Katerin looked over Peter’s head, toward the window, and thought for a second as if recalling the appearance of her father. “He is a tall man, strong but not heavy,” she said slowly. “A face inclined to redness—and black mustaches. He is a soldier, of course, and stands very straight.” “Of course,” said Peter. He recognized the description, for Katerin had described her father as he had looked when he was in his prime. “Does he go about the city? Could I recognize him by his uniform?” He was eager but cautious. “He might be found at the _sobrania_ late at night,” said Katerin. “But he will be well guarded. You should be careful in approaching him, for he has a secret bodyguard, as well as the officers who generally are drinking wine with him. He does not wear a uniform, but rich furs, and he wears his pistols out of sight. He does not always dress the same, for he has been a cruel man, and is much hated by many people.” “Do you know where he lives?” asked Peter, who was taking care to conceal his eagerness to get all possible details. He asked his questions with an assumed indifference. “No, I cannot say. But I am sure my father knows. But what good would it do you to know?” “Not any,” said Peter. “Yet I would like to find this Kirsakoff. Where is your father?” “Here—in the hotel,” said Katerin. “Perhaps it would be as well if I were to ask the Ataman about Kirsakoff,” said Peter. “Yet I would like to talk with your father, if he would see me.” “By all means talk with my father,” said Katerin hastily. “It would be fatal for you to admit to the Ataman that you had ever heard of Kirsakoff’s ever being here, or concerned in the government of the Ataman. That is a secret they will conceal at any cost—and that is why we are in danger, my father and I.” “But Zorogoff would not know how I had learned about Kirsakoff. And I might plead ignorance—I might even test the Ataman by asking him if he knew where Kirsakoff might be found.” “I have put my life in your hands,” said Katerin earnestly. “If you mention Kirsakoff to the Ataman, he will know that you have been talking with us here in the hotel. And Zorogoff’s soldiers will come for us at once.” She rose, rather agitated by Peter’s idea of talking with the Ataman. The effect upon her was exactly what Peter sought—for he wanted to talk with her father. If she feared that Peter would go to the Ataman instead for information, she would make it possible for Peter to learn more of Kirsakoff and his haunts. “I do not intend to increase your danger,” said Peter, also rising. “Have no fear on that score. But I am bound to find Kirsakoff in some way—unless your father can help me I shall have to make inquiries in my own way.” “It can be arranged that you talk with my father,” she said, moving toward the door. “Is it really necessary that you find Kirsakoff?” “Not necessary, perhaps,” he said. “But I strongly desire to find him.” “I—I would like to know the reason.”