Florence told him. The die was cast now, and no holding back was possible. “But, say,” she concluded, almost wistfully, “you won’t hurt those Wilkinses, will you? They’re right nice boys, and while, of course, I ain’t treating them any worse than they treated Mr. Caruth, still, I’d hate to have their deaths on my conscience.” The Baron laughed happily and pinched Florence’s cheek. “Oh ho!” he cried. “I am to spare everybody, am I?--even the Wilkinses? You are too tender hearted for Russia, Princess! But I’ll do it this time. I’ll spare them if they’ll let me. Now, Princess, au revoir. As soon as you are ready, we will start for the Embassy.” CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Consciousness struggled back to Caruth slowly, but it came at last. All about him was the roar of a great passenger station, the murmur of voices, the tramp of feet, the banging of carriage doors, the thump of baggage. Dully he put his hand to his head and felt a tremendous swelling just above his forehead. Then he looked around at the unfamiliar foreign faces that ringed him about. Somebody was questioning him in harsh spitting Russian. He did not understand, and shook his head petulantly, only to cease quickly on account of the pain which the movement caused him. Memory had returned with a jerk, and he wondered whether Marie had escaped. He must give her as much time as he could to pass the gates. He closed his eyes and lay silent. Five minutes sped by. Then he was picked up, bundled into a cab, and driven away. He gathered that he was under arrest, but he was not troubled. His story was unassailable. Besides, his head ached too much for him to think of anything else. On the way to headquarters his head became better, and on his arrival he was able to talk quite clearly and connectedly to a courteous individual who spoke English very well. Caruth did not know it, but it was Baron Demidroff himself who questioned him. “I especially regret that this should have happened to you, Mr. Caruth,” he said apologetically. “You must already have a very poor opinion of Russia, I fear, after your unfortunate experience in the _Sea Spume_.” A qualm came to Caruth as he realized that he was known, but it quickly passed. After all, the knowledge merely anticipated the story he was about to tell. He shrugged his shoulders. “Such things happen everywhere, Monsieur,” he replied. “Don’t trouble about it.” The Baron smiled. “Certain inquiries must be made,” he answered. “Can you give me a description of the person who robbed you?” The young man hesitated. Lying did not come easily to him. “Not very well,” he said reluctantly. “I had no reason for noticing him. Generally speaking, he was tall and broad and had a thick beard.” “We found the beard in the railway carriage. He carried off your overcoat and hat, you say?” “Probably.” “Then he could not have been very stout. You are too slender for your clothing to fit a very large man. Is it not so?”