“And the czarevna’s charge that the Czar Feodor was poisoned will rouse the very devil among this ignorant rabble, and I was the late czar’s physician!” Von Gaden shrugged his shoulders. “I must even throw myself on the mercy of the Czarina Natalia, since the Miloslavskys would sacrifice my head right cheerfully, if it would promote their cause.” “I have imagined that Matveief could control these warring factions,” I said; “it needs a master’s hand and a cool head. Why does he not hasten to the scene of action?” Von Gaden smiled. “The ex-chancellor has an affection for his head, and likes to feel it on his shoulders,” he replied dryly. “His son sends him information, and I believe he is waiting for this storm to blow over before he launches his bark upon the sea of popular favor.” “This tempest will never blow over until it has spent its fury,” I rejoined. As I spoke, the doctor touched my arm, and signed to me to look in front of us. The moon was partially obscured by thin clouds, but there was light enough for me to see two figures ahead, one skulking in the rear of the other, and keeping in the shelter of the houses. The first one walked boldly along in the middle of the road, a large figure wrapped in a long cloak; the stealthy form was not quite so tall or broad, but more agile and fleet of foot. It was the peculiar movements of the latter that had attracted the physician’s notice. “Watch them,” he said in a low voice; “that fellow behind gains slowly but surely on the other, who is apparently unconscious of his pursuit.” “If I ever saw a murderer and his victim, I see them now,” I replied in as low a tone; “let us give the alarm.” The doctor shook his head. “Not yet,” he said; “rather follow and see the upshot of it. There is something familiar to me in the bearing of the taller man.”