“Well,” said Sandoff, “what do you think of the situation?” “Unfavorable!” replied Shamarin. “I don’t agree with you,” exclaimed Vera quickly. “It is vexatious—that is all. If this obstinate Colonel Nord will not be pacified, Victor”—these two had long since dropped all formality of speech—“we’ll have to return to Riga and inspect his barracks—that is, if the colonel’s visit relates to this matter.” She spoke in a peculiar tone that piqued Sandoff’s curiosity. “What do you mean?” he asked quickly. Vera placed her finger to her lips, and glanced toward the sledge. “I will talk to you later on,” she whispered. Shamarin did not observe this little bit of byplay. His eyes had been fixed on the ground, and now he looked up and said uneasily, “It would be better to escape if possible. One can’t predict what may come of this visit.” “I rather agree with you,” replied Sandoff. He walked to the courtyard gate, looked out for a moment, and then came slowly back. “Escape is impossible,” he said. “Two Cossacks are standing at the western end of the street, and the gate before the military post is still closed and guarded.” The _starosta_ now appeared with the news that supper was waiting, so Sandoff and Vera entered the house, leaving Shamarin with the sledge, and promising to send him out some food. Vera and her companion felt little desire to eat as they sat down at opposite sides of the table. The post room was quite empty, and they could talk without being overheard. “Vera, what do you wish to tell me?” asked Sandoff, as he poured a cup of tea from the samovar. “Nothing,” she replied. “At least, nothing definite. I have only a vague suspicion.” “Of what?” “Of the contents of that iron chest. I believe that Serge Zamosc invented the story he told us about Colonel Nord, and I believe that the chest, if opened, would enlighten us somewhat. I can’t tell you why I think so, unless it is because Zamosc has been smiling to himself all day long and turning his eyes in the direction of the chest, when he thought he was unobserved.” Sandoff did not reply for a moment. He ate a few mouthfuls of food, and then rose from the table. “Your suggestion is worth acting upon,” he said. “I intend to get that chest open—by force if necessary, though I will make another short search for the key.” They passed out into the courtyard, the gate of which was already closed for the night. Sandoff climbed into the sledge—to Shamarin’s surprise—and hauling Zamosc to an upright position began a thorough search of his clothing. It proved unsuccessful, and Sandoff was about to desist when a sudden inspiration struck him. Dropping Zamosc on his back he drew off his right boot. When Sandoff shook it something rattled, and placing his hand inside he drew out a small iron key. “At last!” he exclaimed. “Why did I not think of that before?”