lat dubious tones, "But I don't quite know whether she'll see yon or not, To tell you the trath, Henley, just of late Blackbird's been down in very bad spirits." "What aboiitV" Henley asked, with a most commiserating face. - .■>; "Oh, I can't say, I'm sure!" lone answered, not quite so sympathetically as Henley Stokes could have wished. "It's a way she has, some- times. Blackbird wouldn't be happy, don't you know, if she wasn't miserable." This was paradoxical, but true, and Henley admitted its force. "There are no fresh laurel-leaves just now, you see," he said, musing slowly to himself. "I al- ways thought, lone, Blackbird was never so well pleased or so comforted in soul as when she was ■^i ■■' .'it gj l ?. f ji>*u!4 (i iM!M ''' 870 UNDER SEALED ORDEBS. F ft- I ;,: pfflv busy mi.king those investigations on laurel leaves and the infusions she got out of them." lone was less interested in the subject than the young man from Pump Court. She led the way listlessly into Blackbird's laboratory. "Here's Henley!" she said, with a brusque opening of the door. Blackbird gave a little start, and popped a bottle she was fingering into the cupboard at once in a somewhat flurried man- ner. But she stepped forward, flushing up rather more than was lier wont. "Oh, ho'v kind of you to come round!" she said, taking his hand and trembling. Henley Stokes seated himself, and drew his chair near liers. For a while he talked nerv- ously about various general subjects, screwing up courage all the time for the final plunge. At last, when Blackbird unconsciously gave him a good lead for the remark, he went on, wistfully : "Well, that was just what I came round about to day, do you know. You remember, Black- bird, that morning last summer, when I — when I spoke to you so, and you were so very, very kind to me — "' Blackbird nodded petulantly — •'yo;\ remember, you said we could never be en- gaged. Well, I've come round to-da}' to ask you plainlr whij. I'll take no excuse. You must answer me. Blackbird; I won't go away till you've answered me." As he said those words Blackbird clinched her thin fingers hard and drove the nails into her \'''^.lwS-a?-*jfc?feA>M-^'*..'-;-(C«-:J**A^v. RDEBS. ajations on laurel she got out of le subject than the . She led the way >ratory. 1, with a brusque bird gave a little was fingering into ivhat flurried man- , flushing up rather oome round!" she nbling. elf, and drew his e he talked nerv- iubjects, screwing ' final plunge, inconsciously gave aark, he went on, came round about remember, Black- ^er, when I — when vere so very, very >dded petulantly — could never be en- md to-day to ask no excuse. You I won't go away kbird clinched her the nails into her UNDER SCALED ORDERS. 371 palm. Then she looked up at him almost de- fiantly. "Oh, Henley," she cried, holding her breath, and half closing her big black eye,-5, "I thought I told you then it was impossible, impossible. Why do you want to reopen it? All these times, ever since, when I've seen you from day to day, it's Ijeon so sweet to me to think— you really oared for me, that I've gone i.n clinging to life —clinging to life in spite of myself. I thought you loved me tjo well to go worrying me with iove. Don't spoil it all now by asking such hor- rid questions!" • The young man bent over her tenderly. He couMn't understand her, but indeed he loved her! How sweet and frail she looked! like some delicate piece of fine Dresden china. "But T can't help it, darling," he murmured, dropping his voice quite low and looking deep into her dark eyes through the fringe of half- closed lashes. "All these times, as you sayi^' ve put it off and off, waiting anxiously froni day to day, fearing I might vex you again; till, now Sachaand Trevor are married, I keep saying to my own heart— Why not then just as well my- self and Blackbird?" The words fell like a match on a heap of gun- powder. Blackbird opened her eyes suddenly, and fronted him with the face of one possessed. Her access of energy frightened him. "Married !" she cried, flashing fire at him from both those glowing eyes. "Married! Married! Married! Oh, Henley, I wonder you, who know Mi^s^^ ■ \ ' •l '*"EBS. ur'e you love me urself the reasou n knew how you iw how you were ly! But, there! )U8t; how should fathom ^the feel- ne, Blackbird?" lifting her hand ireiising it there with passive ac- )ved it. It was le her tingle with drew back as she . And that's not jroken my dream ing it. For days I thunderbolt litis were merely con- talk of marriage [ can ouly sleep oung man cried, "Oh, Blackbird, fchout t^elUug me . him. She was ler lips trembled PPWPJffff UNDER SKAT^ED ORDERS. 373 "Itvtll tell you the reason," she answered, with a terrible forced calm. "I can't keep it from you any longer. I must out with it or die, 1 will tell you the reason.— Henley, you're a man, and you love me as a woman. But will you have the truth? I'm not a woman at all — not a wo- man in the sense you mean — not a woman to be loved as a man wants to love her. I'm only a little girl grown up— that's all— in brain and mind and intelligence a woman, but in body a child, no more fit to love or be loved in the way you think than a four-year-old baby. If I love at all, it's with my brain, not with my heart or my body. . . . When you talk to me like a man — even you, who are so gentle and so patient and so kind — you simply frighten me. I haven't got the instincts lone and Sacha have. . • • How could it be else? Listen here, dear Henley. I ve thought of this, day and night, till I know what I'm spsakiug of. All the woman that ever was in me or ought to have been in me has been edu- cated out, crushed and killed by teaching. It's all gone off in music or mathematics or chemistry or Greek. The rest of you are creatures of flesh and blood. I'm not even as you are. I'm all brain and nerves. The flesh and blood are bred out of me. I've nothing left to love you with." ' ,*,-flt«^ r .,y "But you do love me!" Henley Stokes mur- mured low, looking at her, still admiringly "Yes, I love you, my darling, I love you. Blackbird cried, trembling all over with joy and grief, and holding both his hands in hers, and / .: >» •1' ,j *'? Sai '^ ' ^i,i|-^' f I lif HiVi I lii 1'rii r ^ I I lifcjWiiiii, t—.^. Mit^i^ iitfi ■'■...'"■ ' - 8?4 UNDBB SEALED ORDERS. thrilling through to the finger- tips. "I love you all I can, and I love you to love me. I've been happier these few mouths than ever I was iu all my life before. For the first time I' ve been happy. I've known what joy meant; I've lived, instead of merely existing and learning. But, all the time, a black shadow has disturbed my happi- ness. I knew it must come to an end at last — before long. I Unew I was deceiving you. . . , For you wanted a ivoin'an to love and be loved by ; and all you've got instead is an animated music-book — the leavings and relics of the higher education." Henley turned to her in a tremor of pity and kissed her white lips. Just that once, iu the ex- altation of the moment, she allowed him. She almost imagined she could understand why women, real wometi, liked such sfrange caresses. The kiss coursed through and through her, rous- ing vague echoes in her limbs; but she folt it was wrong; she felt it was hopeless, "There! There! That'll do!" she cried, breaking down half hysterically and motion- ing him off with her hands. "Don't ask me any more. Remember, this is final. I've boen drilled and instructed from my childhood up till there's no power or spontaneity or-life left in me. To love a man as he wants to be loved you must have flesh and blood. I'm a spirit, that's all, in a casing of clothes. A voice — and a tired one. The only thing left for me now is to close my eyes, if I can, and sleep on forever. Close my eyes, and sleep away, and never wake up again. tips. "I love you ire me. I've been L ever I was iu all B I've been happy, 've lived, instead ng. But, all the urbed my happi- I an end at last — ieiving you. , . , love and be loved id is an animated elics of the higher remor of pity and it once, iu the ex- lowed him. She understand why sfrange caresses, hrough her, rous- ; but she folt it )peles8, -lo!" she cried, lly and motion- " Don't ask me final. I've boen childhood up till or-life left in me. ? loved you must irit, that's all, in -and a tired one. w is to close my •ever. Close my • wake up again. TTKDBB SEALED ORDffRS- For, having once known this, there's nothing more on earth for me!" She let his hands drop short : then, just once, with a sudden impulse, transcending hor own nature, she bent forward glow iag hot — and kissed both his wistful eyes with an impassioned press- ure. "I know what they want," she ried, "those dear, dear eyes— and I never could give it^them. (J^ood-by, good-by, kind friend— the only man on earth I ever could love; the only man on earth who ever could love me! C*oou-by — for- ever!" And with a quick burst of tears, she rushed all at once from the room like a wounded creature leaving Henley alone, amazed and dis- comfitod. w ^^TV 876 UMDEB SEAIiBO ORDEaS. :,„.,,,.,,;,,.^,. ^ *■ A- I ' • CHAPTER XLI. LAUKBL LEAVBS. "Some people, they tell me, are afraid of Death. It was never so with me, clear Henley. It's Life I'm afraid of. For a while I endured it. I can endure it no longer. Good-night, lov- ing heart! I hope I may sleep-^with no dreams to bother me." So Henley Stokes read next morning on a post- card, ii a very firm hand. It was signed just "Blackbird." No more than those few words. But they made his heart sink. He looked at them and trembled. What could Blackbird mean by it? ■ " f Sei'jng hie hat. forthwith, he rushed out into the Strand. There, he hailed a passing han- som; "Drive quick! to Victoria Street!" He rang the bell of the flat. lone opened the door — bright and smiling as usual. Henley's heart came up into his mouth at the sight, for joy. Then all was well, after all! He pressed her hand hard Blackbird had only been terrifying him! If anything had happened, lone could never look so gay and cheerful as that! The very light in her merry eyes reassured him iijamensely. . f-us- Ti:s:;-7',T*TP^ '.■ -;W^^«'itf^^J»«wrt*j >Ei(a. ' B8. e, are afraid of me, dear Henloy. I while I endured Good-nigbt, lov- '-witU uo dreams lorning on a posi- was signed just those few words. c. He looked at could Blackbird I rushed out into a passing han- ria Street!" He opened the door Henley's heart 16 sight, for joy. He pressed her y been terrifying ued, lone could il as that! The I reassured him UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 877 Still, it was in a broken voice that ho stam- mered out the question, "And Blackbird? How is slie?" "Blackl»ird?" lono answorod, half ahirmod at liis gravity. "Well, you're so early this morn- ing, you ace. It isn't nino o'clock yet. I'm only the housomuid, of course, so it doesn't mat- ter for me; but you can't expect the ladies of the house to bo up and dressed, ready to receive visitors, at sucli an unearthly hour. Besides, when Blackbird went to bed last night, she askod us not to call her — to let her sleep on. She ft-lt as if she should get some rest at last, she said — she's been sleepless lately, and she didn't want us on any account to wake her up or disturb her." Henley Stokes's heart stood still withih him once more at those ominous words. "Some rest at last!" ho cried, turning paler than ever, md grasping a chair in his horror. "Some rest at last! Oh, lone, didn't j'ou guess, didn't you kuow what she meant? 'iVe must wake her up at once! We must go in to her room and try to TOUse her!" As ho spoke, he put the post-card into lone's hands without one word of explanation. lono read it, and broke at ouce into a sudden little cry. "Sacha, Sacha," she burst out, hurrying terrified down the passage, "we must force open the door. Oh, look at it"! look at it I Do you know what this means? Poor Blackbird has killed herself!" In a moment, Owen and Sacha had rushed out tf 378 UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. ^% into the passjige, aud stood together, all tremu- lous, in front of Blackbird's door. "With one side blow of his strong fist, Owen broke off the lock fittings. It yielded, instantly. They en- tered, hushed and awestruck— Owen first, then Henley Stokes, then lone and Sacha. As they did so, Owen started ; Henley gave a sharp gasp, and stood still on the threshold. Within, very motionless. Blackbird lay across the bed, in a simple black grenadine evening dress, her feet just touching the ground, her head thrown on one side, as if listless, on the pillow. She was sleeping soundly— at rest at last. Her face was very white. Her thin hands were bloodless. Owen was the first to move forward, with the solemn step a deathroom seems to call forth auto- matically; he gazed hanl at the poor child, as she lay there, in her loneliness. She was pallid but peaceful. A little foam at the mouth, a slight blueness of the lips, were the sole signs of what had happened. Save for that, she looked merely as if she had fallen into a very deep sleep. He touched one hand reverently with inquiring fingers. It was cold as ice, but still soft and yielding. By her side on the little table lay a corked bot- tle. Against it, a piece of paper was conspicu- ously tilted. "Don't touch, foi heaven's sake. Prussic acid. Very poisonous. The fumes would kill 3'ou." ' , ' They looked at it, appalled, without Haying a word to one another. Sacha took Owen's hand in hers. They paused, and gazed at the beauti- 'tlior, all tremu- lloor. "With one n broke oflF the ntly. They en- Oweu first, then )Hcha. As they ve a sharp gasp, Within, very 38 the bed, in a dress, her feet head thrown on illow. She weui ■ Her face was re bloodless, irward, with the J call forth anto- e poor child, as She was pallid t the mouth, a the sole signs of that, she looked to a very ^eep •everently with as ice, but still ly a corked bot- ' was conspicu- heaven's sake. The fumes thout Haying a k Owen's hand at the beauti- UNDEK SEALED ORDERS. 879 ful calm face, more befiutiful now it was at rest nt hiat than over it had been during tliu woari- iicHH of living. Tears .stole slowly down their cheeks. Not one of them needed to a-ik why iiluckbird had killed her.self. They knew very well already The wonder was, rather, why she hadn't done it long ago. Weary, weary of a life that was a jiain ami a bitterness to her. Longing to be at rest. Too tired to do more than lie down and be well rid of it. They stood there long in silence, gazing mute- ly at one another. Then Henley Stokes stepped forward, very solemnly and reverently, and kissed the white forehead once with a deep- drawn sigh. As he did so, ho saw a little piece of paper lay crumpled up convulsively in the less conspicuous hand. He drew it forth hair remorseful, as if afraid of disturbing poor Black- bird's peace. It was a twisted wee note, in- scribed in pencil, "For Heidey." He opened it and read. "Three o'clock, Wednesday morning. Just before taking the poison. Dearest Henley, you have given me a few short months of the only happiness I ever know in my poor little life. But of course it couldn't last. I knew it was delusive. It grieves me to think I must requite you so ill by giving you in return so much needless sor- row." On the center table was a long letter in an en- velope, addressed to Sacha. Owen handed it to her without a word. Sacha opened it and read. -I 1 TT^ 380 UNDRK HRALED ORDRRR. Tilt rest looked over her shoulder and follow b' in Hilonco. "13 Mi\v you will host under stand nie. Henley undorHtands too; hut then Henley knows so much I needn't write to him. So I set down these few words for you, to he read at the inquest. I suppose there'll be an in- quest. They won't even let a poor tired girl lie down to sleep when she chooses, hut they must drag her out publicly to ask why she lay down and what she wanted to rest for . " Vou know I was tired, and how hard I found it to keep awake at all. You know how my life was a grief and a burden to me. What I wanted was just to put my hands behind my head, and fling myself down on the soft sweet grass, with the warm sky above mo, and the drowsy hum of the bees for a lullaby in my ear; to fall asleep then and there, and never, never wake up again. I couldn't do that; but I've done what I could. I've taken a sleeping-draught — or I moan soon to take it. It's a very sure and certain one. It acts instantaneously. I made it myself. It's called prussic acid. "Sacha dear, I don't need to ask you to for- give me. You under-stfiud me so well you won't want explanations But I'd like to explain how it all happenetl, to the jury. They won't understand, of course; those twelve dreadful men, stolid, thickheaded, commonplace. They'll say, 'She was mad.' Oh, Sacha. don't let them ■/:^-^--^^L..r,.