“Your oath! Remember your oath!” she cried. “You dare not break it. You must save my brother, as you have sworn to do. It cannot imperil you, for none will ever know how he escaped. Give him such a passport as you give to your own agents when they are sent out of Russia on police business. He will be perfectly disguised, and the manner of his escape will never even be suspected.” She looked at Sandoff, and seeing no trace of pity or of yielding on his stern features, she sank back on the chair and gave way to a flood of tears, her slender frame shaking with emotion. Sandoff fixed his eyes vacantly on the floor. He was passing through a tremendous mental struggle. He could easily do what this girl asked of him—but only at the cost of his honor. He did not fear that his treachery to the government would be discovered—his power was too absolute for that—but he knew that the sting of conscience would be always with him; that he would ever be reminded by that self accusing mentor of his unfitness to retain his high position and the confidence of the Czar. But on the other hand his word was binding. He had sworn to aid this girl to his utmost power—had taken the oath with a full knowledge of the straits into which it might some day lead him, remote as such a contingency seemed at the time. Moreover, her tears and her beauty now moved him to pity. He deplored the fact that one so young and fair should be connected with the revolutionary party. As he thus reviewed his unpleasant situation, a clock on his desk struck the hour of ten, and the girl rose quickly to her feet. “If you intend to save him you must lose no time,” she sobbed. “Your police are drawing closer every moment, and he dare not leave his hiding place without means of getting away from the city. Do you think that it cost me nothing to save your life a year ago? You are mistaken. My act was discovered, and I was cruelly beaten. But for my brother I should have been killed. Do you still hesitate? If you care nothing for your oath, I appeal to your pity. Help me, I implore you, and I shall be grateful as long as I live. If you will send my brother safely out of Russia, I promise you that he shall never return. My influence over him is great, and he will do what I ask. Oh, help him—help him for my sake——” Her voice failed her. She stood before Sandoff with her hands outstretched, and the tears coursing down her cheeks. He was visibly moved by her misery. “Have no fear, your brother shall be saved,” he said gently. “I will keep my promise, even at the sacrifice of my honor. In return I ask of you two things—that Felix Shamarin shall never return to Russia, and that none shall know what I have done tonight.”