sky, and in Full of his Marvellous Adventures in East Siberia
among the Deer Men_.'"

The baron looked up for instructions.

"Tell us when it was printed," Del ordered him.

"In Warsaw, 1807."

The pocket-miner turned triumphantly to the room. "Did you hear that?
Just keep track of it. 1807, remember!"

The baron took up the opening paragraph. "'_It was because of
Tamerlane_,'" he commenced, unconsciously putting his translation into
a construction with which he was already familiar.

At his first words Frona turned white, and she remained white
throughout the reading. Once she stole a glance at her father, and was
glad that he was looking straight before him, for she did not feel able
to meet his gaze just them. On the other hand, though she knew St.
Vincent was eying her narrowly, she took no notice of him, and all he
could see was a white face devoid of expression.

"'_When Tamerlane swept with fire and sword over Eastern Asia_,'"
Courbertin read slowly, "'_states were disrupted, cities overthrown,
and tribes scattered like--like star-dust. A vast people was hurled
broadcast over the land. Fleeing before the conquerors_,'--no,
no,--'_before the mad lust of the conquerors, these refugees swung far
into Siberia, circling, circling to the north and east and fringing the
rim of the polar basin with a spray of Mongol tribes_.'"

"Skip a few pages," Bill Brown advised, "and read here and there. We
haven't got all night."

Courbertin complied. "'_The coast people are Eskimo stock, merry of
nature and not offensive. They call themselves the Oukilion, or the
Sea Men. From them I bought dogs and food. But they are subject to
the Chow Chuen, who live in the interior and are known as the Deer Men.
The Chow Chuen are a fierce and savage race. When I left the coast
they fell upon me, took from me my goods, and made me a slave_.'" He
ran over a few pages. "'_I worked my way to a seat among the head men,
but I was no nearer my freedom. My wisdom was of too great value to
them for me to depart. . . Old Pi-Une was a great chief, and it was
decreed that I should marry his daughter Ilswunga. Ilswunga was a
filthy creature. She would not bathe, and her ways were not good . . .
I did marry Ilswunga, but she was a wife to me only in name. Then did
she complain to her father, the old Pi-Une, and he was very wroth. And
dissension was sown among the tribes; but in the end I became mightier
than ever, what of my