assassinated by one who posed as his son many years ago."

The Count had risen quickly, and stood shaking from head to foot, his
trembling hand at his mouth.

"I have never seen him," he muttered. "I think your record office is
very close--you have no ventilation."

"Wait a little," said T. B., and he turned to the second dossier.

Presently he extracted another photograph, the photograph of a young
man, a singularly good-looking youth, and laid it on the table by the
side of the other picture.

"Do you know this gentleman?" asked T. B.

There was no reply.

"It is the photograph of the murderer," the detective went on, "and
unfortunately this was not his only crime. You will observe there are
two distinct folders, each filled with particulars of our young friend's
progress along the path which leads to the gallows."

He sorted out another photograph. It was a beautiful girl in a Russian
peasant costume; evidently the portrait of some one taken at a fancy
dress ball, because both the refined face and the figure of the girl
were inconsistent with the costume.

"That is the Princess Lydia Bontasky," said T. B., "one of the victims
of our young friend's treachery. Here is another."

The face of the fourth photograph was plain, and marked with sorrow.

"She was shot at Kieff by our young and high-spirited friend, and died
of her wounds. Here are particulars of a bank robbery organized five
years ago by a number of people who called themselves anarchists, but
who were in reality very commonplace, conventional thieves unpossessed
of any respect for human life. But I see this does not interest you."

He closed the dossier and put it back into its envelope, before he
looked up at the Count's face. The man was pale now, with a waxen pallor
of death.

"They are very interesting," he muttered.

He stumbled rather than walked the length of the room, and he had not
recovered when they reached the corridor.

"This is the way out," said T. B., as he indicated the broad stairs. "I
advise you, Count Poltavo, to step warily. It will be my duty to inform
the Russian police that you are at present in this country. Whether they
move or do not move is a problematical matter. Your fellow-countrymen
are not specially energetic where crimes of five years' standing are
concerned. But this I warn you,"--he dropped his hand upon the other's
shoulder,--"that if you stand in my way I shall give you trouble which
will have much more