Those who were present gazed in silence at the suffering priest, who could hardly stand on his feet, and who leaned exhausted against the wall. Although still young, the incredible hardships that he had undergone of fatigue as well as of hunger and thirst seemed to have entirely destroyed the bodily strength of the Jesuit. His face was deathly pale, and the hand which held his wide-brimmed hat trembled from excessive weakness. His black habit was covered with dust, as if he had been driven like a prisoner on the highway. Upon his breast there hung an honorable sign of distinction, bestowed by the new German Empire—the iron cross. After having saluted those present, this victim of modern humanity and liberal justice silently awaited the command of the Russian governor. “Your name is Indura, and you come from Kosow?” commenced the governor. “Yes, your honor!” answered the priest, in a feeble voice. “You have been expelled by the Prussian government, and in the holy Russian Empire you can find an abiding-place, and perhaps secure for yourself a splendid position, if you will renounce the Society of Jesus, and embrace the Russian state religion. Are you determined to do this?” asked the governor. “No, your honor! I prefer death to apostasy!” “Well, we will not hang you yet awhile!” brutally exclaimed the governor. “But we can send you to the mines of Siberia.” “That will be impossible, sir!” replied the Jesuit, with a faint smile. “for my strength is too far gone ever to reach Siberia.” Von Sempach had until now been a quiet spectator of the scene; alternate feelings of compassion and indignation filled his breast whenever he looked at the priest. He turned to Alexandra, in whose impassive features not a vestige of sympathy was visible. “Mademoiselle,” said he in a subdued voice, “a work of mercy is necessary in this case. This poor clergyman is dying from exhaustion. Will you have any objection if I offer him my seat?” The Russian lady turned fiercely around, like a serpent that had been trodden upon. “What do you mean, sir?” she answered, with a proud disdain. “Do you think that I will grant such a disgraceful request?” An angry flush overspread the face of the young man; his eyes gleamed with a new light, and a proud, contemptuous smile wreathed his lips. Alexandra at this moment had for ever forfeited the love of a heart of which she was unworthy. The governor meantime continued his questions. “As you still wish to remain a Jesuit,” said he, “that is, a man dangerous to the empire, an enemy of modern civilization, you will be sent to Siberia!” “Will your honor not procure me a passport to India?” “What do you want to do in India?” “We have missions there,” replied the priest. “As it is my vocation to work for the salvation of souls, I wish to preach there the doctrine of Christ according to my humble capacity.”