“Nadia, my dear child!” were the words that awakened her in the morning. “Forgive me. I was warned yesterday afternoon that a raid was intended, but I thought it would be the navvies’ class which they would attack, and I never dreamt of their arresting you. My child, I have been driving about all night from police-station to police-station, and from Minister to Minister, first to find you and then to release you. I went first of all to Vladimir Alexandrovitch, and he accompanied me everywhere. He said that it would never do to allow you to be sent to Hyperborea, for we should have King Carlino invading Scythia with an Anglo-Thracian army to release you. Of course that was only his jest; but we left no stone unturned to set you free. I threatened to force my way into the Emperor’s presence, and lay the matter before him; I threatened to put it into the hands of the British Embassy--although I really don’t know whether you are a British subject or not--Vladimir Alexandrovitch says that you certainly are not; I threatened to stir up English public opinion through the Evangelical Alliance. At last I succeeded in obtaining an order for your release, and for myself--this.” Nadia took the paper she held out. It was an official permission for Pauline Vassilievna Soudarova to travel outside the Scythian dominions, until the Emperor should revoke the leave thus granted. “Oh, Marraine!” cried Nadia, sadly, “and this is all through me. Exile!” “Oh no, dear child. It is merely permissive, you see. Now, what shall we do? Shall we accept the permission, and place Dr Schmidt and Marie Karlovna in charge of all our work, leaving the house as it is, and directing operations by letter? Or shall we disregard it, and wait until we are arrested, and conducted to the frontier by the police, while the institutions are all closed, and our poor people sent to Caucasia? I want your opinion.” “I don’t like beating a retreat, Marraine,” said Nadia, frankly, “but if we can ensure the continuance of the work better by leaving at once, perhaps we ought to go.” “That was just what I thought,” said the Princess. “Now, my child, I have a scheme. I wish to follow in the footsteps of St Paul.” “A pilgrimage, Marraine?” asked Nadia. “Not quite. A friend of mine has a yacht, which is lying at Cadiz, and which he is anxious to let for the winter, and I am thinking of hiring it. I have visited the Holy Land already, but I should like to see Malta and Asia Minor and the Ægean. It would be most interesting; and, from the Bosphorus, one might even visit the Black Sea, and perhaps meet some--some old friends. I have a strong conviction that we are not driven out of Scythia in this way for nothing--without some good purpose.”