Whether the prisoners had escaped or been recaptured, it was clear that Drexel could do no more and that it was time for him to consider his own safety. Sabatoff aided him to change into the clothes of a citizen, and once more he set forth from the little house, Sabatoff promising to send news of the fugitives if any came to him. An hour later, having changed from sleigh to sleigh to hide his trail, he drove up to the Hotel Europe. A sense of personal relief descended upon him as he entered the hotel. He was once more Henry Drexel, American citizen. It was too early yet to see his uncle’s family, so he went to his room and stretched himself upon his bed. But weary as he was, there was no sleep for him. Was Sonya now in safety--or had she been recaptured in the hour of escape and was she now lying again in her dungeon in Peter and Paul? This uncertainty throbbed through him with every pulse-beat. And there was no active measure he could take to learn the truth. He could do nothing but wait; wait for good or evil news from Sabatoff, or wait till rumour or the papers brought him news that could be only of disaster. His mind went back to that strange introduction to Sonya upon the Moscow train. Half his life seemed to have been lived since then--and yet this epoch included but a fortnight! She passed before him in the various aspects which the two weeks had shown him; as the shawled factory girl; as the princess, proud with the pride of a thousand years; as the ardent saviour of her brother’s life; he saw her go calmly down the stairs of the house in Three Saints’ Court to give him chance of escape; saw her in her dungeon, with calm and lofty mien prepared to mount the sacrificial scaffold. And this rare figure, while the smoke had swirled and the flames had flared wildly round them, this rare figure had kissed his brow, and said she loved him! The remembrance of that moment swept him in dizzy awe to heaven.... But where was she now? He could stand this inactive ignorance no longer. He got into a suit of his own clothes and went down to the dining-room. Perhaps news might already be circulating there, for the Hotel Europe was a favourite resort of officialdom. With swift sight he picked out three officers whose breakfast of tea and sweet rolls was forgotten in excited converse. Masking any possible show of emotion behind the Paris Herald, he took the table adjoining them, his ears wide open. Sure enough, they were rehearsing last night’s events in Peter and Paul. It appeared that Governor Kavelin had been discovered and released at five o’clock and all St. Petersburg was now beginning to reverberate with the affair. They had the whole story, even the awesome picture of the fall of Prince Berloff beneath the manacles of The White One, followed by her own swift death--for Colonel Kavelin had been far enough revived to be a witness to the double tragedy.