“Why, you see, there were very important interests of State to consider,” he said. “It was like this: if you were brought before an ordinary tribunal and only prosecuted on the Gorinòvitch count, you might be merely condemned to seven or eight years in Siberia; and that would not be agreeable in _high quarters_.” He accented the last words. “But they cannot try me otherwise,” I cried. “Germany only extradited me on that stipulation.” “Well, that remains to be seen,” said he. “We are at present on very good terms with Bismarck, and he would not mind at all giving us this little proof of his friendship. Or, if necessary, it could easily be made out that you had committed some offence _after_ your extradition. Which reminds me—the Germans have sent us on all the notes that you made in Freiburg gaol.” I was utterly astonished. I remembered that from sheer ennui I had now and then written down odds and ends of notes, plans, etc., while I was at Freiburg, but I could not conceive how those scraps could have come into the hands of the Russian Government, for I had destroyed all my manuscripts before leaving. I could only suppose that when I was out of my cell for exercise some single sheets might have been abstracted. Even then it seemed impossible that they could afford any foundation for a fresh accusation sufficient to set aside the extradition treaty with Germany. But Kotliarèvsky reassured me on that head. “Oh, never fear! they would soon manage that. Nothing would be easier than to get Germany’s consent, and then they would sentence you according to your deserts. People who have had far less against them than you—Malìnka, Drebyàsgin, Maidànsky—have long ago been executed. And you—you broke out of prison just when you were at last to be brought up for judgment in the Gorinòvitch case. Then for quite eight years you were engaged in conspiracies; and then you were the instigator, along with Stefanòvitch, of the Tchigirìn affair, and so on, and so on. That all this should only let you in for a few years’ hard labour did not at all suit the views of Government. So when you were extradited a special council was held in _high circles_. Of course, I was not there. I am not numbered among the elect; but this is what I have been told. At first they were all unanimous in declaring that a modification of the extradition treaty must be arranged, so that you might be brought before a special tribunal. Then, as you can easily imagine, they would have made short work with you! But one of these great personages had a qualm, and he urged, ‘Germany might fall in with our views. Well and good! But is that really a good precedent? They have caught Deutsch for us now. To-morrow a still more important capture might be made in some other country, and then it might be hard for us to get an extradition. The Press would make a hubbub; they would say, Russia never respects treaties, and would point to the case of Deutsch as an example.’ This