She had the courage of her ancient race, but when she drew up at the gate of that great gray pile she could not keep down the pulsing fears. Such a world of things hung upon the next few moments; and here, before those high grim walls, how small the chance of success became, how great and instant seemed the dangers! The governor, perhaps thinking to regain lost favour with the Government, might hear her through and then virtuously reject the offer. He would say a word, lift a hand, and she would be caught in that giant trap. To insure her admission she had sent ahead a note to Governor Delwig, stating that she was calling to give him important information relative to one of the prisoners. At the announcement of her name (she had signed the note Madame Smirnova) she was admitted to the Fortress and conducted to a room opening into the governor’s office. But she was not to see him at once; the governor esteemed his life too dearly to let a stranger come straight into his presence. A sentry made a search of her, uncoiling even her thick black hair, peering even into her mouth, to see that no compact explosive was hidden there. This ceremony completed, word was sent in to the governor that all was well; whereupon an order came out for her admission. Governor Delwig looked curtly up from a big flat-topped desk as the door closed behind her. But his manner changed at sight of his visitor. Sonya knew what a powerful ally is good dress in dealing with officials, and had attired herself accordingly. He arose. “Madame Smirnova, I believe?” he said, and with a bow he offered her a chair. She sat down, and through her veil made a quick study of the man upon whom her life now hung. He was half bald, but amends were made by a proud, wide-flaring beard, and a thick, upturned moustache. His face was puffed with good feeding and written over with the red script of a thousand wine bottles--a face that could show hearty good fellowship among friends, and that now regarded Sonya with bland and deferential courtesy, but behind which she saw a cruel, selfish, unprincipled nature. “I believe you have some information to give regarding one of the prisoners,” he said. Near his seemingly uncognizant right hand lay a pistol--silent warning to visitors to make no suspicious move. With an effort she got her dread and dislike of this man under control. “Yes,” she said. “Regarding the prisoner Borodin.” His face took on a blank expression. “Borodin? There is no such prisoner here, madame.” “I am aware, Governor Delwig, that you are under orders to pretend ignorance of him. But I have definite knowledge that he is in the Fortress.” Her positive tone, no less than her positive words, had its effect upon him. He hesitated. “And what did you wish to say?” She knew that gradual approach to her purpose would count for nothing here. “First, I desire to say, governor, that I realise that in coming here I have put my life in your hands.”