“M. le Vicomte,” he said in a subdued voice, “begging your pardon, we had better go to your quarters.” “What do you mean, knave?” I exclaimed sharply, stopping short. “Nothing, my lord,” he replied calmly, “except that I think it probable that that Russian devil of M. Ramodanofsky’s has roasted the other one by this time.” “You fool!” I cried. “Did you leave Polotsky at Michael’s mercy?” Pierrot’s stolidity was never shaken. “You were in peril, M. le Vicomte,” he said doggedly, “and I cared not a rap whether he roasted forty Russians or not, so long as I saved you. The fellow is a vile knave anyway, and might as well be dead as alive; only I thought your excellency might object to his cooking him at your quarters.” “You rogue!” I cried angrily. “Go at once and protect the wretch until I come; I have not a moment to lose now.” With considerable reluctance he obeyed, walking off slowly, and looking back more than once over his shoulder. I went on rapidly, turning my face towards the Kremlin. If Homyak had returned from his errand, he would be about the palace, and I was determined to find him. CHAPTER XXIII. HOMYAK. AT last, after so much ill luck, fortune favored me. At no great distance from Von Gaden’s house, in a lonely street, I saw a small figure dodging along ahead of me. Dark as it was, I was certain of my discovery. There were many court dwarfs, but there was something about Homyak’s figure and gait that was unmistakable. He did not know who was behind him, and was off his guard. In a moment I had overtaken him, and had him by the collar; he shrieked and cowered like a frightened animal, but I put my pistol to his head for the second time. “Be quiet, you rogue!” I said, in a low tone. “If you make any outcry, it will cost you your life.” He recognized my voice at once, and I fancied that he drew a long breath of relief. “Why do you use me so ill, M. le Vicomte?” he whined. “I was on my way to the Kremlin on business for her majesty; it is not safe to interfere with me; the czarina--” I had turned him about, and was half pushing, half dragging him along. “You will come back with me, nevertheless,” I replied calmly, making my way towards Von Gaden’s. “You can give us some information that we need, and give it you shall.” He whimpered in the darkness, and writhed in my hands like the miserable ape that he was. “I know nothing, M. de Brousson,” he cried feverishly; “you are wasting time on a poor wretch who cannot fight you.” I did not reply, but tightened my grip on his collar, remembering Zénaïde, and longing to whip the hound as he deserved. But he was determined not to give up without a protest. “Where are you taking me?” he moaned. “I shall be punished at the palace for my delay. What can your excellency want with so humble a creature?” I smiled grimly in the darkness; I was not without some enjoyment of the situation.