-^-b .., PKRS. . (ler .ind follow b-l "la Midnijfht. I write to you will host undor M too; but thoii n't write to him. Is for you, to bo there'll be an in- KHir tirod girl Ho «, but they inuHt by she lay down low hard I found now how my life Wluit I wanted nd my head, and kveet grasH, with 3 drowsy hum of vr; to fall asleep ■ wake up again, le what I could, -or I mean soon certain one. It it myself. It's ask you to for- ) Avell you won't like to explain y. They won't welve dreadful iplaco. They'll . don't lot them VNPKIi HBALBO OUUKKS. 381 call me that I'm ho senHJldf, ho logical. It would give nir hjid drcains in my IhhI uiiiler the green grass. 'Make them weu I uaw just tired. So tired, srt weary, it wan tmreaHonaltb? for mo to do unything else on eartli but fall asleep with lists ciincb"d like a drowsy l);iby. "For yenrs I've done iiotliing l>nt learn, learn, learn. I was worked from my babyhood. They said I Wiis clever, and must develop my talents. Wluui my talents wore d(!veloi)t>d, there was notliing else left of me, The woman was dead; the brain alone remained. 1 could compose, I could sing, I could read and write and reason; but live (111 love or enjoy myself, I couldn't. "And 1 wanted to love. I wanted to be loved. Oh, I wanted it so badly! But don't tell them about that, dear. Don't refid that at the in- (luost. You and Henley can understand. For the rest of thorn, no matter. "There was only one thing in life 1 had energy left for. I lt>nged for sleep so much that I made my mind up mouths and mouths ago 1 iir * have a sleeping draught. I read up about them all; all the draughts that make you sleep and never wake up again. Most of them were slow, long, doubtful, ineffective. But I found there was one that never failed or hung fire. That one was prussio acid. I determined to get some and keep it by my side for use when I wanted it. But they wouldn't let me buy any. There's a conspiracy in England to keep people awake against their will, whether they're tired or not. You mayn't buy a sleeping draught, even I, ri- 882 UNnKR SRAl.RD ORDRRS. tbi for UH« on tlu' »pot. So the only way left was for mo to make it. "Tlmt oompollod me to lonrn chemiHtry. I lenrnotl it, nxu\ witii a will. I wan ho tirwl I could muHtcr up enorgy onough and to sparo, if it wan to l)riiig mo my sleeping draught. I worked away at it hard, and Hoon lefirnod the bewt plauH for makitig prussic acid. "J)o yon romomher, all hwt Hununer, I was al- wayH nu^ssing about in the laboratory with laurel leavoH? Well, laurel leaves contain aniygdalin, and from amygdalin you can dintill hyclroayrrio acid — that's the chemical name of it. I might have made it from drugs; but thiH way was prettier. I distilled i>n leurnod tlie id. limner, I was al- itory with laurol tiiiu ainyf,'dalin, Htill hydroayrrio • of it. I might t thiH way was —enough to put ael weary. But rength, and fleah < not a ghost like > me feel the dif- And yoHtorday, ry him, I said to ^ I can't staud { life. I won't a woman, when II, a nullity. I ife for him by town aud rest at ght.' ng ago; but one park of woman- le after bo much cker when Hen- loj* wafl kind to mo. It mado m(* fool how d(i. %*^'*'' " ■-■'.>* ■4ii{^^:LS mm '\m ' 384 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. K .-V CHAPTER XLII. BAD MATERIAL. On the Continent, meanwhile, Mr. Hayward's saccess had been partial and inconclusive. Tlio very morning of his arrival in Paris he went hastily round from hia comfortable hotel in the Rue de la Paix to a shabby street on the South Side, to get back, if possible, into his own hands the incriminating envelope which con- tained Owen Cazalet's name and address in En- gland. For this purpose, he meant to introduce himself at once to bis brother Nihilist as Ruric Brassoflf; for nobody on earth, save Madame Mi reff alone, was aware of the identity of the exiled prince with Mr. Lambert Hay ward, senior part- ner in the firm of Mortimer & Co., in Bond Street. Had others known it, needless to say, the identification of Owen with Sergius Selistoflf the younger would have been very plain sail- iag. But Mr. Hayward, who did nothing by halves, had kept his English home and occupa- tion discreetly concealed from the prying gaze of all his Nihilist allies; so he ran no risk now of implicating C/w^^^i by any other means than the sealed envelope. ORDERS. AL. lie, Mr. Ha3rward'8 inconclusive, arrival in Paris he comfortable hotel in Qabby street on the esible, into his own velope which con- and address in En- meant to introduce sr Nihilist as Ruric , save Madame Mi lentity of the exiled yward, senior part- r & Co., in Bond t, needless to say, th Sergius Selistoff m very plain sail- 10 did nothing by home and occupa- the prying gaze of ran no risk now of ler means than the UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 386 Arri vetl at the Rue des Saints Peres, he climbed a high staircase an iinquU>me, with a beating heart, and, knocking at a closed door, asked for Valerian Stefanovic. He was shown at once into a barely furnished salon. His fellow conspirator rose from his seat by a table at the far end to receive him. "I am Ruric Bras.soff," Mr. Hayvvard srad simply, as the door closed behind him. Stefanovic, with- out altering one muscle of liis inscrutable face, bowed a non-committing bow. The Chief was taken aback by so cool a reception. Middle- aged, wiry, suspicious, a lean and hungry man, with a mustache like IMephistopheles, this Vale- rian Stefanovic seemed the very embodiment of the calmly sardonic or calculating type of con- spirator. Not at all the sort of person to be lightly moved, Mr. Hayvvard felt, by superficial blandishments. The Chief looked at him, and despaired. It was clear if he was ta succeed at all in his present undertaking he nmst succeed not by frankness but by will and stratagem. It took him some time, of coarse, at the outset to persuade Stefanovic at all that he was really and truly Ruric Brassoff. Appearances were against him. Th.? sardonic con.spirator for some minutes stood entirely on the defensive, frankly incredulous. But even after this initial diffi- culty had been in part overcome, there remained the far h irder task of inducing his ally to give up the all-important letter. In despair of fair means, Mr. Hayward after a time began to feign distrust on his own side, and to doubt about the '.i^m .^fi 386 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. m HI safety of tho precious sealed envelope. Thus put upon his mettle, Stefanovic, after some brief parleying, produced the challenged document t'roni a little locked drawer, and hold it out cau- tiously before his visitor's eye, with his own two hands still carefully guarding it. Mr. Hayward scanned him close He was a lithe thin man — no match for a Brassoff physically. Quick as lightning, without a word 8p.)ken, tho Nihilist Chief pounced down upon him unawares, and seizing both wrists in his own, wrenched them rapidly round till the envelope droppetl from Stefanovic's grasp. Then, stooping down before the man had recovered from his pain and sur- prise, he picked it up in haste and tore it open. The seal was intact; so far, good; the envelope then had not been tampered witli. A wood fire burned bright in the open grate of the little salon. "Without a second's hesitation, Mr. Hay- ward flung the incriminating paper with Owen's name and address into the midst of the flame. It blazed up instantaneously, burned to whitu ash in a moment, and then flew up the chimney, a thin and twinkling sheet of spark-bespangled tissue. With a wild shout, Stefanovic, half wonder- ing, half comprehending what had happened, sprang forward in a fury and fronted his Chief, hot and trembling. "This is treachery!" he cried aloud with a very red face. "Treachery! Treason ! Chicanery ! You could have no good ground for such trickery as that! Not from Ruric Brassoff himself will I stand this treat- •M-.xly^ ERS. envelope. Thus after some brief ^ngcd document hold it out cau- •ith his own two Mr. Ilayward itho thin man — ally. Quick as ken, the Nihilist unawares, and wrenched them J dropped from ing down before is pain and sur- ind tore it open. >d ; the envelope h. A wood fire ite of the little ation, Mr. Hay- per with Owen's 1st of the flame, •urned to whito ip the chimney, )ark-bo8pangletl c, half wonder- had happened, tited his Chief, breachery!" he "Treachery! d have no good at! Not from and this treat- UNDKR SEALED ORDERS. 387 ment. Andyouare jiat in our history. Hunt me down, if you will, after due deliberation. But if you shoot me now, in hot blood, what, I ask, will you have accomplished? All Paris and Petersburg will know to-morrow that Valerian Stefanovic has shot Ruric Brassoff, the tyrant's chief enemy, in a private yuarrel. Then everything would come out. The Cause would be betrayed. Poor Rus sia would be lost. And Alexis SolLstoff would have good reas ju to laugh in his sleeve in his comfortable office in the Third Section." i ' Awed by that strong calm voice, Stefanovic '^'^- 388 UNDEa SEALED ORDERS. ' M paused and hesitatpd. He looked at his man dtibiously. Mr. Hayward still held the tiny revolver pointed straight at his follower's head. As Stefanov'3 doubted, his Chief, hanging for- ward, gave once more a sudden curl to his wrist, wrenched the revolver from his grasp with that powerful grip as of a Cossack hand, and flung it with a sweep to the other side of the little salon. It alighted harmlessly. Then, still covering his man cautiously with his own toylike weapon, he went on iu a quieter voice, "Valerian Stefano- vic, don't venture t-i bandy words or dispute my orders. I am still your commander. But things have turned out differently from my expectations. I don't trust you so implicitly now as I trusted you some months ago. You must accept your tx>sition, or blow everything to atoms. "We are standing this moment on the edge of a volcano. A brawl between you and me in a Paris lodging house would be fatal to the Cause. You must see that for yourself. Don't insist upon this folly." Stefanovic, undecided, fell back into an easy chair and glared at him sullenlj% "I don't know who you are," he muttered low, with lurking anger in his voice. "I'm not sure my plain duty isn't to leap at your throat and choke you." By this time Mr. Hayward liad regained all his natural calmness. "You're not sure," he answered with resolution, "and where you're not sure. Valerian Stefanovic, the wise man's obvious course is — not to be precipitate, but to .^^, y* i^■wf^^^)l^'i\y|^«^-^^l,v : t .c-...f>.v , v.,r'*v's»->^.'j, ."f^i,'" , ^w ER8. ced at his man held the tiny follower's head, of, hanging for- surl to his wrist, grasp with that nd, and flung it the little salon. till covering his like weapon, lie ilerian Stefano- Is or dispute my ler. But things ny expectations, ow as I trusted mst accept your atoms. We are ge of a volcano, a Paris lodging use. You must isist upon this 3k into an easy nly. "I don't )red low, with m not sure my mr throat and id regained all not sure," he wliero j'-ou're tie wise man's jipitate, but to UNDER SEALED ORDERS. wait and take counsel. "Will ymi, on your sole responsibility, wreck a whole organization? Will you destroy your country? Pause and think at least before yuu do it. And remember, tho mau who bids you pause and think is the Chief of the Revolution— Ruric Brassoff."- Stefanovic rocked himself up and down in the chair, as regardless of the pistol whose muzzle the elder man still held pointed at his temples as if it had been a child's popgun. "Well, Ruric Brassoff," he murmured slowly at lasl, "if Runo Brassoff you are, I believe you to be a traitor. But I'll pause and reflect, as you say, for I recognize in your hand- the one that so long has issued me orders. Still, I won't let the Cause suffer by my own uncertainty, I give you fair warning, I shall write to our friends in Petersbui'g and Moscow to inform them of this incident. I'll tell them exactly by what ruse you cheated me. It will be for them to decide. If they think as / think, then — " he rose as he spoke and faced the revolver fearlessly — "then, Ruric Brassoff," he said, 'pointing at him with one skinny finger, like embodied fate, "your brains will be scattered on the floor with-as little compunction as you'd scatter mine this minute if I refused to obey you." Mr. Hayward let the revolver drop slightly as he "answered in a very quiet toue, "That's well, friend Stefanovic — very well, very sensible. You apeak now with the voice of a good revolutionist. Death to the traitor, is the law of our being, the bond of our society. On no other basis can 390 UNDER SBAI.ED ORDERS. a conspiracy dofoml itself against internal trea- eon. I accept it niVBelf; kill nio, if I prove false; but I don't want to die till I've done the work that still remains for mo. And — I like you all the better and trust you all the more for the bold frank way you've spoken ta-day to ine. If you'd sliot me— well and good, you'd have committed an error of judgment; but I confess you would have been right in the main impulse that prompted you." He hated himself for his dtiplicity and back- sliding as he said it. On his own code of ethics, he knew St«fanovic was right, and ho himself was wrong. He admired the mau for his cour- age, his steadfastne'js, his devotion. This was the true Nihilist strain. This Avas an ally to be proud of. The revolutionist within liim recog- nized and rejoiced in a brother soul. "Well done," he said, after a short pause. "You did riglit, friend Valerian." But the other man stit down again, undisarmed in soul, and confrontetl him once more with a steely eye of suspicion. "That's all very well in its way," he said sulkily, "but I wish I'd shot, all the same. Stone dead Las no fellow. However, to prevent open scandal, I waive that point. Only, mind you, Ruric Brassoff, or who- ever else you may be, you shall not play this trick again with impunity elsewhere. I shall write to all the heads of our organization in Russia CO warn them at once of your vile plan of action. You won't get any more sealed en- velopes by treachery, I can promise you. I • Jm Mt. ' ER8. it internal trea- 1110, if I prove ill I've done tbo And— I like all the more for en t3-day to ine. )od, you'd have it ; but I confess 10 main impulse licity and back- n code of ethics, and ho himself lau tor his cour- tion. This \vas ■ as an ally ta be thin him recog- 3r soul. "Well msc. "You did aiu, undisarmed L'e more with a '8 all very well 'but I wish I'd i Las no fellow, ill, I waive that Jrassoff, or who- ill not play this where. I shall organization in f your vile plan more sealed en- romise you. I UNPER SEALED ORDERS. 