"Only the murder was not successful," he continued, "Sacha was unfortunately interrupted before he had completed the job." "Unfortunately!" "Yes. The headman of the village had taken Sacha's little sister against her will, and the boy did what he could to avenge her. The law is not of much use in such cases--to peasants, at least. The night before I left, some of his friends liberated him from the village jail, and brought him to me. Their trust in the power of learning is piteous. They demanded that I take him away with me to America. That was a little difficult without a passport, but I managed to smuggle him over the border." "How?" demanded Archie, round-eyed. "In my trunk," replied Nikolai, as if this were an everyday occurrence. "I had arranged with a carter to drive me and my luggage early the next day to the railroad. Instead, he drove me to the border, fortunately not very far distant. My luggage was almost smothered by the time we got there, however, despite the air-holes we had bored in the trunk. Poor Sacha!" "But did nobody examine your luggage?" asked Joan. Nikolai shrugged. "As I told you, in Russia there is great respect for learning--also for roubles. I am not without friends in high places. Such officials as I encountered quite understood that a man of learning like myself would naturally travel with a heavy trunkful of books, ventilated by air-holes--But I have been warned that it will not be safe for me to return to Russia. Thanks to this episode, in connection with recent writings of mine, I am no longer _persona grata_ there." He shrugged again. Archie's eyes were round. "Whew!" he commented. "That's what I call life! Sounds like Michael What's-his-name, the Courier of the Czar!" "I assure you," murmured Nikolai, "that I am anything but a courier of the Czar!..." Later, when they had gone upstairs, Joan came upon Archie examining her string of sapphires, with an expression that puzzled her. It was grave, and not very happy. "Dear," she said suddenly, "would you for any reason rather not have me accept this present from Stefan? It is very handsome, I know. But he is a rich man, my oldest friend, and he has been giving me things of this sort ever since I was a baby." He turned on her a look of pure astonishment. "Not accept it! Why, sweetheart, I'm tickled as I can be that such a beautiful thing should be given to you. It looks like you, too, somehow, as if it had been specially made for you. I was only wishing--" he sighed faintly--"that I could give you things like this myself. And those Mandarin coats, and laces and all he sends you, and--oh, life generally! You ought to see the world, Joan, like he does. Maybe you can," he added hopefully, "as soon as I get a little ahead."