“I have come, General Korolénko, to free myself from the hateful toils you cast about me three years ago, when you were Chief of the Third Section of Police in Petersburg,” she said, regarding him steadily. “I was a Nihilist, and you, taking advantage of my youth and inexperience, gave me a choice of alternatives. You ordered me to the mines, and then gave me a chance of regaining my liberty and of saving my brother’s honour by becoming one of your contemptible spies. I agreed. For three years I have been your puppet. I have acted my ignominious, dishonourable part in Petersburg society, and been the means of sending dozens of unoffending persons to their terrible doom—to rot in the dungeons under the Neva, or toil in the dark silver mines of the Trans-Baikal—while you, the ex-Chief of Secret Police, live here in luxury and pose before your Imperial Master as the great detector of conspiracies!” “And what of that?” he cried angrily. “Is my conduct to be criticised by a mere chit of a girl? Remember, you are an agent of the Third Section charged with the protection of the person of his Majesty, and as such you will remain. If not, recollect you are now in Siberia, and I have merely to sign this order here and you will go to hard labour at the mines for the remainder of your life, where my Cossacks will soon teach you obedience. So go, jade, and don’t let me hear or see any more of you,” and he stretched forth his hand to ring the bell. “Hear me out!” she cried hoarsely. “I intend to change my despicable mode of life. I tell you that you must sign this paper releasing me from our secret compact and give me complete immunity from arrest,” and she drew a paper from her breast. “Otherwise I shall take——” “Oh! You use threats—eh? Well, my dear, and what can you do, pray?” he asked with a sneer. “Once you held me in your power,” she continued angrily. “Now the tables are turned. Refuse, and I shall send to his Majesty proofs, together with the signed confession, of the miserable coward who in Petersburg one night struck Marie Smirnitskaya dead!” The General started, and his face blanched. “How—how do you know?” he gasped. “The confession is signed by you! Perhaps you forget that we, the Nihilists, tracked you down, compelled you to confess, and spared your life in consequence. Besides, have I not had another instance of your murderous villainy only last week at Artinsk, where one of your hired assassins brutally did our driver, Ivan, to death, because he knew the identity of the murderer of Marie Smirnitskaya!” “You—you lie!” he cried, livid with rage. “You—you would wreck my life, and bring me to the mines! But, _diable_, you shall not!” he hissed, drawing a revolver and advancing towards her. “You—you too shall die!” In a second I parted the curtains and sprang upon him. I was not a moment too soon, for he fired, and the bullet sped over Mariána’s head, smashing one of the great mirrors.