891 shall write to each one of them — Ossinsky, Fo- menko, Clemens, Lisogub, everybody! They shall know how to deal with you when j'ou present yourself before them." A danger signal loomed distinct before Mr. Hay ward's inner eye. A double danger. True Nihilist that he was still, in spite of this episode, he didn't want to betray his Cause to the Third Section. And in his burning anxiety for Owen Cazalet's safety he didn't want young Sergius Selistofif's alias and address to fall Into his uncle Alexis's hands at St. 'Petersburg But unless Stefanovic would be warned in time, that might easily happen. For he might write, among oth- ers, to Ossinsky, of Kieff, whom the police, as Madame Mireflf wired to him, had lately arrested. With genuine alarm and interest gleaming bright in his eye, he leaned eagerly forward. "Take care what you do," he said in a voice oi solemn warning. "Whoever else you write to, don't write to Ossinsky, Our trusted friend was arrested at Kiefif some ten days ago, as I learn by telegram from Olga Mireff. If you write to him your letter will fall into the hands of the spies, and then all will be up with both of us — with the Cause — with Russia," "That's false!" Stefanovic answered, starting up and facing him with clinched fists, like a tiger at bay. "That's false! Vou're a liar! If Ossinsky had been arrested I should have heard of it at once. Who would hear before me? You're trying to intimidate me. You're a spy t you're a niouchardr' - -v- -^ '~.i 4 ^1 892 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. Mr. Haywnrd drow u telegram trininpbantly from liis poc-ket tiiul handed it to the man with a smile. Stofauovic glanced at it sidevvise. "Just mxived across tlie Gorman frontier. Couldn't communimito before. Am returning now poHt Iiaato to England. Very aerioua iio'.v.s. OsBiiLsky arrastod ten days ago at Kietf. All is known, except the English name of Sergius Selistoflf's son. That they can't find out. But the danger ia graat. Smuprgle him away at ouco, for Heaven's sake.. Glca Mikeff." "You see," Mr. Hayward said gravely, "I havo good reason for my action." But Valerian Stefanovic gazed at him fixedly ■with stern Macchiavellian eyes as he answered between his teeth under his wiry mustache, "This is false. This is forgery. This is lies, and you know it. If it wore true, Olga Mireff would have telegraphed to me. I'll bo careful what I do. I'll compromise nobody. But, Ruric Brassoff or spy, I distrust j'ou, I distrust you!" m-.: «», {.< ->->.>. Sk* Kits. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 898 tn triumphantly to tho man with Ht i t siilewise. ormaii frontier. Am returuing ry aerioua news. ,t Kioff. All is une of Sergius find out. But ) him away at iGA MiREFP." aid gravely, "I i at him fixedly as he answered wiry mustache, y. This is lies, ue, Olga Mireff I'll bo careful 4y. But, Ruric [ distrust you!" CHAPTER XLIII. TO MOSCOW 1 It was with a heavy heart indeed that Mr. Hayward returned that morning to his comfort- able hotel in the Rue de la Paix. For his chance of saving Owen and lone depended entirely upon the recovery, unopened, of the sealed envelopes. But the dangers in the way were now great and twofold, n Stefanovic wrote direct to Michael Fomenko at Moscow, that brother revolutionist would inforrh the whole Nihilist party in Russia and the wol^v; of their Chief's defection; the en- velope would be broken, its secret divulged, and no 'stone would be left unturned by the entire or- ganization to punish Dwen Cazalet for his deser- tion of their coiimon principles. And if on the other hand Stefanovic wrote direct to Ossinsky at Kieflf, then the letter would inevitably fall into the hands of General Selistoff 's spies, and Owen's life would be rendered doubly insecure by the hostility alike of the revolutionists and of the Russian government. Both parties at once would pursue him as a traitor with rele^ntless energy. What annoyed Mr. Hayward most, however, in this difficult crisis, was his inability to get 3f>4 UNDER SEALED OHDEK8. Hway ttt oiico to Borliti and Moscdw. He was lon(?iiif< to go, afid to coimnuuicjito with Olga Min)lV, who might bo able, ho hoiwd, either to intorvono on his ht'half with Valoriun Stofanovic, ortoprovonttheinan's lottorsovor reaching Kiofi: and so boing seized en route by the ropresenta- tiv«»!:', of tho Third Section. Madanu. Mireff's jjo- culia. jiositioii as the siipposf'd friend and ally of General Selistoff and the Czar inado her aid uh- Ijecially dcbi Pablo at such a juncture. Shaiing, as she did, tho secrets of both sides, she was iiblo from time to time to do the Cause guod service which none but such a clever and resourceful diplomatist would have had the power to render it. But, unfortunately, on the very threshold, delays and difHculties arose over the question of passports. Mr. Hayward was determined to go to Russia, and had brought with him for the pur- pose the usual perfunctory Foreign Office docu- ment, issued in the name of Henry Mortimer, a British subject — his former partner. It was neces- sary, however, to get the visa of the Russian embassy at Paris ; and over this visa, unexpected Iffouble cropped up, which it took Mr. Hayward two clear days to surmount, not to mention a certain sum of very hard swearing. The Nihilist Chief wasn't a man to fret and fume over trifles; but this inopportune delay caused him no small anxietj\ For perhaps before he could reach fJer- lin, Stefanovic's letters would be well on their Way for Kieff and Moscow, and Owen's fate would be sealed, either by Michael Fomenko or by Alexis Selistoff. , . . - .^- -, ,; SH8. iscovv. IIo wa?i •fito with Olgii ioiHid, eitlier to rian Stofunovio, • rejichiny Kioff the fopn'si'utu- vmt Mireft"s pe- leud and ally of iiiido her aid uh- ture. Shaiing, lb, sho was kblo ISO guod servico and rosonrcofiil power to render very threshold, • the question of etermined to go aim for the pur- ign Office docu- ary Mortimer, a >r. It was xieces- of the Russian u'sa, unexpected : Mr, Hayward )t to mention a r.^ Tlie Nihilist ime over trifles; 1 him no small 30uld reach Uer- )e well on their id Owen's fate ael Fomenko or UNDER SEALED ORDERS. n»5 At last, however, all difficulties were smoothed Hway; hard swearing produced its due reward; the passport wfis correctly examined and rise; and Henry Mortimer, gentleman, a British sub- ject, on his travels on the Continent, under the protec;tion of all foreign princes, potentates, and powers, took the fast through train from the dare du Nord for Berlin. He went straight on arrival to the Continental, the big fashionable hotel opposite the Friedrides- trasse railway station. Madame Miroff was there already waiting for him by appointment. Mr. Hayward lost no time in seeing her ami ex- plaining in part the object of his visit. Olga Mireff listened, all respectful attention. Not a shadow of mistrust disturbed her perfect confi- dence. For her, at least, it was clear the Cause and the man were one; women can grasp the abstract only through the aid of a concrete form ; sho had so implicit a belief in Ruric BrassoflP that whatever he said was to her the embodied voice of all free Russia. As for the Chief, he broke his plan to her by very tentative stages. Events had occurred, ho said, as he told her in London, which rendered it impossible for Owen Cazalet, who was also as she knew Sergius Selistoff the younger, to enter the English diplomatic service. He wouldn't ex- plain to her in full what those events were ; he wouldn't defend his action; ho was Ruric Brass- off; that, he hoped, would be enough for her. Olga Mireff could trust him. It had become necessary, however, as a consequence of tBs '^;t f ■■'4- •I 3»(t UNDER BKALEI) ORIiKRS. 'ohHnge of front, mid of OMaiiiHky'H iirroHt, that he Hhouhl go to RusMiti in laTson, in order to recovor piwHOHsion of ci'rtiiiii ooinpromiHin;^ piipfrH wliii'h might othorwiMu chuho l)otli ( )A'on and liiin- solf Vory soriouH trouhlo. And lio wiw going thero alniuHt at onco — diroct to Mohcovv. Miuiiinjo Miroff guvo ii atiirt. *'T(,i lluHsifi!" Bhu rriod. "To Mihoow! Oil, liuric MnisHoff, no! Lot n»i» go in your place. Don't expowo yonr siicrod lioftd! Don't trnst yonraolf in tlutt country!" Mr. lliiyward lifted hiw hand, palm open ho- foro him, dopre<;atingly. "Not that name, Olga; not that name!" ho whispered low. "Here, 1 am Henry Mortimer, a British Huhjoct. But I must go, all tiie Hame. To Ilussia. To Mos- cow. No one on earth hut myself could ijorfoini my business." "The risk's so ;^reat!" madamo cried, treni- bling with anxiety. "In Russia, you have every- where to nui the gauntlet of so mu(^h police es- pionage. Whenuis, for me, all's made so easy. I've Alexis Selistoff's recommendation wherever I go. I've the weight of the Aristocracy and the Bureaucracy at my back. I have hut to show my card, and the mere name, 'Olga Mircff,' is my i^asapart everywhere. Nobody Ihinks of (lues- tioning me. I'm the friend of the administra- tion," Mr. Hayward shook his head gravely, "l^our're a faitliful adherent, Olga," he said with that calm air of command that sat him so easily; "a most faithful adherent. !«Sfi»»«"Hii.S*i :-ifAi», upon I But I ■■■ RR8. ky'rt iirrcBt, tlmt lun, in order to iroiniHinf^imptTrt L ( )A'i)n iiud liiin- wiiHf^oing tli(;>ro v. "Tf. liuHsia!" Iviiric HriisHoff, Don't expoHo youiHolf iu thitt , palm optni hv- luit luimo, Olgii; 1..W. "Hero, 1 Kubjoct. But I XHs'm. To Mos- If could i)orfoi!n mo criod, trein- you havo evory- miK^h police os- i niado HO easy, lation wherever stocraoy and the ive hut to show Olga Mireff,' is y thinks of (lues- the administra- hoad gravely. Olga," he said I that sat upon adherent. But l^NOKR SKAI-KP ()KT>KR«, 3(^7 how often Hlmll I have to tell you that your ssoal at timoH outruns your diwrotion? I don't ask you for HU(!h aid. I ank for renoi> for lluric BriisHoflf was tn, then she would know he was either arrested or in flight for his life. In that case, she was to proceed by the first train to St. Petersburg, and to call at once on Genera) Selistoff, so as to worm out the circumstances. She could make an excuse for her unexpected return by giving the General some unimportant ■I •; .♦•%a 398 UNDER SEALED ORDEHS. unsigned intercepted letter from u London Ni- hilist, and pretending to have discovered from it that Ruric BrasHaff was in Russia. That would prove her watchfulness. "And if I'm arrested and taken to Petersburg," the Chief went on, very solemnly, "1 shall no doubt be examined in Alexis Selistoff's office. Or per- hajis ho may come to Moscow to prevent remov- ing me. Well, tako care you're there: be cau- tioua; be firm; and watch what I say, to govern yourt^elf accordingly." Madame Mireff's lips twitched; but she an- swered without any apparent qualm, "Yes, I will. You can trust me." Mr. Hay ward took slowly from his inner breast pocket a little revolver of very fine workman- ship. It was the same with which he had con- fronted Valerian Stefanovic in his rooms at Paris. He handed the pretty toy across to her — a marvel of modern skill, the final flower in .the evolution of pocset firearms. "Take this, Olga," he said calmly. "It's very preciouy. You can smuggle it across the frontier more easily than I can. You won't be searched. I may be. At ci:\v rate,' tako it. I may have need of it in Petersburg if ever we meet there. It's a beautiful little instrument. Carry it about with you always in the bosom of your dress, wherever you go; for we can n^ver tell before- hand at what minute it may be WKuted." Madame Mireff took it reverently, raised his hand to her lips, and kissed it as she did so. Mr. Hayward accepted the kiss with all the '«■.'»>»■-'»*- ■a**-'- )KDEii8. rora it, Loudon Ni- vo discovered from in Russia. That jss. "And it I'm sburg," the Chief shall no doubt be ''s office. Or per- V to prevent remov- u're there: be cau- lat I say, to govern tched; but she an' it qualm, "Yes, I "om his inner breast ery fine workman- which he had con- in his rooms at y toy across to her the final flov»rer in ,rms. "Take this, It's very preciouy. the frontier more .'on't be searched. :o it. I may have sver we meet there, jnt. Carry it about iom of your dress, 1 n^ver tell before- l>e w>;nted." rerently, raised his it as she did so. kiss with all the ^43 UNDER SEAT^ED ORDERS. 399 dignity of a monarch. It was clear she was stanch; woman - like, she sbono brightest in personal devotion. No qualms like Stefanovic's, there; no doubts, no suspicions. "I will," she answered once more, still holding his hand in hers. "Dear friend, I may not say your name aloud, it seems, but I utter it in my heart. I am yours, for Russia. I give you my body; I give you my soul. Take me; do as you will with me." She looked at him with her great eyes. Mr. Hayward bowed silently. Then they talked on for some minutos more, the Chief giving direc- tions in a most matter-of-fact voice — for he wouldn't give way—how Madame Mireff was to behave under certain contingencies, and ma- dame list;c;v:ng to them with the eagerness of a young girl to her lover. At last, he turned to her suddenly and asked in a different tone, "And have you seen anything of our friends since you've been here in Berlin?" "Very little, very few of them," madame an- swered, coming back to herself from a dreamy cloud land. "Everybody here knows me as the Czar's agent in England, and I have to be care- ful accordingly ; fof the two or three faithful in Berlin and ciiarlottenburg are suspected by the police and watched very closely. But I did just manage to have a word or two in private with my cousin Tania to-day ; and by the way, Tania told me a piece of bad news which this more im- portant matter of yours half put out of my head for the moment, but which you certainly ought 'm '■i 400 rXDER SEALED OKDERS. "r*^fc to know at once. It was about Ossinsky's ar- rest, or rather one of its consequences, Tania hadn't heard Ossinsky was taken; for sonn' reason or other, our friends at Kieff seenieil afraid to write or telegraph to her; so she com mittod quite unwittingly a most unfortunate mistake. She sent on letters to Ossinsky, ad dressed to her here, which of course will fall now into the hands of Alexis Selistoff's myr midons." * Mr. Hayward gave a start of sur^jfise and alai-m. "Letters to Ossinsky!" he exclaimel taken aback. "From whom, and from where". This is serious indeed. Did she know their contents?'' Madame saw ho was deeply moved, "From Paris, I think, " she answered, trembling. "From Valerian Stefanovic~so Tania told ^me. H- wrote to her, urging her strongly to forwanl these letters, which ho said were important, t ■ Ossinsky at Kieff, and to Fomenko at Moscow. So she forwarded them at once bj' the usual channels. I don't know the contents, though. Stefanovic told Tania nothing more about them than that they were of immediate and pressing necessity." Mr. Hayward rose fi'ora his sesit and paced uj) and down the room in a turmoil of doubt and fear — not for himself, but for Owen. "This is terrible," he cried at last. "You can't think what she's done. Ossinsky's letters would of courae be seized at Kieff. They would doubt- less contain some allusion to the others Stefan* J. i _. i>^.!