hree men were looking
at a fourth man--a young man who appeared to be falling out of his
chair, clutching convulsively the hilt of a dagger, the blade of which
had been buried in his heart, clearly by Macari, who stood over him.

I cannot explain this vision. I only saw it when I held Pauline's hand.
When I let her hand drop the scene vanished. You may call it cataleptic,
clairvoyant, anything you will; it was as I relate.

_IV.--Seeking the Truth in Siberia_

Macari called on me the day after this strange scene to ask me about the
memorial to Victor Emanuel.

"Before I consent to help you," I said, "I must know why you murdered a
man three years ago in a house in Horace Street."

He sprang to his feet and grasping my arm, looked intently into my eyes.
I saw that he recognised me in spite of the great change that blindness
makes in a face.

"Why should I deny the affair to an eye-witness? To others I would deny
it fast enough. Now, my fine fellow, my gay bridegroom, my dear
brother-in-law, I will tell you why I killed that man. He had insulted
my family. That man was Pauline's lover!"

He saw what was in my face as I rose and walked towards him.

"Not here," he said hastily, "what good can it do here--a vulgar scuffle
between two gentlemen?"

"Go," I cried, "murderer and coward. Every word you have spoken to me
has been a lie, and because you hate me you have to-day told me the
greatest lie of all."

He left me with a look of malicious triumph in his face. I knew he lied,
but how could I prove that he lied? Only Ceneri could tell me the truth.
He was in Siberia, and, mad as the scheme seemed, thither I determined
to go to get the whole truth from his lips.

I exerted all the influence I possessed. I spent money freely, and with
a special passport signed by the Czar himself, which placed all the
resources of the Russian police at my disposal, I passed across Russia
into Siberia. At last, after travelling thousands of miles, I came up
with the gang of wretched prisoners in which the doctor was. Showing my
papers to the officer in command, I was taken at once to the awful
prison-house. I had him brought to me in a private room, and placed
before him food and drink.

"I want to ask you some questions," I said, "questions which you alone
can answer."

"Ask them. You have given me an hour's release from misery. I am
grateful."

"The first question I have to ask is--who and what is that man Macari?"

Ce