"She is lonely without her father, and in order to secure her property, which is about to be seized by her uncle, she is bound to be in St Petersburg within fourteen days." "Fourteen days," repeated my friend, reflectively. "Let's see, to-day's the twelfth," and he made some rapid calculations upon his blotting-pad. "Well, what else?" he inquired, looking up at me keenly. "Nothing, except that she dare not return under her own name." "I should scarcely think she'd better," he laughed, "unless she wants to spend the remainder of her days in that rather uncomfortable hotel called Schlusselburg, where the beds are not aired, and there are no toilet-glasses. But, tell me," he added gravely, a moment later, "why do you interest yourself in her welfare? She's entertaining and rather pretty, I've been told, but surely you, who are engaged to that charming girl to whom you introduced me at the Gaiety one evening a few weeks ago, really ought not to associate yourself with Anton Korolenko's daughter? She's a criminal." "I have an object," I said briefly. "Every man says that when a girl has taken his fancy. I know the world, old fellow." "But it so happens that I've not been captivated by her charms," I retorted. "Well, my dear Geoffrey," he said, in a tone of unusual gravity, "take my advice and keep away from her. Ever since you induced me to secure her her liberty, I have honestly regretted it, knowing as I do the terrible crimes alleged against the gang of which she and her villainous old father were prominent members." "What kind of crimes were they?" "Everything, from picking pockets to murder," he answered. "They stuck at nothing, so long as they secured the huge stakes for which they played. Has she been again weaving for your benefit any more of her tragic romances? She'd make a fortune as a novelist." I paused in deep thought. "Truth to tell," I said at last, "she has made an allegation against the woman I love." "Against Ella Laing?" he exclaimed, a faint shadow of anger crossing his brow. "What has she said? Tell me; perhaps I can suggest a way of dealing with her," he added quickly. "She's most unscrupulous; her tongue is tipped with venom." "She has given me to understand that Ella is an adventuress, and my most bitter enemy," I blurted out suddenly. He flung down his pen in anger, a fierce imprecation in Russian upon his lips. The reason of his sudden annoyance was a mystery, but his quick eyes noticed my amazement, and in on instant he assumed a calm demeanour, saying, in a voice of reproach,-- "So this woman, who has libelled Ella, you are striving to assist, eh? Well, what ground has she for her allegation?" "She will tell me only on one condition." "And what is that?" "If I induce you to give her a false passport, and promise not to inform the frontier police of her intended departure, she will relate to me the truth," I said.