«t4s.Siii«»f4<'.y;3«^MtMia^i^8»ipr;M|K9^ DER8. ut Ossinsky's ar- equonces, Tania taken; for sonic at Kieff seenicnl her; so she com (lost unfortunate to Ossinsky, ail course will fall I Sclistoff' 8 myr of sur^jfise and !" he exclaimel and from where V she know their "From "Prom moved, •embling a told me. fL • >ngly to forward ere important, t > enko at Moscow, ice bj' the usual jontents, though, more about them ate and pressing UNDEE SBALKD OEDER8. ovic had sent to Fomenkoat Moscow. Fomenko would be arrested, too, and with him would be arrested most damaging papers. But that's not all. Before ho could be taken, he might do much harm. He might divulge to others a fundamental secret I wished kept most invio- , lablo. He might ruin all. He might explode the whole mine. I must go on— at on^e— by the first train— to Moscaw." Madame Mireff started to her feet. The wo- man within her overcame her. "No, no!" she cried, flinging her arms round him in a transport of tertor. "You mustn't! You mustn't! For Russia's sake, you must stop. Don't venture to go. Don't expose yourself to this danger!" A deadly pallor spread over Ruric Brassoff's white face. For Russia's sake! What a mock- ery ! When he was sacrificing Russia to lone- and Owen! He unwound her arms slowly. He stood erect and immovable. "For Russia's sake," he said in a very cold stern voice, for he was sen- tencing himself to death, "I must go; I must give myself up ; I must brave the unspeakable. For Rus-iia's sake, I must die. It's all I can do now for her " esit and paced up )il of doubt and Owen. "This is You can't think letters would of ey would doubt- le others Stefan* . UNDER SEALBD ORDEBS. CHAPTER XLIV. / TBAPS FOR FOXKS. Alexis Selistoff sat in a very good humor in his cabinet at the Bureau of Police in St. Petersburg. 'Twas with evident gusto that the Chief of the Third Section twirled the ends of his gray mustache between his big bronzed fin- gers. Tall, well-set, erect, a great giant to look upon, with his commanding face and clear-cut, classical features, Alexis Selistoflf seemed the very picture of what Owen Cazalet might be- come after forty-five years of military service in Russia. To the towering height and colossal limbs of all his kin he added the fine bearing and stem methodical air of a well-trained soldier. But in spite of his cheerful mien, a grim smile played round the corners of those cruel thin lips. "This is good, Nikita," he murmured, musi- cally, to his chief dork, in pleased and ruminat- ing tones. "We've run our vermin to earth at last ! We shall cage them soon, now, these bur- rowing underground foxes!" " ." "Number Four still baffles us, though!" Ihe chief clerk remarked, pensively. "Number Four still baffles us," Alexis Selis- j»(<; ■*«*» ' :s. r good humor Police in St. gusto that the Bfl the ends of ? bronzed fin- ; giant to look and clear-cut, T seemed the let might be- [litary service it and colossal e bearing and aiued soldier, a grim smile ruel thin lips, •mured, musi- and ruminat- in to earth at )\v, these bur- thoiigh!" ur at Moscow, ber Two's Stef- Qsky; Number shall know to- getting at him sclaimed. iswered. "See h didactic con- 3vic, when he as clearly un- xrested a fort- i the person or them on from iric Brassoff— )r the present 3venty-five is F remains also come on direct to Ossinsky's house at Kioff; and there we'll catch him easily. But it isn't likely that'll happen. The people ut Kieff would bo sure to communicate at onco the fact of Ossinsky's ar- rest to that mysterious woman, ciphered as Number Forty-three, whom Madame Mireff has followed about so indefatigably round Europe, and whom she tracked tho other day to a house in Berlin. Number Forty-three, in turn, would no doubt communicate it at once to Ruric Braas- off. So Ruric Brassoff won't go to Kielf. But ho will go, unless I'm immensely mistaken, to Moscow." "Put his head into the lion's mouth?" the chief clerk murmured, incredulously, "And get it bitten off — yes!" General Selistoff answered, with warmth. "See here, Nikita! you don't know that man as well as I do. He was eighteen mouths in my own regiment in the Caucasus. He'd do or dare anything. If Ruric Brassoff wants to come to Russia, to Russia Ruric Brassoff will certainly come. And he'd walk " down tho Neuski Prospect at three in the ftiter- noon, with a flower in his buttonhole, if every policeman in Petersburg was sharp on tho look- out for him at all the street corners." "But your excellency's pt^n is—?" Milri*a asked, in suspense, . _.. . . ,:.. - "This. You shall carry it out yourself. Why, nothing could be easier. You take tho first train across the Gei'man frontier. If we telegraph from Petersburg or Moscow, that would excite suspicion. So you get out at ; i J 1 1 t-^^^^i^^v^ i-: llf .j« 408 tTNDER MEALED ORDERS. Konigsberg, or Eydtkuhuen, or where you will, and sond h message in cipher to Stefanovic at Paris, signinfj it Number Three, which is Os- sinHky's right signature. Here's yonr telegram. I'll write it out. Strike, while the iron'H hot. Th(^ sooner we put this plan into exwution the bettor." He dip|)ed a pen hastily into th(^ ink-bottle by his side and scribbled down a few lines. "Stefanovic, 'iH Rue des Saints Pt^res, Paris, Just across the frontier. Letter, inftti uctioas to hand. Rumored arrest entirely unfoundetl. Police on our track. Telegraph in saniH cipher at once to Number Four, at Moscow. His let- ters have gone wrong. Send openly to him by name. No dantjor at all. Del aj' may l>e fatal. "NuMBKR Thrke. Eydtkuhnen." Alexis SelistoflF sur^reyed his handicraft with a quiet smile of cruel satisfaction. "That'll do, I flatter myself," he said, hand- ing it across to Nikita. "When it's put into cipher." The chief clerk ran hia eye over it, enchanted. . "Capital, excellency," he answered, rubbing his hands softly together at the well-planned ruse. "He'll telegraph back, of course, to Number Four, by his real name a?id addreas, and you'll instruct the telegraph administration to intercept the message." "Quite so," the general answered, still grimly triumphant. "I fancy it's a good c«rd. And " vjryv^tF*' BRfl. where yoii will, bo Stefanovic at 0, which is On- i yoiir telegram, the iron's hot. to ex«}ciition tho ) the ink-bottle few linPB. in P{>re8, Paris, or. inRti uction.s rely unfoundetl. in aanif cipher >soow. Tfis let- •enly to him hy y may be fatal. 5y«ltkuhnen. " handicraft with he said, hand- i.4(>r'"\.:i- ■ 'n it's put into s ; ' ■, ; .;, r it, enchanted. ,■ ^' ,'■ .*■ " - reered, rubbing --^r' •;;• ■ J e well-planned Hi ■:,}' \' of course, to ',"•'>'•,■• e and addreas, . - - , , ■ * i administration ed, still grimly od ('«rd. And UNDER BEALED ORDERS if it turnH up trumps we ought to be able to catch nut only this insignifioHnt Nuniber Four, whoever ho may l)e, but, what's mu(!h more im- portant, Ituric Brassoff himi^olf in jMjrsou also." "You think soi'" Nikitii mused, interroga- tively. "Think y I'm almost sure of it. Look your facts in ilie face. Kuric Brassoff's well on his way to Moscow before now, and we'll watdi for him carefully, at Nuniber Four's address, whoro- ever wo find it. . . . Mind, no precipitancy, Nikita; caution, caution, caution! Don't try to arrest Number Four, however sure you may be of him, without my leave. What I want is not 80 much him as Ruric BrassoflF. It's clear Ruric Brawjotf is at present going tho rounds of his fellow-conspirators for some very serious and important purpose. Sooner or later, ho'll get on to Moscow. - We must watch and wait. Better bide our own time. , . . Now, go, and work that telegram out into the cipher." • 1^ -.,„ j-A ■>;?:;, A-:?- ■•'•: ^ nm.' I 410 UNDER 8RALKD ORDRIW. CHAPTKP XLV. \ I.A RUHHE. t*^-- It isn't ho easy for a "dontnibautl |)erson," hh they nay in RuHsia, to get acroHw tho frontier to Moscow unobserved. Even the faniilinr tweed Huit of tlio British tourist, liowever large itn checks, doesn't suffice to protect one. . Hay- ward was sf) conscious, indeed, of tl Tiber- loss difficulties which lay in his way, that on second thought he didn't attempt to go by the direct route via "Wilna and Minsk, but tjok the orosa-coutitry train instead by Diinaburg and Smolensk. At the last little town, he descended for the night at the second-ralo hotel — accommo- dation is bad off tlje main lines, of course — mean- ing to continue his journey next day to Moscow. But Russia is Russia. Along certain familiar tourist tracks, it is true, the police- and the inib- lic are fairly accustomed by this time to the in- o.\plicable vagaries of the western traveler; and tliough all foreign visitors are duly noted and numbei'ed and kept in view by the authorities, from the moment thoy arrive till they leave the country, they are not opouly molested by miinite or obtrusive police supervision. Off the beaten nw. nil jwrson," hh th« frontier to fiimilinr tweed 'over 'urge itw >ue. . Hay- >f tl tiber- i way, that ou >t to go by tho k, but t jok tho Diiiiaburg and I, he de8cendetel — Hocommo- coiirse — mean- 'ay to Moscow. :jrtnin familiar 3- and the jnib- ime to the in- traveler; and Illy noted and le authorities, bhey leave the ted by minute ys the beaten *■ UNDER SEAI.KD OKDRRfl. 411 track, linwovor, n Htratigcr is a rarity, and be ban to iKH-oimt for biH pri'Honce and iiin btminoHH in the pbico to the IjchI nirignateH by a nioHt Htringoiit iiKiuisition. Mr. ilayward Hi)on found he had committed a griovouH error iii miiking tluit ill-advirt(Ml dt^tuur Ity Diiiiaburg. Tho uu- thoritioM wore most curious as to bis rnasims fof adopting HO unusual a routo. Why bad bo turned 80 far"* out of bis way if ho was going at last to Moscow? Why bad ho stopped tho night at Hucli a place tin Smolensk? Why did bo want to seo anything of rural Kussia? Why had he tried at all to break bis journey anywhere? Mr. Ilayward answered, as imconcernodly as ho could, with a very innocent air, that b »va8 an English tourist who wanted to form an opinion for liimself of tbo agricultural provincos. But that answer only provoked the ispravnik's sus- picions still more. "To write about it in the papers, I suppose," he said, with a slight sneer, in his very bad French; for Mr. Hay ward of course affected complete ignorance of bis native Russia. "Yes, that's tho way with j'ou En- glish. You spy out everything. But we Rus- sians don't want you to come peering about our country without good reason given. You must justify your presence bj' business or affairs. Let me see your passport again, if you please. Mon- sieur Mortimer," Mr, Hayward banded it back to him. "From Paris," the ispravnik said slowly, conning it over to himself, with the true Jack-in-office air of great wisdom and cuuciiDg. ' * And you stopped ! 1 ' iJ ^^'^^mmmmsi r^mi-mif'-' 4t3 UXDKlt SEAI.ED OKD^RS. at Berlin on the way, "Well, chat's odd now, certainly. Why should an Englishman come from London to Moscow via Paris and Diiua- biirg? This thing must be looked into, sir. You are detained for the present, while I coro- , municate with Petersburg." It was with profound misgivings that Mr, Hay ward retired that evening into his narrow bodroom at the Smolensk inn. He slept very badly. The room was confined, stuffy, ill-ven- tilated. Ho felt a choking in his throat. To- ward morning, he began to get distinctly ill. He tried to rise, but found ho wasn't strong enough. Hastily, he sent round for a local doctor. The doctor came, and examined him with some care. Very little doubt what was t'le matter, ho said. It was a case of diphtheria. Diphtheria I Mr, Hay ward's heart sank within him at the sound. He must get up at all risks, doctor or inspector to the cimtrary notwithstand- ing, and pursue his journey straight ahead to Moscow. If he died here at Smolensk — why, Owen's life wouldn't bo worth six n^onths' pur- chase. That vindictive StefanovicI Those in- criminating papers! He was a British subject — he brandished his passport ostentatiously in the doctor's face; he mtifsf go on at once; it was important business. But tbf3 doc^tor shook his head. At St. Peters- burg or Moscow, perhaps, where people are more . accustomed to tJie ways of those mad English, his protest might have been successful. At Smolensk, a mere straggling country town with :^W«?a^^s:*ii^'---tl;'^■;fc; that's odd now, Inglishman come Paris and Diiua- looked into, sir. sent, while I com- givings that Mr. into his £arroAv He slept very 3(1, stuflFy, ill-ven- 1 his throat. To- get distinctly ill. he wasn't strong )und for a local d examined him doubt what was •ase of diphtheria. 1 heart sank within fet up at all risks, ary notwithstand- itraight ahead to Smolensk — why, six Kionths' pur- lovicl Those in- a British subject ostentatiously in ) on at once; it . At St. Peters- ) people are more se mad English, successful. At untry town with UNDER SEALED ORDERS, 413 fi big military garrison, it was worse than use- less. The doctor gave orders to the host as he wont down the stairs, "See at your peril you don't let that lunatic in number 1-^ escape. His disease is contagious, it might become epidemic." And the isprav-nik had warned hin the night be- fore, "If you allow the suspected person in this room to leave the hotel without a written order from the superintendent of police, you shall an • sw-er for it with your own back." And the host nodded wisely. For three days, accordingly, Mr. Hay ward lay there, between life and death, in an agony of sus- pence, remorse and LGii.>r. If he died, all was up ; if he lived, he might arrive too late at Mos- 03 w to avert the catastrophe. And when the diphtheria itself began to get better, the doctor reported he wtts suffering as well from low ma- larial fever. It was that hateful inn. Mr. Hay- ward fumed and fretted. Germs tlew about visibly. Week passed after week, and still he lay there like a log. What might be happening mean- while at Moscow, he hadn't the slightest idea. He daren't telegraph to London; he daren't write to Olga Mireff at Berlin for news. He lay there all alone and untended, in that dirty littlo room, eating his heart out with delay, and retarding his own. recovery meanwhile by his profound anxiety. ;? ' - *- One thing, however, he had happily been able to do. The very first evening, after the ispravnik had gone, and while he feared detection, he had written a hasty line to Fomenko at Moscow, and t ■ <' -' I! ■1 'tm m 414 UNDER SEALED OBnEBS. posted it openly, though unobserved, in the letter- box of the hotel. It was in cipher, of course, but otherwise plain enough. • It said these few words only: - ,^u. ._ "I am on my way to Moscow. Do uothin;. raph till I come. Believe no foolish ravings. I may be delayed, but wait for my arrival. Re- member, I am your chief. Implicit obedience is more necessary than ever. Yours, for Russia, ■ . , .. "RuRic Brassoff." And at St. Petersburg, meanwhile, General Alexis Selistoff had received news with great delight of a suspicious person who had de- scended unexpectedly at the hotel at Smolensk. Brisk telegrams passed quickly to and fro be- tween the Bureau of the Third Section and the little provincial office. The stranger had come from England, it seemed, and had an English passport; but he was last from Paris direct, as shown by the recent insa of the Russian em- bassy. Moreover, he had stopped on his way at Berlin, no doubt for communication with the refugees at Charlottenburg. Alexis Selistoff twisted his grizzled gray mustache still moio nervously than usual in his intense excitement Could this be the man they were so eagerly in search of — the 475 who was to proceed on tho quest cf Number Four to Moscow? What more likely? "What more natural? He would have gone in that case from England to Paria — to see Valerian Stefanovic, as they knew 475 had done. W. tnisBs, JTved, in tlio letter- )her, of course, but id these few words pow. Do nothing foolish ravings. mj^ arrival. Re- {)licit obedience is •urs, for Russia, Jic Brassofp." iin while, General uews with great m who had de- lotel at Smolensk. Sy to and fro he- 'd Section and th« kranger had come '■ had an English 1 Paris direct, as the Russian em- ipped on his way inication with the Alexis Selisloff stache still moio tense excitement ere so eagerly in proceed on the 3W? What more He would have i to Parifi — to see 3W 475 had done. trNi>sm ssALvm i^mi^sitB. 415 Then on to Berlin to visit that mysterious wo- man whom Olga Mireflf was always dc^ging, and who no doubt had forwarded the letters to Osshji^cy at KieflF. Thenoe tD Moscow by devious ways — such as Smolensk via Diinaburg. Alexis Selistoff stroked his chin with unconcealed de- light. They were running the fox to earth at last, it was clear. He believed he had his hand on Ruric Brassoff. * But he WHS in no hurry to take him till he knew all was safe. He must prove it up to the hilt. He must be sure of his prisoner. And meanwhile, good Mr. ispravnik at Smolensk, I beg of you, keep a sharp eye -on this man. Don't let him e8cai>e, but above all don't Jet him guesB for a moment you're watohing him. And then, one day later, good news from Mos- cow! Ha, hal a great victory ! "The telegram in cipher which your excellency desired should be interrupted en route has come to band to lay. It is directed" — Alexis Selistoff 's eyes gleamed bright at the sight — ^^"to Michael Fomenko, x*4 Slav Bazar Street." The Chief of the Third Section held it up for some minutes in triumph and gazed at it, ^efo^e he proceeded to decipher it. This, then, was Number Four's address ! 