"Pardon me, madame; I have no time to bandy words with you, but your decision is somewhat too hasty. I have discovered that three days hence a desperate attempt is to be made upon the life of His Majesty during the review at Peterhof, and further, that you are implicated in it!" She started; she had believed her secret safe. "I have resolved to preserve silence," she said abruptly. "The plot is a most serious and widespread one," he continued, "and I tell you plainly that if you refuse to inform me where the meeting to arrange the final details will take place, I shall arrest both Denissoff and yourself as Nihilists. You have your choice." She was nonplussed, and sat twirling the ribbons of her dress with nervous fingers, while he leaned his elbows upon the table, looking at her intently. "I scarcely think it would be worth your while to refuse," he remarked. "For myself, I care nothing. I am tired of being your puppet." "You love Paul Denissoff; surely you will save him from Siberia?" She hesitated. She saw that to avoid Paul's arrest she would be compelled to sacrifice all the members of the committee to whom the elaborate plot against the autocrat Alexander had been entrusted. She shuddered at the thought of the scandal it would create were she arraigned before a court-martial for conspiracy against the Tzar, and thought of the dreary, lifelong exile that would inevitably follow. In her bewilderment she resolved to secure Paul's freedom at any cost. "So this is but another illustration of your Satanic cunning," she said at last, with knit brows. "I--I suppose it is imperative that I should betray my friends;" and she sighed heavily. "Ah! I thought you would not care to bear the consequences of refusal," he exclaimed, smiling at her perplexity. "You laugh!" she cried, her eyes flashing with anger. "It is true that you hold my destiny in your hands, but take care you do not provoke me to desperation." "Threats do not become you, madame," he replied coolly. "Tell me, where shall I find these conspirators?" She paused. She was thinking how she could save her friends. "You know the Bolshaia Ssattovaia?" she said suddenly. "Well, almost exactly opposite the Commercial Bank there is a small leather-shop, with a large kitchen below. Go there to-morrow night at ten o'clock." "Not to-night?" asked the chief of police, scribbling a memorandum. "No; to-morrow." "Very well," he said, rising and putting on his hat. "I am obliged for your information. _Bon jour_, madame. If I have been a little--a little abrupt, forgive me." A moment later he had gone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------