At these words the prisoner seemed to gasp for breath. "Baron Galetzoff, I am in your power," he exclaimed, "or you should pay dear for such an insult as you have now offered me. Think you that a son of my unhappy and enslaved country can be sunk so low as to hear calmly such vile propositions? No! you have torn us from our homes, you have taken from us our lands, you have ravaged our fields, you have overthrown our kingdom, and ruined our once proud families; but you cannot take from us our honour. I have ever been faithful to your Emperor, our conqueror. I defy your malice. I will speak no more." The Baron's own stern eye sunk before the noble indignation of the prisoner, as standing before him without trembling, he folded his arms on his breast. "Madman," cried the Baron furiously, "you bring your doom on your own head. No power in heaven or earth shall save you." Thaddeus spoke not, but looking towards heaven seemed to implore its aid. "Colonel Erintoff," continued the governor, "I commit this prisoner to your charge, and you will take measures that he does not escape." "I will strictly obey your orders, General," said the Count with a significant and sinister look. Closely guarded, Thaddeus was led out and placed in a miserable hut, built to serve the purpose of a prison for the fort. He passed a wretched night, heavily ironed. Indignation at the Baron's base propositions at first smothered all thoughts of his own impending fate. He rejoiced that Ivan had escaped; but he longed to warn him of the danger he ran; and the impossibility of doing so added to the poignancy of his feelings. By degrees the conviction of his own miserable destiny crept on him. "How dark! How wretched is all around me," he cried in the agony of his spirit. "Do thus end all my hopes of military glory? Must I die with my once proud name blackened and disgraced; my character as an officer maligned? My father's last few and sad days hastened by the foul history of his son's disgrace and untimely death? I cannot bear such thoughts! Oh that Ivan's unkind sword had rather cut me down on the field of battle, than saved me for this end! Little does he think that my anxiety to see him has been the cause of this misery. No! there is no hope, no glimpse of light left me in the world. Let me prepare then to meet my inevitable fate like a man, and then my comrades in arms may at least say, that I died with courage and firmness. And, oh heaven! give me strength to bear my lot." He prayed, and ere the morning broke he slept calmly, even on the hard ground, in sweet forgetfulness of his doom. He was awakened by the entrance of a soldier with an open letter, sent by his brutal gaoler, in hopes of adding to his misery. It was from his father's kind friend announcing the death of his parent, his last words being blessings on his son.