24 Slav Bazar Street! His ruse had succeeded. He had found out the house where 475, be he Ruric Brassoff or not, was 80 soon to present himself. After a minute or two, he began painfully to si^ell oxit the words and sentenoes of the ciphered measage. They didn't tell him much, to be sure; I '. 416 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. but as far as they v/ent, they confimied his sus- piciOHS. :;;'•;; r^-rJ "Michael Fomenko, 24 Slav Bazar Street- Number Throe telegraphs to mo from Eydt- kuhneu that he is safe across the frontier, and that rumors of his arrest are entirely false. Po- lice on the track. Beware of 475. He came tt) me here and tried to extort from mo my copy of sealed envelope. I believe he has turned traitor. Perhaps 4'} has turned traitor with him. "Number Two. Paris." ' . i(t Alexis Selistoff pressed his bell. The chief clerk entered. "Nikita," the General said, holding the tele- gram in one hand, "this is very important. Wire at once to the ispravnik at Smolensk that no diffi- culties must be thrown in the way of th^ English- man Mortimer. As soon as he's well enough, he is to bo permitted to go where he will, to Moscow or elsewhere. But on no account must he be lost sight of for one single second, or allowed to get across the frontier out of the country." The chief clerk bowed. "It shall bo attended to, excellency," he answered, all compliance. "And, look here," Alexis Selistoff went on, thinking it out as he spoke. "I shall want this fellow watched — watched, closely, discreetly, by a competent person, I can't trust that meddling busybody of au inspector at Smolensk. He'll frighten our man, and give him warning before- hand. He's got no gumption. That's not what I -■■iTi^.'iiS'trv.T-^'^ RI>BRS. confirmed his sub- lav Bazar Street- mo from Eydt- the frontier, and ntirely false. Po- 475, He came to om mo my copy of has turned traitor, ivith him. Two. Paris." bell. The chief , holding the tele- " important. Wire •lecsk that no diflSi- ay of th^ English- 's well enough, he le will, to Moscow nt must he be lost or allowed to get untry." v shall bo attended 11 compliance, elistoff went on, 'I shall want this >ly, discreetly, by < 1st that meddling Smolensk. He'll 1 warning before- rhat's not what I M,* UKDER SEALED ORDERS. 417 want. We must give him, above all things, rope enough to hang himself with. . . . Nikita, you must go yourself. You're the man for the place. You'v^e managed the business at Eydtkuhnen very well. You must manage this one too. . . . Run down to Smoletisk as a commercial traveler. I'll give you a note to the inspector completely superseding him. Let this fellow who calls him- self Mortimer have his own way in everything and do just as he likes. Throw dust in his eyes, and no obstacles i n his path. Make the inspector apologize to him for needlessly annoying a Brit- ish subject. Wait a bit; write a letter, before you go, reprimanding our ispravnik; and make the ispravnik show it to him. Tot> much zeal — you know the kind of thing — diplomatic, cautions — too much misplaced zeal in interfering with subjects of friendly power. But don't overdo it. Remember, if it's Ruric Brassoflf, Ruric Brass- off 's a Ru8sian,^-and he knows our ways; to put things toe strong would only open his eyes and excite his sirspioion. Let him go where he likes, but keep a close watch on him. Not obtrusive, don't you know. No soldiers dressed up in plain clothes and walking in pairs, one, two; one, two; onf^, two; like a regiment, A few picked ' men, all unlike, all natural. Don't rouse his attentifJn. But, one or othei of you, keep firm watch on him till he gets to Moscow. I'll mar^; ago about Mr. Michael Fomenko myself. His liouse shall be watched too. We're on the point of surprising them. " tft ! i 1^ 418 UNDEB SEALED OBDRItB. \ CHAPTER XLVI. , , ,^vir ( OPOSSIXa THE RUBICON. Weeks pu. jed before Mr. Hay ward was well enough to lea^'^ Smolensk. But before he left, it was some comfort to him to see that all suspi- ciou as to 'ais nationality had entirely disap- peared, and that the police had ceased to trouble themselves about his movements in any way. Indeed, he had the satisfaction of knowing that the blustering inspector had to eat humble pie; for the fellow cfime to the hotel, while Mr. Hay- ward Wfis still very ill, and made most profuse apologies for his unintentional rudeness to a British subject, Nay, he even showed, at the same time, by oflficial command, a departmental letter he had received that day from his chief at St. Petersburg. Mr. Hay ward smiled to read it — 'twas so intensely Russian. He saw in a mo- ment it was meant to be taken two ways. The supposed angr}' Englishman was expected to ac- cept It as a complete snub for the inspector and a victory for himself, while the inspector's pride was gracefully salved at the same time by a careful reservation or two as to the abstract right iRBB, ri. CON. *^:^. r^.iki^ -■iii^?. lywnrd was well it before he left, ee that all suspi- entirely disap- ceased to trouble its in any way. of knowing that eat humble pie; while Mr, Ilay- le most profuse I rudeness to a showed, at the a departmental rom his chief at smiled to read it le saw in a mo- iwo ways. The expected to ac- inspector and a Qspector's pride ime time by a le abstract right UNDEU SEALED ORDBRS. 419 of the police to interrogate foreigners whenever they thought it necessary. Nikita, indeed, had done hi-? work well. Ho had succeeded in blinding even Ruri(; Rrassoff. From that day forth, accordingly, the police gave him no more trouble. He wa.s allowed to do as he liked; and what he specially noted was the gratifying fact that no spy or detective was sot to watch him. Mr. Hay ward knew well the Russian spy, his clumsiness and his awkward- ness. He remembered him in the great up- heaval of 1871 as though it had been but yester- day. It was the easiest thing in the world, indeed, to recognize the mouchard. That em- barrassed air, that ostentatious carelessness, that glance full of suspicion and fear which he fixes upon the countenance of every passer-by, those are signs which can never deceive an experi- enced eye like Ruric Brassofif's. And yet, those men shrink from looking you full in the face, for all that. They skulk and glance sidewisp. They slink by and look askance to see if yoi notice them. So different from the frank gft :e of the honest commercial traveler, for 3xampitj, who came from Petersburg to Smolen^ik during Mr. Hay ward's illness, and who talked bad French to him now an( again, when he was be- ginning to be convalescent, in the poky little billiard-room. A good-humored, light-hoarted fellow, that blunt commercial gentleman — be traveled in tea — but provincial, verj'. It was amusing to heur him discuss Mr. Hayward's dress and Mr. Hayward's English manners, be- I I <■ HI 420 UNDER 8RALE1) ORDERS. fore his very face, to the smiling and nodding hotdl keeper. Of course, lie had no idea tho man in the tvvoed suit understood Russian, so ho was frankness itself in Lis brusciue comments ou the strnnger. "That's the way with these English, you know," ho remarked to the landlord one even- ing, taking his cigarette from his mouth, and laughing unob^^'usively. "Tliey're tho most conceited nation in Europe, tj my mind — tlie most Holf-confident, the most pigheaded. At Orel, whore I come from, we always caH them pigs of English. This fellow, for instance, talks about Russia already, after six weeks in the country, spent mostly in bed, as if he knew all about it, by a sort of intuition. He'll go homo and write a book on us, I expect, before he's done. 'Six Weeks in Russia, With a Peean for a Constitution' — that's tho English way. Ah, we know a thing or two, I can tell you, down yon- der at Orel ! — I beg your pardon, monsieur, for addressing my compatriot for a moment in his own tongue; he understands but little French, as you are aware. We Easterns are still barba- rians. I was remarking to him upon tho singu- lar insight you English passess in dealing with the affairs of foreign countries. Your knowl- edge of our character, for example, after so brief an acquaintance with our people, seems to me nothing short of marvelous. But there ! you En- glish lead civilization, of course. The French and Germans don't understand that. We Rus- sians, who watch the game from afar, we know DiCRg. ing and nodding liid no idea tho od Russian, so ho quo comments ou so Euffljsh, you ludlord one oven- liis mouth, and ley're tho most ■i my mind— tlio pigheaded. At id ways caH them "or instance, talks lix weeks in tho Its if he knew all He'll go home :poct, before he's i^ith a Paean for a ih way. Ah, wo . you, down yon- 5n, monsieur, for a moment in his ut little French, 3 are still barba- L upon tho singu- I in dealing with I. Your knowl- )le, after so brief )le, seems to me t there I youEn- ». The French that. We Rus- a afar, wo know UNDRR BKAT.BD ORDERS. 4fl it." And he winked at tho landlord, obtru- HJvely. Mr. Hayward smiled a grim smile. An hon- est fellow this traveler, though i:e thought him- Holf so clever. But if Alexis Selistoff could have st'en his chief clerk Nikita, as he uttered those words, both in Russian and in French, with per- foot Bolomnity, ho would have clapped the man on the back with effusive delight, and have rec- ommended him to the Czar forthwith for imme- diate promotion. At last the time came when Mr. Hayward might move. He was still weak and ill, but the good-hunaored commercial gentleman from (^rel, wlio traveled in tOa for a fimi in Peters- burg, kindly volunteered to see him off at tho station. That was really very nice of him. Mr. Hayward didn't notice, however, that aftor seeing him off, the good humored commercial gentleman, unencumbered by sample boxes, went round to the other platform, and entered a special carriage on the selfsame train, by tho opposite platform — a carriage already occupied by two distiuguished gentlemen of military ap- pearance. Nor did he observe, either, when they reached Moscow, that one of these gentle- men followed him close in a sleigh to the Hotel du Bazar Slav, where he meant to pui up, so as to be near Fomeuko. That night, Ruric Brassoff slept sound! - ^n a bed in the town he knew so well. It was straugo to be there again. It made the Russian heart throb hard within his weather-beaten breast to . *1 ! ';! 423 sa^r VNDBR SRALRD ORDERS. feol himsolf oiico more in the great heart of KusHia. J • ^^ N«»xt morninpf early, he rose, and after Iiin euffee aud roll— how good thoy tasted ! — Hauntend out into the Htroots, vvitli a Hvvinging gait, look- ing about him right and loft, like the Euglisli touriat ho iMirHonatod. Yos, it was Moscow still, that old familiar Moscow^. The time was win- ter. The same nipping dry air, the sam 3 slusli in the streets, the same dirty brown bucw, tlu^ same fur-covered mob of passors-by as ever. In tlio bright eastern suulight, the gaudy Oriental decorations of the Kromliu glittered and shim- mered as of old in barbaric; splendor; tbt» churches stared dowa upon him with myriad hues of green and gold aa in liis nbadowy child- hood. The icicles shone on the eaves as ever. Only he himself was changed. He saw it all now with western not with Russian eyes. It was a measure to him of tho distance he had traversed moau^vhilo. He used once to think Moscow so grand a city. The streets, he soon noticed, as he strolled on his way, were chock full of spies. In point of fact, Moscow was just then passing through oue of her periodical nihilistic scares. The Czar was expected before long, peo'ple said, aud po- lice activity was everywhere at its amplest. Mr. Hayward's heart beat high with long uii wonted excitement. This was just like old times! Spies! spies! how familiar! And how comic they were, too, these temporary detec- tives; private soldiers dressed up as civilians by >RDKB8. tho great heart of 'oso, finil after liis tiistod! — Huuiitercd nngiiiK grtit, look- ft, like the English t wan Moscow still, Die time wan win- air, tho wimj sluhli ' brown Hiiow, till! ors-hy Jis evfir. In ho gaudy ( >rieutHl :littored and shiui- rii! Hplendor; thi» him with myriad JiiH shadowy child- the eaves as ever. 3d. lie saw it all Russian eyes. It 10 distance he had ied once to thiuii I, as he strolled on spies. In point of issing through oik; cares. The Czar 3ple said, and po- 9 at its amplest, gh with long un IS just like ol( miliar! And how temporary detec- up as civilians by rWDRR HBAI.RD ORnHUS. 4t8 thn bittch, .'iiul |)Htroling the ntreetH here and then' in seanh of tho contraband. But they tk iH/ notice of him. Thej- moonwl alKjut in little [cirfcieH, like men ju'cnstimnxl for many years to roiicertod movempiit, and intraptihle of forgetting the ingrained Irshohh of the drill-sergeant. Then tln>ir dr»!8H, too, how grotosqne! In tho hurry of the moment, it was impussil)lc ^o obtain different clothes for each; so whole sc^uuds had the same liiits, tho snm^ coats, the same trouners. Tho v"Ty variations only heightened the absurdity. Si.iijo carried light nticks, to give them ease and >\v'aggor; while others wore j^'reat blue specta- cles poised awkwardly on their noses to make them look as much as j).»8aibl(3 like imivorsity -indents. But it wa.s all in vain; soldier mid spy, soldier and spy, soldier and spy, was writ ton in plain /ords across tho face of every one of thorn. However, they nf>vor glanced at Mr. Hay ward at all. A mere EnfijHsh tonrist! He observed that with pleasure. Xot a soul turned to look at him. Only a long way off, at the opposite sido of the street, a very different person lounged slowly and unobtrusively along tho pathway after him This {Mirson didn't in the 1 oast re- semble a spy, or a common soldier either. Ho •vas a gontlem.in in appearanco, and might have !n>en taken for a doctor or a lawv«r or a govern- ment official. Ho never came unpleasantly near ^Ir. Hayward, or excited attention iii any way. He merely lounijetl on, keeping his man always in sight, and occasionally lookirfg in a noncha ■ ■Mr' 434 UNDER HRALP.n OKDKKrt. lant way into shopn at tiw c;)in«i'. Hu nhadowcd him iinporcoptibly. At last Mr. Hay ward returned, and iu llm moHt casual faahiou iiuule his way onco uif»re to tho Blttv Bazar Street . At No. 24 ho stoppcil short and rang tho boll. Tho donrnilc or porter anwwored tho Hiimmnns at onco. "Is Michin! FoHJonki) at homo?" Mr. Hayward asked boUUy — for tho lirnt time, in Riiiwian. ,-/■ f,' And tho porter made aiirtwor, "Ho is at homo. Third floor. Letter H on tho corridor. Go oa \xi> and you'll find him." ^ Mr. Hayward went up, and knocked at tlii door tho man id indicated. "Who's there?" a shrill voii i awkod fn-ni within. And Mr. Hayward replied in a v ery low ton< , almoHt whispering: ,« .n .