“No one. It was an accident. You know—you have reason for knowing—that there is in existence a weighty document containing the autograph signatures of those who have pledged themselves to——” She interrupted him with a gesture of impatience. “Why tell me what I know already?” “Our dear friend, Count Pahlen,” continued Benningsen, naming the Foreign Minister, next to the Czar the most powerful man in the Empire, “was the person to whom we all agreed to entrust our common document, a document so precious that he durst not keep it at his bureau, locked in an escritoire, lest it should be detected by some prying secretary. He therefore carried it about on his person.” “An unwise thing to do.” “So it has proved, for he has lost our great charter.” “Lost it!” said Pauline in dismay. “It was on his person at one o’clock; at two it was gone. Either he dropped it, or it was stolen from him. The question for us is—Into whose hands has it fallen? It may have been picked up by some mujik, who, too ignorant to read and therefore unable to appreciate its value, may use it to light his pipe. Some one, not over friendly to Paul’s rule, may have found it, in which case he may hand over the document to one of the signatories occurring therein, or, at the least, he may keep a silent tongue on the matter. But I sadly fear that the document has been found, if not by an enemy, by one at any rate who, seeing in the discovery the prospect of a reward, has hurried with it to Paul. At all events three hours after Pahlen’s discovery of his loss little Sasha was put under arrest.” “That proves nothing. Is he the only one? Why are not all the others arrested?” “Who knows what may be happening at this very moment? I have come to warn you. You will do well this night to set off with me for Finland, lest in the morning Little Paul should be found demanding your head.” “Fly! And leave Alexander to his fate! No, I’ll not do that. Having drawn him into a conspiracy, I’ll stand by him to the last, and, if need be, share his doom.” There was a brief interval of silence. “If Paul would but die!” murmured Benningsen. “Oh, if he would only die to-night, our necks would be safe! But then, men never will die when they are wanted to. Look at my rich uncle now, that——” “Hasn’t Count Pahlen determined upon any plan of action?”