Petersburg,
as I have proposed, you will be thought by them to be dead, or in
Siberia, which is about the same thing. In the mean time you can write
to any one whom you wish to have know that you are still alive; you can
receive replies under an assumed name, and----"

"Enough, sir. I accept. You guessed rightly when you said that I am not
a nihilist at heart. I am one because I love a woman who is one. That
will suffice for the present. Later, I may tell you more about it. I am
disposed to make another condition concerning her but I see that it
would be useless; and perhaps you will grant me a favor if I ask it,
when you discover that I have not deceived you in what I shall tell
you."

"You may be quite sure of it, if it is a reasonable one. Now tell me
your name."

"You do not care about my true name, I suppose?"

"I want the one by which you are known among the nihilists."

"Jean Moret."

"And here, in the palace?"

"The same."

"I shall send you to your prison now. I cannot promise what it will be
for to-night. To-morrow I will see you and will keep my word in every
respect. In the mean time I want you to think over all that you have to
say to me so that we may lose as little time as possible when we meet
again."

I left him then and went to the door. Outside, waiting in the corridor
was the prince, and in a few words I explained to him what had taken
place during his absence at the same time apologizing for having sent
him from the room. Then I asked that the captain of the palace guard be
sent for, and in a few moments Jean Moret was placed in his care. After
that the prince and I smoked another cigarette together and then parted
for the night.

"Mr. Derrington," he said, as he was about to take his leave, "I am
more than ever convinced that you are the right man in the right place.
Tell me how you discovered the presence of that spy. I had no idea that
he was there, and thought that we were entirely alone."

"I knew he was there the moment we entered the room," I replied. "It is
my habit to glance at everything in sight whenever I enter an
apartment, and I do it now without realizing that I do so, if you can
understand the seeming paradox. When we passed the threshold I saw
instantly that one of the curtains did not hang properly, so I seated
myself in a position from which I could keep it in view. Twice I saw
that it moved; a very little to be sure, but enough to satisfy me that
somebody was conc