r almost a year.
Almost a year ago a boy was stolen from a castle in the northern part of
Russia. He was five years old, and the owner--since the assassination of
his father--of what would make a whole state in this country of yours.
The Nihilists were suspected, this time with some reason, as it
transpired that one of their important members--a woman--had obtained
employment in the castle. She and the child vanished together. There was
little hope that the young Prince would escape his father's fate, but in
the absence of any proof of his death the whole Russian secret service
and the Consular Service were notified. It was just possible, you see,
that his captors would try to use him as a hostage or as the price of
some concession. The woman was stopped at the frontier. Unfortunately
she was--accidentally, you understand--killed before she had accounted
for the boy, who was not then with her. As I have said, all this
occurred a year ago, and nothing has been heard of the child. You can
imagine the distracted grief of this fair lady, his mother, touching the
miniature."

"And you think," cried Miss Bailey, "that my little Fire-lighter----"

"Is the owner of one of the most exalted titles in Russia, and one of
the richest estates. He wore this locket when he was abducted. But we
are letting time pass. May I ask you"--this to the Consul--"to order my
car? His Highness must be removed at once into suitable surroundings."

"Then my mission is accomplished," said Miss Bailey, and rose to take
her leave. But never had she encountered cordiality so insistent as
these courteous gentlemen then exhibited. She must, she really must, go
to the hospital with them and see the end of the affair. In vain she
pleaded other engagements, and promised to telephone later in the
evening to hear whether the Prince's interview with the waif had
corroborated the evidence of the locket. She was offered the use of the
official telephone for the breaking of her engagements, and when her
hosts left her alone to achieve this purpose, they quite calmly locked
her in.

She telephoned some trivial sounding excuse to her long-suffering
friend. Every one who knew her well was accustomed to interruptions by
her school interests. And as she listened to that friend's wailing
remonstrance she was tempted to tell the truth. "Locked up in the
Russian Consulate! Prisoner! Involved in Court mystery. Obliged to
produce a Prince of the blood royal or take the