^ .;,i "175. Open to him." There was a second's hesitation; then, a man'.; face peeped half uncertain through the chink of the 'loor. It was a timid young tace. Mr. Hii) - wa ' was prepared for such indecision. Quid; as lightning, he took a card and a poncil from his pocket. Before the man's very eyes, h) wrote down in a well known hand the magi(5 name, ""Ruric Brassoff." Fomenko stared at it for a second in blank amazement and doubt. Then, making his mind up suddenly, he opened the door wide. "Come in," he said, with a tinge of some- thing like awe in his ringing voice. "475, I welcome vou.'' )RI>KRrt. nor. HuHhudow'i'd :urnored. Tlio door shut fatal Htop was taken. He was in HiisHia once more, talking Kussian as of old, and closotod cIdho in Moscow with a siis- pectod Nihilist. But at tho very samo moment that ho mounted the stairs of nnmbor :il, tho gentlemanly person who had boon following him down tho street passed carelessly under tl»e big gateway of a house just (jppDsito. As ho passed it his man- ner altered; ho grew grim and fornml. On tho first floor, ho entered a room on tho right with- out knocking. In it sat tho good-humorod com- mercial person from Orel, who traveled in tea, and who had come on from Smolensk. He was seated in the gloom, a little way back from tho window; tho blind was pulled rather more than halfway down; and in his hand ho helrl an opera-glass. He was looking across toward the other house opposite. Tlie gentlemanly jjorsou nodded. "Well, Ni- kita," he said, gayly, in a triumphant whisper, "J think we've secured him. This is our man, I don't doubt. If he isn't Ruric Brassoff, at a'ly rate, in spite of his English tweed suit, he talks Russian fluently. For he spoke i) ihe porter a long sentence, and the porter answered him at once. Now, I happen to know onr good friend Borodin, who's been doornik over there by my orders for a fortnight, doesn't speak a single word of either French or German." Nikita smiled aeciuioscence. "Yes, we've got him!" he said. "We've got him!" ,■•!*. :»• .J *.' ■ t. ,i^^^ _-.; ** 426 UNDER SKAT-BD ORDERS. m It' .'■■ CHAPTER XLVII. A SINGULAR INCIDENT. Michael Fomenko's room was a bare little salon on the third floor of an overgrown Moscow tenement- house, let out in flats and apartments after the Parisian fashion. The furniture was scanty and botirgeuis in character— a round table in the middle, a spare sofa, a few chairs with the inevitable Samovur, made up its chief con- tents. On one side stood a desk with locked drawers and little pigeon-holes. On the other a door led into a cupboard in the wall, or, rather, in the partition which separated the room from the adjoining salon. This adjoining salon, as it happened, had been occupied for some days by the gentlemanly per- son who knew Nikita. As Mr. Hayward entered and cast a glance round the apartment, he saw at -once that Fo- menko was greatly perturbed at his arrival. His now acquaintance— for they had known one an- other hitherto on paper only — was an earnest- looking young man of twenty-five or thereabouts, substituted by Mr. Hayward as one of Owen's "trustees," after the death of Dimitri Ogareff, in 1887. Ho was tall and fair, a journalist by >it.;r.>v X :->^*4'''i-"' RDERS. .VII. CI D ENT. (I was a bare little )vergrown Mobcow its and apartments The furniture was cter — a round table a few chairs with le up its chief con- desk with locked s. On the other a le wall, or, rather, ted the room from lappened, had been e gentlemanly per- and cast a glance at -once that Fo- t his arrival. His ad known one an- — was an eamest- ive or thereabouts, as one of Owen's Dimitri Ogareff, lir, a journalist by ^■.'iS*fe=iW-s^:*l».'^'*g«^-' tTNDBR SEALED ORDERS. 427 trade, but a poet by temperament, very hand- some and ardent, with intense blue eyes and deli- cate quivering nostrils, like a wild horse of the Ukraine. There was a look of eagerness on his face, too, a divine imrest, which no terror could eclipse, no pallor blot out from it. But he was doubly alarmed just then, all the same, at Mr. Hayward's presence. In the first place, he was afraid lest spies should discover him closeted with Ruric Brassoil. In the second place, he wasn't sure whether this was really Ruric Brass- otf himself at all, or only some ingenious police pretender. Stefanovic's letters had given him grave cause to doubt. He faltered and hesitated, unwilling, on the one hand, to criminate himself to a })08sible spy, or, on the other hand, to be guilty '(f discourtesy or suspicion toward the real Ruric BrassoflE. The Chief, however, well experienced in read- ing every sentiment of the revolutionary heart, divined his difficulty at once, and met it with perfect candor. "You are afraid, Fomenko," he said, kindly, taking the young man's arm with that paternal air that seemed so natural to him after twenty years' intercourse vt'ith Owen '''azalet. "You suspect me of being a spy. My cl< ar friend, I don't wonder. It's not surprising y^jn should think me so. We live in such a terror. But I'm Ruric Brassoff, all the same. You have seen my own hand for it. Ask me what other proof on earth you will. I will satiirf/ yout curiosity." .1 .._Jt.. _5 UNDER SKALED ORDERS. The young man, taking in the situation slowly, hung back once more, and rcjcarded him with anxiety. What was this he had done? Already he had admitted more than enough to hang him- self. 475? Ruric Brassoff? The police were so ubiquitous ! He had let the man in on the strength of such assurances. Suppose he were reaJly a spy? He gazed at Mr. Hay ward with infinite fear and distrust hovering in those ear- nest blue eyes. , "There must be some mistake somewhere," he said, faltering. "I know nobody of the name of Ruric BrassoflF. And 475 — what do you mean by that? This is No. 24 ; you must have mis- taken your directions." A soft and quiet smile, half contempt, lialf pity, played almost unobserved round Mr. Hay- ward's aristocratic lips. This young man was a very poor couspiratcr, indeed, when it came to dealing with spies — but he was good and honest. "My dear fellow," the Chief said, frankly, seating himself in a chair and drawing it up to the table, "if I were really a detective, all this beating about the bush would avail you nothing. You're shutting the stable door, as the English proverb says, after the steed is stolen. You've said and done quite enough to condemn j'ou al- ready. No man who wasn't one of us would for a moment have admitted me on that name and number — above all, just now, in the present state of Moscow. Don't try to hedge in that futile way. If I'm a spy, and I want to catch you, I've evidence enough and to spare already. If 'r ER8. - . ituation slowly, irded him with lone? Already ;h to hang him- 'he police were man in on the appose he were Hayward with ng in those ear- jomowhere," he ' of tho name of t do you mean nust have mis- contempt, half ound Mr. Hay- oung man was vhen it came to ood and honest, said, frankly, rawing it up to bectivo, all this dl you nothing, as the English itolen. You've ondemn you al- of ua would for that name and he present state } iu that futile t to catch you, ,re already. If UNDER SEALED ORDERS. • 429 I'm Ruric Brassoflf— as I am — don't let lis waste any more of my precious time upon such danger- ous nonsense. Let's get to business at once. I've come to reliev you of a great responsibil- ity." "Hush, hush!" Fui.i nko cried, sitting down, and leaning across toward him eagerly. "You must be very careful. Mind what you say or 'o. We're surrounded just now by enemies on every side. I can see them 9very where. There's a lodger downstairs, for example — a woman with great staring eyes, a milliner or something — she's a spy, I'm certain. Ai-^ there's a man next door, a sort of official or underling, who meets me on the stairs a great deal oftener than I think at all natural ; I believe he's watching mo. I'd have moved from these apartments long ago, in fact, and cleaned them of documents, only I was afraid of exciting still greater suspicion if I weat away elsewhere. And, besides — I was waiting for — I was expecting visitors." "Myself, in fact," Mr. Hay ward suggested. "Well, at any rate, Ruric Bi issoff." -., Mr. Hayward leaned quietly vard. "Now, Fomenko, my dear frit-nd," he said, in a very grave voice, "you've admitted the fact openly, yourself, and if I were a spy I should by this time have everything I could wish, against you. But I'm noi a spy. As I told you .ust now, I'm Ruric Brassoff. Why do you kasi- tate to believe itP That handwriting I've just showed you is the hand you have always so gladly obeyed. I know your dtvotion. No -^;l s ^ UNDER SEALED ORDERS. patriot more eager. If I haJ sent you an order through the regular channels, signed with that self-same name— I remember your fidelity well —you know yourself you would implicitly have obeyed it." The young man hesitated. -^ "Yes, certainly," he said at last— "if it came, as you say, through the regular channels." "But you doubt me, all the same.*" And he looked at him reproachfully. Fomeuko smiled a faint smile. His moral courage was great, his physical courage feeble. •'Spies are so clever," he murmured low — "and forgery's so easy." "But what makes you doubt F" Mr. HayAvard asked, laying his hand on the young man's arm. "Well, I saw a portrait of Ruric Brassofif onre," Fomenko answered, blushing, "and, to tell you the truth, dear friend, even allowing for age and disguise and all that, you don't in the feast resemble him.'' A wonderful light dawned in Mr. Hay ward's eyes. With an outburst of emotion, he seized the young man by the wrist and pulled him toward him, unresisting. The maneuver was well de- vised. That magnetic touch seemed to thrill through Fomonko's frame, as it had often thrilled "through Owen Cazalet's. * Then, in a low, quick voice Mr. Hayward began to pour Into his brother-conspirator's ear the same as- tounding tal'i of a hard-won victory over Nature and his own body which he had poured into Olga Mireflf's m the sanctum at Bond Street. 5^-*^r-^ '-'■ffi-^,'!^^-''.'^'^''' ¥1 ER8. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 481 nt you an order igoed with that >ur fidelity well implicitly have st— "if it came, 3hannels." ime!"' And he le. His moral courage feeble. Lxred low — "and ' Mr. HayAvard ung man's arm. Ruric Brassofif 3hing, "and, to en allowing for you. don't in the Mr. Hay ward's on, he seized the led him toward >r was well de- )Bmed to thrill it had often 8. • Then, in a began to pour r the same as- )ry over Nature id poured into it Bond Street. Fomenko listened all responsive, with a sym- pathetic tremor that rang resonant through his inmost marrow. Theeffect was marvelous. As Mr. Hayward went on, the young man flushed rosy red, all doubt and fear loft him. When the Chief had finished his tale, Fomenko rose all tremulous, and in a tumult of feeling wrung his hand twice or thrice. Then, yielding to an Oriental impulse, he fell on the elder's bosom, and sobbed aloud for a minute with almost in- audible murmurs. He spoke very low and cau- tiously, but he spoke out his full heart. "Ruric Bnvssoff, Ruric Brassofif!" he cried, in a tone of profovmd shame, "forgive me, for- give me. If for one second I seemed to doubt you, it was not you, but them, that I feared and doubted. I doubt no longer now. I fear no longer. I know you at once by your great words for Russia's truest son. I thank God I have lived to hear that noble voice. Command, and I will obey. I am yours, for Russia!" A sympathetic moisture stood dim in Mr. Hay- ward's eyes. The revolutionist within him was now thoroughly awakened once more. Ashamed as he felt of himself, and of the double part he was perforce playing, he was yet proud of dis- ciples like Michael Fomenko. And, after all, he said to his own heart, it rcas for Russia, for Russia. For was it not better in the long run for Russia that she should have Owen Cazalet's sympathy and aid from afar oflp in England than that he should be cut off in all his youth and strength and beauty, who might do and dare so 74 tm 4J2 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. much in quieter Jind more peaceful ways to serve and befriend her? Ho sat down at the table, took a pen in his hand and wrote a few wortls t)n a scrap of paper, which ho handed to Fomenko. "There," he said, "if you Avant more proof, is the last order I sent you, from the inn at Smolensk." But Fomenko, hardly looking at it, made an- swer in a tone of the most fervid enthusiasm : "I need no proof at all. I only ask your par- don. Now I have once heartl Ruric BrassoflF's own grand words, Ruric Brassoff's own authen- tic voice, I require nothing further. Your Bj)eech is enough. It is the tongue of a seer, a priest, a prophet." The Chief took his hand once more. He wrung it hard. He held it, trembling. Heart went out to heart. They two thrilled in har- mony. For a moment neither broke that sacred silence. Then Ruric Brassoflf spoke again. "*'And you can trust me?" he asked, gently. "Implicitly." Again the great Nihilist pressed his follower's hand hard. Oh, how glad he was he had to deal with a poet's soul like this, instead of with a mere suspicious and pi-agmatical fool like Vale- rian Stefanovic! "And you don't mind what that narrow brain has written you from ParisV" he asked again. The young man smiled an almost contemptu- ous smile. "Stefanovicl" he cried. "Stefanovic! And •'i«^*.-Si^i*!f.>iSiiv: bSW*ii4*^!Sg,i,&.*XR.*ijSJte( <» R8. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 433 1 ways to serve k a pen in his scrap of paper, it more proof, om the inn at it it, made an- ^nthusiasm : T ask your par- uric BrassoflF's 8 own authen- iirther. Your igue of a seer, ce more. He ibling. Heart irilled in har- jke that sacred ke again, iked, gently. I his follower's he had to deal )ead of with a fool like Vale- t narrow brain fisked again. )st contemptu- 'anovic ! And when yoxi are in question! Oh, the bathos of it, the absurdity! Mind what that poor thing says — that poor cramped small nature! Beside Ruric Brassoff's words !" He took his Chief's palm like a woman's between his own two. "I know what enthusiasm means," he went on, leaning over it. "For your sake — in your com- pnny — I could die, Ruric Brassoff." The Chief stepped back just one pace, and fixed his eyes hard on the young man's. "Then give me back the sealed envelope!" he said, in a tone of command like a military officer. Without a moment's hesitation Fomenko hast- ened over to the cabinet at the side, with the locked drawers and pigeon-holes, took a key from his pocket and drew out a small bundle of care- fully tied documents. From it, after a short search, he selected an envelope with a large red seal. "Take your own, Ruric Brassoff," he said, in a very firm voice, handing the paper across to him, "You know better than I what is best for Russia. I hold it in trust from you. Though I die for it, take it." "And die for it you will," a loud voice inter- rupted. Some one seized hand and arm, and intercepted the envelope. In an agony of surprise, Michael Fomenko stared round. Ruric Brassoff, by his side, leaped back astonished. For a moment the young journalist was dazed. It was the voice of the gentlemanly man who had lodgings on the same floor; and beside him stood the good-hiunored 4: 434 UNDER flEALRD ORDERS. commercial j)er8on who travel(»cl in tea, and whom Ruric BraHHoff had seen at Smolensk. In the backgroimd, half-a-dozen of the hoI- diers, in plain clothes, with blue spectacles or light canes, cume tumbling through the wall. But they were armed with short swords now, and held in their hands regulation revolvers. ■ ( .V\ :Vrn -"■« jj-«»-*.