Sabatoff’s voice had taken on a tone of cold, supercilious politeness. “This is the second secretary of General Pavloff, administrator of prisons. General Pavloff presents his compliments to Colonel Kavelin and begs to inform him that the Czar in his clemency has commuted the sentence of the prisoners Borodin and Sonya Varanova to life imprisonment.” “Why, I’m all ready to execute them!” exclaimed the governor. “The administrator also wishes me to inform you,” Sabatoff went on, “that it has been decided to remove these two prisoners, together with Razoff and the White One, to Schlusselburg.” “Remove them to Schlusselburg!” cried the governor. “What does this mean?” “I dare say that if General Pavloff had wished you to know the reason he would have instructed me to inform you,” was the cool response. “Pardon me,” Colonel Kavelin returned angrily, “but it seems to me that General Pavloff, knowing my record, could have considered the prisoners perfectly safe in my charge!” “I am not authorized to answer for General Pavloff. Do you know Captain Laroque of the gendarmerie?--who was recently transferred here from Moscow?” “No.” “Captain Laroque will be over within an hour with a guard and with an order for the prisoners. A special train will carry them to Schlusselburg. Have the prison van ready to take them to the station. The administrator asks that you make all haste when the captain comes.” Sabatoff hung up the receiver. “Weren’t you pretty high-handed with him?” suggested Drexel. “I had to be; that’s the manner of the administrator’s office. And you have got to be high-handed, too, for this Captain Laroque is one of the most brutal men in all the gendarmerie.” “Do I look the part?” Sabatoff glanced over the well-set figure in the long gray coat and top boots, with sword and pistol at the belt. “You’ll do very well if you remember to mix in plenty of scowls and curses.” A minute later they softly opened the front door and peered out. The little street was as empty as the night overhead, save for a driverless sleigh beside the curb. This they got into, and choosing the obscurest streets they drove swiftly to the south. Here in a mean, unlighted street, Sabatoff drew up before the vaguely seen gateway of a court. “Here we are,” he whispered. He softly coughed twice. In a few seconds through the gateway filed a dozen shadowy figures. Despite the darkness Drexel could see they wore the uniform of gendarmes. “Captain Laroque,” Sabatoff whispered to them. They touched their caps. “They know what to do,” Sabatoff whispered to Drexel. “When all is over, abandon the sleigh; there’s no clue connecting it with me. And all luck with you!”