tel or at the Zouroff concert. He
told me yesterday he was going there to-night to play. We will send
round a guarded note to each, only to be delivered into his own
hands."

This was done, and the two men waited for the result. The man
despatched to the Palace returned first. He had inquired for Signor
Corsini and was told that he had left a long time ago.

The other messenger arrived a few seconds later. He had seen the
manager of the hotel. Corsini had not come back, a most unusual thing,
since for a man in his profession he kept early hours.

"The inference seems pretty clear," observed the General. "If he had
intended to stay at the house of some friends he would have told the
manager. Still, he may have gone on to some other party, although I
doubt it. Well, if Corsini is in that carriage, and it seems most
probable, we shall soon have him back in St. Petersburg."

"And when we get him back we must have him closely guarded," said
Golitzine; "at any rate until we have discovered the perpetrators of
this outrage."

"That may prove an easy matter, or one of great difficulty," was
Beilski's comment. "Madame Quero herself is, of course, no use to us.
She would never admit that she wrote that letter. Do you happen to
know her handwriting?"

"Yes; I have had half a dozen letters from her on professional
matters. The handwriting bears not the slightest resemblance to this.
But, of course, she would be too shrewd to write it herself, even in a
feigned hand. She dictated it to some female accomplice."

"By the way," added the Count as they separated for the night, "they
will bring back the occupant of the carriage, who I think we may
safely presume to be Corsini, to your own quarters, of course?"

"Of course," assented the General.

"Well, bring him on to me while his impressions are red-hot, you
understand? We want to bring it home to the real instigators."

* * * * *

While these two high functionaries were discussing matters, the
travelling carriage, with the senseless young man inside, was
proceeding on the Moscow road at a fast pace.

One of the two ruffians produced a stout piece of cord and proceeded
to twist it round the arms and legs of the helpless man.

"He doesn't seem capable of showing much fight," he said to his
companion with an evil grin, "but one never knows. A liver-hearted
chicken would fight for life and liberty. Best to make sure."

He bound him securely