uty to perform, and it will soon be
finished."

Of course both were busy with their preparations for departure, and she
paid but little attention to what he said, as it was upon a subject she
knew nothing of, and yet her woman's wit and insight told her that her
lover was engaged in something of a mysterious nature, and she hailed
with delight the prospect of getting out of Germany and back to America.

The following day the whole world was startled and monarchs trembled at
a dynamite explosion in St. Petersburg.

The Czar Alexander was riding along in a carriage, closely guarded by
soldiers and mounted police, when, without an instant's warning, a
cartridge exploded directly under his carriage, killing everybody and
everything within a radius of fifty yards, producing the greatest havoc
and devastation.

"Quick--the czar!" cried those who had escaped the terrible explosion.

And a rush was made to the scene of the wreck, where lay mangled horses
and human beings, and out of that chaos of desolation they dragged the
mangled body of the Czar of all the Russias!

Panic and consternation seized St. Petersburg, seized all Russia--the
whole world, in fact.

Instant search was made for those who perpetrated the terrible deed.

One or two suspected individuals were put to the sword without judge or
jury, yet they were innocent of the deed.

Detectives and secret service officers took possession of the spot and
examined everything--every shovelful of snow even.

Out of the ruin wrought by the terrific explosion one of the officers
pulled a small metal plate, crooked and bent by the concussion.

The dead emperor had been borne tenderly to the palace, and all Russia
was in tears, either of joy or sorrow.

The officers read an inscription on the plate they had found.

It was graven deep and clear in pure Russian. It read:

"The spirit of Peter Batavsky, raging for revenge, calls for the Czar,
the son of his murderer! Long live the Russian people!"

That was all, but it amazed those who read it, for it bore the same name
that had so terrified the Czar on another occasion.

Never before had such a shock been given to the world, not even the
assassination of Julius Caesar was a comparison to it.

But while the excitement was at its burning height, William Barnwell and
his affianced left Berlin for London.

"Batavsky, you are terribly avenged!" said he, as they sped from German
soil.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *