re. I remember him later as a
man of more mature years, whose whole being was saddened by the
afflictions and wrongs his fellow-countrymen were suffering; and still
later on I wished him God-speed upon his weary march, with his brother
exiles, to Siberia. In God's good time, and through your agency, I
look forward to welcoming him among us once more. Madame Bernstein
tells me you love the little Katherine here. If so, I can only say
that I think you are going the right way to prove it. I pray that you
may know long life and happiness together."

The old gentleman was genuinely affected. Large tears trickled down
his weather-beaten cheeks, and his voice became thick and husky.
Browne's tender heart was touched by this unexpected display of
emotion, and he felt a lump rising in his throat, that for a few
seconds threatened to choke him. And yet, what was there to account
for it? Only a young man, a pretty girl, a stout middle-aged lady in a
puce gown, and a seedy old foreigner, who, in days long gone by, had
known the young girl's father. After this little episode they quieted
down somewhat, and Madame Bernstein proposed that they should discuss
the question they had so much at heart. They did so accordingly, with
the exception of the old gentleman, who sat almost silent. It was not
until he heard her expound the subject, that Browne became aware of the
extent and thoroughness of Madame's knowledge concerning Russia and her
criminal administration. She was familiar with every detail, even to
the names and family histories of the various governors and officers;
she knew who might be considered venal, and whom it would be dangerous
to attempt to bribe; who were lenient with their charges, and who lost
no opportunity of tyrannizing over the unfortunates whom Fate had
placed in their power. Listening to her one might very well have
supposed that she had herself travelled every verst of that weary road.
Plan after plan she propounded, until Browne felt his brain reel under
the strain of it. A little before midnight he rose to leave, and Herr
Sauber followed his example.

"If Monsieur Browne is walking in the direction of the Rue de l'Opera,
I should be glad of his company," he said. "That is to say, if he has
no objection to being hindered by a poor old cripple, who can scarcely
draw one foot after the other."

Browne expressed the pleasure such a walk would afford him; and, when
they had bidden the ladies go