This corresponded pretty nearly with fact. About a year previously, in 1883, Plehànov, Vera Zassoùlitch, Axelrod, and I had founded the Social-Democratic organisation—“The League for the Emancipation of Labour”; the object of which was to spread the doctrines of Marx in Russia, by means of translations and original writings. Some of the papers in my box were of this description, the first fruits of our literary activity, which had just been printed by our private press established for the purpose. These words seemed to make some impression on the magistrate. He walked up and down excitedly, while he dictated my statement to the clerk, assured me repeatedly of his sympathy, and asserted his keen disapproval of the way in which the police had behaved towards me and the young lady. At one point he muttered, “Still, as Othello says, ‘The handkerchief, the handkerchief!’” Herr Leiblen appeared to be quite on my side, and Professor Thun told me later that he had declared the matter seemed to him harmless enough; in his opinion here was a perfectly innocent person being kept shut up in prison, and he hoped I should soon be set free. I had therefore a well-grounded hope of obtaining my release in due course; nevertheless doubts continued to arise, and thoughts of escape still haunted me. With some slight help from outside it would probably have been by no means difficult during these first days of my imprisonment. One day, while I was still in this state of suspense betwixt hope and fear, I was called into the visitors' room. I expected to find Professor Thun there, and was surprised at being confronted by a man perfectly unknown to me. He introduced himself by name (I cannot recollect it now), and informed me that he was a lawyer, who had been engaged by my friends to undertake my defence. He announced himself as a comrade, a member of the Social-Democratic party, and invited me to be quite open with him, as my friends had already told him everything concerning my past career. “You think of attempting to escape?” he asked in a whisper; and when I assented he continued quickly, “That would be a most fatal mistake. I have just seen the minutes of your case; the affair is going splendidly for you. I have no doubt you will soon be set at liberty. Why should you risk the dangers of a flight? If the attempt were to fail you would be in an infinitely worse position than now. I have been talking to the magistrate; he is convinced there is nothing of any significance against you. As soon as inquiries in Switzerland have elicited a satisfactory reply regarding your identity you will be released.” “But,” I interposed, “supposing a simultaneous inquiry is set on foot in Russia?”