<3 ■-'*«->»^W«I»»»!i8riSBfW«Ss«Pi«WWW»-»M ER8. )d in tea, and at Smolensk, izen of the 8ol- iie Bpectacles or rough the wall. irt swords now, m revolvers. ' \ ^4\ UNDBK SEALED ORDERS. 486 :■■ -n;.. i4- .' \ CHAPTER XLVIII. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. It was a miuute or two before Mr. Hay ward — or Ruric Brassoff, as you will — stunned and surprised by this sudden invasion, had a clear enough head to take in what had happened. Then, as he gazed about him slowly with one soldier on each side, and felt his arms being helplessly pinioned behind him, he began to realize all was up, and to see how the intruders had entered so noiselessly. ,, The cupboard door on the opposite side from the cabinet now stood wide open. But the cup- board itself, as he could see to his surprise, had no back or partition ; it opened direct into the adjoining room, and through the temporary door- way thus formed he could catch vistas of still more soldiers in civilian costume, waiting the word of command, and all armed with revolvers. In a moment, he recognized how they had man- aged this capture. The soldiers must have sawed through the wooden back of two adjacent cup- boards beforehand, and at the exact right mo- ment noiselessly removed the whole intervening woodwork, shelves and contents and all, s» as to give access direct to Fomeuko's apartment. More, too! the two principals must have listened 4 I >;! 4 30 rNl»ER SKAI.KI) ORnKRS. through the koyliohi of tlio putermoHt door to thoir ontirocoiiversfition. One ihish of intuition sulRcoti to show him thHt Alnxis Selistoff's niyr- miilunH now knew exiutly who l,i> ^va^^ imd why ho canio tlioro, f ^ow hm they twa had H|)okou, ho conlchi't pont'oul fr^m hitnsolf the fm^t that they jniist hiive heard him acknowledge he was Rnric BrasHoiV. The good-humored (!onunercial traveler stepped forward with an air of authority as soon as the chief prisoner was safely pinioned, and laid his iiand hard on his captive's shoulder. "JVinee Riu'ic Br w)ff," he said, in a formal voice, "I arroHt yoi., excellency on a charge of conspiracy agaii, his Most Sacred and Most Orthodox Maj- esty, the Czir of all the RuHaias." "Traitor!" Ruric Brassoflf answered, turning upon him with a face of the utmost < ontempt and loathing. "Vile spy and reptile, I'm ashamed of having spoken to you." The commercial gentleman smiled blandly and good-humoredly. "Your own fault," he said, with a quiet air of official triumph. "You let j'ouraelf in for it. You should choose your ac- quaintances better. My name is Nikita, chief clerk and secretary to General -VJexis Selistoff." He turned to his second prisoner. "Michael Fomenko, author and journalist," he said, in the same formal voice, "I arrest you as aaiiccom- plic^e of Prince Ruric Brassoff in his conspiracy against his Most Sacred and Most Orthodox Majesty." Fomenko, white as a sheet, stood still and ■ x-s,.K*ty.K(^'f.:'Afii KR8. ' termoHt door to lliish of intuition 1 SelifltotT'H niyr- lio Wii!- mul why i> hi 1(1 H|)okun, ho 10 fact that thty y;e he was Ruric traveler stepped y as soon a-i the od, and laid his aider. "JVince formal voif'«, "I je of eonspiracy t Orthodox Maj- swered, turning itmost contempt d reptile, I'm ou." ilod hlandly and fault," he said, nph. "You let choose j-our ac- is Nikita, chief Jexis Selistoff." meiT. "Michael " ho said, in the m as Mil iiecom- 1 his conspiracy Most Orthodox stood still and H t ■ UNPEK HKAI-KH ORDKRS. 487 answered nothing'. Hi'^ li»"or wan all ior the (irrost and hotrayal of Ruric Mrassoff. The soldiers gripped their arm^. Two stood in front of each, two behind, two l)osid.> thorn. Nikita turned triumphant t(» tlio gentlemanly lodger next door. "I think, xMajor and Count," he Huid smiling, "we may really congratulate ourrtolvoH upon having offecrted this imiKJrtant and difficult arrest without tr;nible or hlood- sIumI." The count bowed and mKlded. Ho was all polite acciuiesconce. "And especially on hav- ing secured this incriminating document," he said, turning it over— "unopened." Ruric Rrassoff glanced round in a ferment of horn.r, for Owen's sake. The count held the envelope in his hand, with every appearance of care, and gazed at the seal abstractedly. What was he going to do with it? That was the (laos- tion. Oh, if only they had arrived one moment later, the Chief thought with a thrill of remorse, he could have dung it in the fire that burned brightly in the grate! But they timtHl their ar- rival well. Too well, t,)o cleverly. They must have been listening and waiting for the critical moment to arrive, with ear at the crack of the door, and eye at the keyhole. On the turning- point they entered. The envelope was in their hands. All, all was lost! Alexis Selistoff would now learn Owen ( 'azalet's secret. "Yes, unopened," Nikita echoed, closing his lips firm like a rat-trap. "That's important, very. His excellency's orders are that we're Sm. :( 488 UNDRR SKALRD ORDERh. pi mi m to koop it intHct till ho nrrivoH in MoHcov\r. Ho (lofiir(nt JiirnHelf. is oxcolloncy'H >iint, you must p with !v Hill lite, in folds of \m it vvitli (lofor- couiit stopi)ead thing for n*-':*-*!"^*-':- FNOKU SKAKKD OUnKHS. Tlio Hleighs drew up at last before the profect- un> of urban police. TIk* prlHonors wtTo tum- bled out and hurried into a room where a com- tuiHsary sat awaiting thorn, lu a Hxed official voice, Nikita gave their names and the char;.;eM Mu;ainst them, with no more emotion in his tones than if he were accusing two well-known offcnd- («rH of j)ettj' liircfny. "Prince Ruric HraHsoff, formerly Aulic Councilor and Chamberlain to her Imperial Majesty the Empress; charged with participating in a murderous pint against the life of the Most Sacred and Most Orthodox C/ar; and Michael Fomenko, author and journalist, charged with being an accomplice to said Rurio Brassoff." The commissary noted down the wortling of the charges with official exactness. Even in RuHsia, red tape keeps up some show of legality. "Remitted to the Central Prison till to-morrow morning," the commissary said dryly. Then in a different voice, turning to Nikita, he added, "You expect General Selistoff by the night train, doubtless?" "Yes, he arrives to-morrow morning," Nikita answered with a pleased nod. "Ho will exam- ine the prisoners in person. Their infonnation may be important. Madame Mireff is here al- ready. She will be confronted with the con- spirators when the General arrives. We expect she can give evidence of some value against them." - "For the rest," the count said, nonchalantly twirling his pointed mustache, "what we over- :',jjp-^jJi^i^ '—^ 440 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. m heard ourselves in Fomenko's room is quite enough to condemn them. This gentleman ad- mitted he was Prince Brassoff. And M. Nikita has secured the important document which the General desired should be brought to him unopened." The commissary nodded. "To the Central Prison," he said once more, after a few more formalities had been gone through in a p)erfunc- tory fashion. The soldiers marched them out again, and put them back in the sleighs, and they drove away, still more rapidly, toward their place of detention. That night Ruric BrassoflF passed in a solitary cell, fitted up with some petty concessions to his princely rank, but otherwise bare and cold and wretched acd uncomfortable. And all night long he thought of Owen Cazalet and loneDrac- opoli, and of what could have brc .ght Olga Mireff at this juncture to Moscow. If only he could have seen her for one minute alone! If only he could have said to her, "Ni- kita has an envelope. Kill him! Secure it! Destroy it!" But there he lay helpless, cooped up in that narrow prison cell ; and when he saw Oiga to-movTow morning, perhaps it would be too late; perhaps he would be unable to commu- nicate with her at all; perhaps he might find her a traitor to Russia. His own life ho gave up— he owed it to Rus- sia. And for Russia, he despaired But one thing still troubled him. He wished he could only have saved Owen from the sword of Dum- ,iw^r!^KRS. K. ION. alocked the door said in a shrill ngled with con- ler's high rank, ral Alexis Selis- nediately at the , Ruric Brassoff conflicting feel- breakfast. He e and ate it me- t to the prison I word, put his E accepted thai A sleigh was in ruing. Fomen- prisoner's rest »f the true Rus- len during the , and the horses 'I UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 443 danced merrily over it with the light weight be- hind them. At the door of the branch office of the Third Section they halted. "Descend, prince, " Nikita said shortly. And Ruric Brassoff descended. Two soldiers took his arms on either side and marched him up the stairs, unresisting and ac- quiescent. Ruric Brassoff 'marched on, as in a horrible dream. At the door of an office on the first floor they knocked twice. •'Co'!ne in," said a sharp military voice from within. Across the gulf of twenty years. Rurio Brassoff recognized it as clearly as if he had heard it yesterday. It was Alexis Selistoff's. The soldiers turned the handle and marched in without a word. It was a comfortably furnished office, with a Turkey carpet on the floor and a bright fire in the grate. Alexis Selistoff, calm and stern, stood up with his back to the chim- ney-piece. The gray mustache twitched slightly with nervousness as he looked his prisoner in the face— the fox he had hunted so long and tracked to earth at last— but no other sign of emotion was visible anywhere on those austere features. He looked the very picture of an official martinet, as he fitood there, staring hard at Ruric Brassoff. But he bowed a polite bow, none the less, as he muttered, calmly: "Good -morning, prince," with soldier -like j>oliteness. And Ruric Brassoff ansvrered in the self-same tone: "Good-morning, excellency." «r Mnc rm UNDER SEALED ORDERS. A lady was seated in a chair at tbe further end of the room. As Ruric Brassofif ent^ied, she rose, and gazed him full ia the face. It was Olga Mireff. Once, and once only, her bosom heaved tumultuouslj\ Neither said a word, but their eyes met; that was enough. In a moment Ruric Brassoff knew his follower was true as steel. Her look was a look of the purest wo- manly devotion. But it smote him to the heart. For the eyes meant supreme faith. It repented him that he had mistrusted her — that great- hearted, single-minded, noble patriot, Olga! Alexis Selistoff was the first to break the long dramatic pause. He scanned iiis man close. "You've disguised yourself wonderfully, " he said at last. "They told me you were altered. But still I should have known you. I should have known you anywhere. There's Brassoff in those eyes even now, and in the firm set of that head. All the rest has changed, prince. All the rest has turned traitor." "To the tyrant, not to Russia," Ruric Brassoff answered, undaunted. Alexis Selistoff sniffed the air. "Give me that envelope, Nikita," he said, turning pound ; and Nikita gave it.him. The general, moving forward a step, laid it down on the desk that occupied the chief place in the room. / "Undo those irons!" he went on, coldly, with military brevity. And the soldier undid them. "Leave us!" the general murmured, with an authoritative wave of the hand, as Ruric Brass- -i Ra. at the further )ff entoied, she face. It was ily, her bosom id a word, but In a moment r was true as the purest wo- n to the heart. . It repented — that great- triot, Olga ! break the long is man close. aderfuUy," he I were altered, ou. I should e's BrassoflP in irm set of that prince. All Ruric Brassoflf ita," he said, .him. i step, laid it chief place in I, coldly, with r undid them. ured, with an Raric Brass- UNDER SKALED ORDERS. 445 off shook himself free with a natural gesture of satisfaction at the removal of the handcuffs. But Nikita, standing aghast, ventured one moment to remonstrate. "His hands are free, excellency," he said, deprecatingly. "Would It not be well for one other man at least to remain in the room to guard him?" Alexis Selistoff turned round with an angry shrog of impatience. "Go when you're told, fellow!" he said, haughtily, a fierce light in his eyes. "Am I commander here or you^ Soldiers are mounting guard, I suppose, at the door, as usual. And a Selistoff is match enough at any time for any man." At sight of the frown Nikita and the trooper made haste to save themselves. As the door closed Alexis Selistoff fell back into the arm- chair by the desk. Olga Mireff sank into another chair a little on one side, toying nervously with a flower or something else in her bosom. Ruric Brassoff stood up, with his hands now free, fac- ing his interrogator full front with a look of fixed pride and defiance, and separated from him by the breadth of the desk only. General Selistoff stared at the Nihilist as one stares at some strange wild beast. "I have a revolver in my pocket," he said, slowly. "It's loaded and cocked. Stand there where you are, prince. If you come a step nearer, I draw and fire upon you." Madame Mireff looked mutely at her friend, •h* p 446 UNDER 8EALBD ORDERS. and her eyes seemed to say: *' Wait your chance. Caution; caution!" The general, getting to business, glanced care- lessly first at a bundle of documents found in Fomenko's rooms. They were of precisely the same character as those already seized at Os- sinsky's, in Kieflf. " I thought so, " he said, quietly, with half a glance at the little gong that stood by his side, one touch on which would have summoned his armed guards. "This envelope, which answers in every respect to the one we missed at Kieff, contains the assumed name and present address of my misguided l>rother's son, young Sergius Selistoff. "We now know what became of the one in Ossinsky's possession. You revolution- ists, unhappily, will stick at nothing. When our men went to arrest him, Ossinsky seized the criminating document, chewed it up and swal- lowed it." , ;•»;:'>«,- Ruric Brassoff smiled. "Ossinsky was a brave man," he said, calmly, fronting his captor without a single trace of fear. "In my failure, it cousoles me at least to know such brave men and women as these have been closely associated with me." Alexis Selistoff held the envelope gingerly in his bronzed hands. "I should have hunted this j'oung traitor down till T found him and punished him," hj said, very resolutely, "i' I had been compelled to do It shames me ro think that one of the SelLs- blood and lineage shouM be mixed up ii; it. mmi wm ERS. lit your chance. IS, glanced care- tnents found in of precisely the .' seized at Os- ily, with half a by his side, ono loned his armed 'h answers in issed at Kieff, present address young Sergius became of