ould be on her way to Siberia within the week, he broke out in
curses and threats, to which, of course, not one of us paid the
slightest attention. When he found that we did not notice him in any
way, but proceeded quietly with our business, he relapsed into a moody
silence, and I knew that my moral lesson was working. I knew that I
could save Zara's brother, for that is what I meant to do. When the
lists were completed, and I had given my orders regarding who was to be
arrested that night, and who was to be spared, having directed that
certain of them be told that they could obtain passports out of the
country under certain conditions, I dismissed my leaders, and at last
stood alone in the presence of Ivan.

"Now, sir," I said coldly, "what do you think of it?"

"I think that this night will see the end of our cause, until other
children are born who will grow up to know the wrongs to which the
people of Russia have to submit. You may crush out nihilism to-day, but
you cannot crush it out forever. It will spring up again like----"

"Like the poisonous weed that it is. I expect that, but this present
growth will be cut down to-night. You do not ask what is to be done
with you, Ivan."

"Why should I? I know."

"I am afraid that you do not."

"One who would send my beautiful sister to Siberia--Bah! I will not
talk with you."

"Have I been unmerciful except to those who are confessed murderers,
and those who are only awaiting a chance to kill?"

"No," he replied, reluctantly.

"Do you not see how impossible it is to accomplish what your people
want to do, by the commission of crimes? You, who were one of the men
waiting to kill me as soon as I came out of the house of your
sister--what was your first thought when my men fell upon and arrested
you? Did you not think that your sister had betrayed you all to me?"

"Yes."

"Did you not say so?"

He hung his face in shame and answered:

"Yes."

"Is that not the thought among your friends at this moment, and would
the life of your sister be safe from them if she were in her own house
to-night?"

"It would not."

"And yet, you call such people your friends--those who would without
question put her to death on mere suspicion--to a death to which you
have helped to condemn her by your own foul suspicions and the more
foul utterance of them. Shame on you, Ivan de Echeveria! Shame on you!"
Pain contorted his face, and he was silent. "Did you fire the bullet
tha