"You paid the debt in advance. You must think of yourself now----and of me----and----" And she leaned over to him, with the flush of a heavenly hope in her face, and whispered in his ear. There were stars in his eyes as he looked into hers and kissed her glowing face. "That settles it, dearest. We will go at once--as soon as we have buried our friends." Then Dmitri Polokof, and Hugo Svendt, and Alexei Etelsky, and a host of others came flocking in, to welcome Serge Petrovitch back and to bid them both Godspeed. Long after midnight the little house was still humming and swarming like a beehive, till the wonder was that the walls could hold so great an effervescence. There were messages to friends to be delivered, if ever the chance offered, and if not, then to be conveyed by letter from the land of freedom to the land that was not free. And so many were they that Paul had to take them down on the margin of a small Bible, in a species of shorthand which he had used as a student, and which he had no fear of any one being able to read, since at times he could hardly make it out himself. Actual letters he regretfully but firmly declined to carry. But he took enough notes to fill many pages and comfort many anxious hearts at home. When at last they had their house to themselves--for Anna Roskova and Marya Verskaïa flatly refused to intrude upon them, and billeted themselves for the night among their friends--Paul came on the papers Sokolof had handed to him. He had stuffed them into his pocket and thought no more about them. "These are yours, Hope," he said. "They are Serge's papers. Sokolof sent them to you." They looked through them with tender respect and with no thought of gain. But among them they found a letter from Serge setting forth the sums he had left in the hands of Gerrardius, the Geneva banker, and with Rothschilds in London, and it stated that instructions had also been left with both to pay over the amounts to Hope, in case of his death. It was a considerable amount, nearly 200,000 roubles. But Pavlof said decisively, "That is for the cause--in some way or other. We will not touch it except for our immediate necessities, and that we will replace as soon as possible." "Yes," said Hope, in a glow of happiness at the thought. "We will send some of it here. They are so miserably poor, most of them." "I will arrange it with Captain Sokolof. He is a man of his word. I am beginning to like him." They buried Palma, and Rimof, and Blok, in the little cemetery of the Free Command on the hillside, and laid them close against the Eastern boundary, as near to freedom as was possible. The white wooden post which marks their resting place bears only the initials P.R.B. But to Paul and Hope Pavlof, who alone know all that lies beneath that simple monument, the memory of those three brave men is a fragrant and ever cherished possession.