the '"ou revolution- 3tb^'ng. "When nsky seized the t up and swal- le said, calmly, e trace of fear. ; least to know hese have been )pe gingerly iu g traitor down him," hj said, ompelled to do le of the Selis- mixed up in y UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 447 Buch deviltry. But I know it's useless now. I see and learn from the letters sent by Stefanovic / at Paris to Ossinsky at KieflP that Sergius Selis- toff the younger, unlike his father, has refused to do the traitor's dirty work. For that, you have repudiated him. Then you shall have your reward. I take him to the bosom of the family again. This envelope contains directions how and where 1 may find him. I iinll find him, and make him my heir, and bring him here to Russia to help me with his knowledge of your vile as- sociates. He shall assist me in hunting them down. Your dupe shall turn against you. Ruric Bnissoff, I toll you, I will train him to be my bloodhound." Ruric BrasHoff looked him back in t^e face with unconquerable pride. "You are wrong, Alexis Selistoff," he said, in a very soft voico "Your nephew Sergius would ^^^ject with shame and horror your prof- fered money and your hateful work. He has refused to help us, it is true; but he loves Russia well, for all that, and he loathes her tyrants. If you try to rooall him, you will get scorn for scorn. And if you publish his name, a hundred of our comrades will be up in arms at the word ; they will take his life at once for his treason to our compact." Alexis Selistoff smiled, and broke the envelope open. He held it before him at a military dis- tance from his face and read out its contents slowly: "Ow^n Cazalet, The R«d Cottage, Moor Hill, Surrey, England." Then he murmured to Mi 448 UNDEK SEALED OKDER8. r> himself ouce or twice : "Oweu Cazalet! Ovron Cazalet!" After that, beroso from his desk and moved calmly across the rootn, with his soldier- like tread, to the hugo bureau opposite, filled with drawers and pigeon-holes. Into one drawer he thiust the letter, and relo''kfd it secfuroly, hold- ing the key in his hand — a little 1u/ihh key very daintily finished. Next, ho walked back again, undismayed, to the seat by the desk. Ho Hat down in ii, '.'oldiy, and fixed his steely eye once more on his expected victim. ' ' But even while he crossed the rcom Madame Mireff, on her part, had not been idle. Her chance had come: with woman's instinct she seized it. Noiseless, but quick as lightning, with a strange gleam in her eye, she rose up as the general rose, and took a step or two, unper- ceived, across the floor toward Ruric Brassoff. She drew her hand from her boson and held it out in front of her. Something bright passed hastily with a meaning glance between them. Ruric Brassoff hid the toy for a minute in the side pocket of his coat. Then, noiseless again, and quick as lightning once more, while Alexis Selistoff was still unlocking and relocking the drawer, Olga Mireff slipped back, unporcoived, to her seat. She sat down like a mouse. The whole little maneuver, cM unseen and unnoted, occupied butasecor'a or two. For steal thiness and silence it was cat-like in its dexterity. Ruric Brassoff felt proud of hia disciple's cleverness. On that soft Turkey carpet her light footfall went unheeded. When Alexis Selistoflf turned again >BR8. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 449 Cazalet I Ovron rom his desk aad with his soldier- posite, filled with k> one drawer he t setiuroly, hold- hvuHH kfiy vory ked back again, 3 desk. He sat steely eyo once e rcom Madame been idle. Her ti's instinct she k as lightning, 3, she rose up as p or two, unper- Ruric Brassoff. son and held it J bright passed between them. 1 minute in the noiseless again, e, while Alexis I relocking the k, unperceived, a mouse. The I and unnoted, rorstealthiness xterity. Ruric )le's cleverness, ht footfall went I turned again madame was sitting there, as motiordess and as deeply iuteredted as before, still toying with some imaginary object in her heaving bosom. Alexis Selistoff never suspected for a moment she had moved. But the pretty little revolver of the delicate workmanship lay snugly ensconced now in Ruric Brassoff's pocket. , CHAfflffi U SBNTBNCa iflf mkfU, ' ' Alexis Selistoff reseated himself andjlooked up at his prisoner once more. "Prince Ruric Brassoff," he said slowly, in a very official voice, " late Aulic Councilor and formerly Chamberlain to her Imperial Majesty tiie Em- press, it will not be convenient under all the circumstances, regard being had to the unhappy misapprehensions of public feeling in Europe, that you should undergo a regular open trial. We propose, therefore, to deal with you instead by administrative order. The Czar's preroga- tive as fountain of justice will not in this case be delegated to judges. It will be exerted di- rectly. When a man of your rank offends against the law, his punishment should be ex- emplary. You belong to the highest Russian ftristocracy, the ancestral guardians of the an- 460 UNDER HBALKi> ORDERS. cient monarchical principles of our country. Your very name marks you out at once an ono of those who descend in hereditary line from the time-honored royal house of Ruric. You were educated among your peers in the College of the Pages; you were honored by emplojrment in the service of the court; you were decorated with the orders of the imperial household. Every mark of distinguished favor was show- ered upon your head by our august sovereign. Yet out of pure perversity you chose to become the leader of a vile conspiracy ; you misled the people whom it was your hereditary privilege and duty to guide and direct aright. For such crimes I could wish I might have offered you a fitting requital; might have sent you to the mines for life, where you would expiate your wrong -doing by a long, a laborious, and a squalid punishment. But you are too danger- ous a person for us to risk the bare chance of your untimely escape. Stark dead is safest. I hold in my hand here a special rescript of his Mont Sacred and Most Orthodox Majesty, con- demning you to private military execution in a closed fortress." Ruric BrassoflE bowed his head slightly. His conscience was satisfied. "That arbitrary sen- tence," he answered in a voice unbroken by emo- tion, "absolves me at once from all moral obliga- tions as regards the Czar himself or his appointed ministers. It is an autocratic act — the mere des- potic will of one man as against another. It is not the finding of a free court of justice, b^ore ■'^5"'Y»"<-VT--'' ■ IS. our country, bt once as one [»ry line from Ruric. You in the Collego y employment 'ere decorated il houBohold. or was show- lat sovereign. >8e to become ()u misled the lary privilege it. For such 3 offered you it you to the expiate your rious, and a > too danger- are chance of is safest. I »script of his Majesty, con- execution in lightly. His arbitrary sen- oken by emo- moral obliga- bis appointed bhe mere des- aother. It is iistice, b^ore UNDRB SEALED ORDERS. ,m which I have been legally tried and condemned ; it is not thi> unnnimous voice ot the represoutu- tives of my country! It is a private act— inivn iigaiuHt mail, oi)en enemy against open enemy." Ho ralHod hiw voice solemnly. " Aiexis SolistofE, you have condemned me," he said. "Alexis Selistoff, in my turn, I condemn you," The words rang with a thrill through that high-roofed hall. Olga Mireflf leaned forward with glowing eyes that seemed to burn like a tiger's as she watched and waited. Alexis Selis- toflf smiled coldly. Uuric BrassofiP himself stood erect and inflexible, nurveying his opponent from some paces off with indomitable pride and uncon- (juered independence. "You may kill me," he continued, atter a pause, in a rapt tone like a martyr's. '"'The revolutionary Cause, you must remember, does not depend upon individuals. A nation is at its back; it is the outcome and iiocessary result of an organic movement. Cut down one head of us, and twenty will spring in its place. Revo- lutionists are created, not by us, but by you; by your despotic action ; by the general discontent it begets in the whole Russian people; by the natural, irresistible, and organic tendency of all Russia itself toward a new and more human social system. O c this younger Russia I am the embodiment and mouthpiece, as you of the elder. I speak in the name of the people, as you of the Czar. The majesty of the many is greater and more authoritative than the majesty of the one. If you pronounce sentence on me as the spokes- f mm }■ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I S- lljy ll|j|Z5 ^-IM IIIIIZ2 m 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 M 6" — ► i I Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14SB0 (716) 872-4503 /♦. S'' Wj c^- CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CiHM/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiq ues 462 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. m' man of the court, I pronounce sentence on you as th« spokesinan of the nation. . . . And that sentence is, Alexis Selistoff" — something flashed (luick in his right hand — "that you be shut dead here and now." He leveled the little revolver point-blank at his heart. Flash — bang — and si- lence. A report, a short blaze ; Alexis Selistoff fell back, with a tiny brass key still grasped in his fingers, on the chair ho sat in. To Olga Mireflf, looking on, what happened next, in a few seconds, was as a terrible dream for its vividness, its rapidity, its inexplicable suddenness. Before she had time to realize that Alexis SeHstoff was really dead — blood oozing and gurgliLu be shot dead < little revolver -bang — and si- A-lexis Selistoff still grasped in i^hat happened terrible dream a inexplicable to realize that —blood oozing 8 from a great ff, that great, Brassoff, had dying man's oice had crietl , take it ! Be- en't do it my- the drawer! — •out! Owen's •n it!" the room as 3r. Olga Mi- <^ith emotion, ed the letter, mwhile, stood le had hastily He was onlj by the shot, om the other UNDER SEALED OFDERB. 453 side. As the paper burned away, and crumbled to ashes, Ruric Brasboff rushed back in a tremor to the fireplace again, and let them burst in the door. "v)lga," he cried, wringing her hand, "You've been faithful to the end. One more thing before you die. Write to Owen Cazalet, 'All safe. Every trace destroyed.' Then you can do as you like. If you choose, you can follow me. ' ' As well as Olga could guess, the soldiers by this time had forced the door openand were rush- ing into the room. For a second, the sight ot Gen- eral Selistoff, sitting there in his chair with one hand pressed to the wound whence blood gurgled with hideous noises, struck them dumb with in- action Then, even as they gazed, Ruric Brass- off raised the revolver once more, and pointed it with a firm hand against his own white temples. Before the foremost soldier could rush forward and prevent him, he had pulled the trigger and let the chamber go off. There was a sob, a deep hush. He fell forward heavily. The bullet had done its work with instantaneous effect. Blood was spattered on the floor. Blood was spurting from his forehead. Some few drops fell on Olga Mireff's dress and handkerchief. She gazed at them reverently. They were the blood of a martyr. But Ruric Brassoff lay there, not yet quite dead, very pe-aceful in soul, through a great haze of unconsciousness. For Owen was saved, the paper was burned, Russia was avenged, and the tyranny had come one step nearer its final destruction. :Vf r W^'^-' 454 UNDER SEALSD ORDERS. m r#^ Olga Mireff flung herself down on the still breathing body. With a woman, to admire a man is rIso to love him. And Ruric Brassoff had seemed even greater to her in those last few minutes than ever before in his life. She seized the little revolver, before the soldiers' faces, i»nd slipped it unobtrusively into her dress pocket. As she lay there, sobbing and unnerved, by the martyr's side, her first im- pulse was to shoot herself on Ruric Brassoflf's dead body. But a solemn sense of duty pre- vented her from yielding as yet to that womanlj' impulse. To obey is better than burnt oflfer- ing ; and Ruric Brassoflf had said with his dying breath, "Write to Owen Cazalet." She must live on, now, were it only to fulfill that sacred bequest. What it all meant, she knew not; but do it she musi ; she would live to write to Owen Cazalet. She repeated Ruric Brassoff's words over to herself, time after time, to remember them. But, indeed, she had no need. Every feature of .that scene, every tone of that voice, was burned in as by a searing iron into the very fabric of her brain. "All safe; all safe; 3 very trace de- stroyed." It rang in her oars, like the tune of a chime of bells. She heard it echoing through her head. It was a part of her be- ing. The soldiers removed her, wondering, and sat her down in a chair. Then they lifted Ruric Brassoff's body with unreverent hands, and laid it on the table. Alexis Selistoff's they carried u^ ■> 'viV^' ^^^'^ V'W It^fi (S. UNDEn SEALED ORDi'JBS. 4S6 a on the still to admire a luric BrassoflF in those last his life. She the soldiers' ^oly into her sobbing and her first im- ric Brassoflf's of duty pre- shat womanly burnt offer- ith his dying " She must i that sacred new no6 ; but Tite to Owen ords over to • them. But, ature of .that burned in as abric of her y trace de- ie the tune it echoing of her be- out, to do it military honor. But Olga sat there still, and no man molested her. And no man, as yet, made any inquiries for the revolver. After a whil", as in a dream, Olga Blireff rose and walked staggering down the stairs. An oflRcer raised his hat and spoke to her as she went out. She told him, in brief, how it all had happened,omitting only the detail of her handing the revolver to Ruric Brassoff . The officer listened in silence. "Where is madame stopping?" he asked, drawing out a note-book and pencil. And Olga Mireff answered in a hard voice, as of one whose life is wholly cut from under her, •'At 24 Slav Bazar Street. I was watching there aud waiting — by General Selistoflf's orders — for Ruric BrassoflP." And she had missed him, after all, when he came ! She never was able to warn him ! 'ing, and sat lifted Ruric ids, and laid they carried 456 UNDER SEALED ORDERS. CHAPTER LI. AND AFTER? From the office, Madame Mireff stepped forth blindly into the streets of Moscow. The news of the murder had spread like wildfire. In that infiummable atmosphere, rumor Hashes electric. Round the Kremlin, all was confusion and strange military display. The sijuare buzzed •* % with Cossacks. But no man challenged her. The agent of the Czar, the unrecognized diplo- matic representative of the Russian court, the trusted friend and confidante of General Alexis Selistoff, she walked out unquestioned, erect and trembling, through the midst of that indescriba- : ble hubbub and turmoil. Superior officei-s mur- " ■ mured to one another as she passed, "Madame Mireff!" and raised their caps in homage. Sol- diers slunk on one side and let the great lady go by with a respectful salute. She was still free, thank Heaven ! She might execute her mission yet from dead Ruric Brassoff ! Dead Ruric Brassoff! Ruric Brassoff dead! She murmured it over to herself in a dreamy dazetl tone. It seemed impossible, incredible! though she carried in her own bosom the pistol with which her martyr had taken his great life, she could hardly believe it herself even now. JiSkr-'^,'* ,\:,. "/^■; RS. UNDER SEALED ORDERS. 4(7 stepped fortli The news of fire. In that ashes electric, onfusion and