He had another and, to him, a still higher and more cherished object—the freeing of the sacred places of Palestine from the hated presence of the Moslem. That, with him, was the pious dream of a devotee who carried religion almost to fanaticism. No Crusader was ever fired by a holier ardour. That shrines of such awe-inspiring sanctity as the Holy Sepulchre and Bethlehem should be under the domination of Islam; that disputes among the priests of the Christian creeds in the Holy Land should be subjected to the arbitration of some petty Turkish official, were to this chivalrous son of his Church—to this Christian gentleman—horrors too hideous for contemplation. To Lord Aberdeen, in these matters, he fully opened his heart, and though Lord Aberdeen was careful to avoid definitely committing himself to any “hypothetical engagement,” the Tsar believed firmly that he was receiving nothing but encouragement. So convinced was he on the subject that when Lord Aberdeen became Prime Minister he thought in his happiness that the tocsin of the Turk had sounded. But when the crucial time came, England failed him, and cast in her lot with Louis Napoléon, to whom an alliance with Great Britain gave a much-needed addition of prestige. The “Sick Man” was once more bolstered up, and Nicholas, deceived as he believed himself to be—at any rate foiled in his hopes and crushed in his darling ambition—prostrated by the failure of the army whose invincibility was with him a creed, saw nothing in front of him but what, to his proud heart, seemed ruin and despair. Broken in spirit, the great Tsar laid himself down to die. That was the tragedy of the little camp bed. * * * * * Here is a wrinkle for the Criminal Investigation Department. Towards the end of December, 1863 (Old Style) St. Petersburg was stirred by a crime which touched all Russians to the quick. Murder and sacrilege. On the opposite bank of the Neva stands the little wooden house of Peter the Great, together with a boat built by his hands. To this is attached a small church of great sanctity; indeed, even to me, a stranger belonging to another school of faith, this humble shrine, for some mysterious reason felt but not explained, even to myself, seemed more an object of reverence than many a gorgeous place of worship decked out in all the lavish trappings furnished by the orthodox, who never grudge the spending of their treasure for the adornment of their temples. To this sacred place the pious have been in the habit of bringing votive offerings, reliquaries and jewels of great price.