ow nothing of the contents of this letter?"

"Nothing whatever. He told me nothing further than that it was
important, and that I must give it to no one but you."

"What are you?"

"A simple American citizen, sir."

"Do you belong to any secret society?"

"No, sir."

The prince regarded him a moment, and then turned to read more of the
letter, wondering at the same time why Zobriskie should have trusted
such a fatal document to any but a tried and trusted Nihilist.

The conclusion he arrived at was that there was treachery somewhere, or
that there was a possibility of such a contingency, and to guard himself
he resolved to put the unsuspecting stranger under arrest.

Without a word further, he touched a bell, and in an instant three
gendarmes presented themselves.

"This man is a prisoner; remove him to the castle for further
disposition," said he.

Young Barnwell started in surprise. What did it mean?

The officers approached him, when he turned to the prince.

"What is the meaning of this, sir?" he demanded indignantly.

"State prisoners are not always allowed to know State reasons."

"But I am no State prisoner; I am an American citizen, and I demand to
know why I am arrested."

"You may learn in time."

"I will appeal to the American Minister, to the Czar of Russia even."

"No, you will not. Away with him!" said the prince, determined above all
things that he should make no such an appeal or have a chance to do so.

"Do you really mean this outrage?"

"Call it what you like, but wait and see," he replied, waving him away.

The officers knew nothing but duty, and in spite of young Barnwell's
protests and struggles, he was overpowered and dragged away in the
direction of the Bastile.

Tobasco followed closely after them. What he had seen and heard
confirmed his suspicions that the prince was a traitor, and that he had
ordered Barnwell's arrest through fear.

As for Barnwell, he, of course, saw that it was an outrage of the
deepest dye, and he had no idea of submitting to it.

His American blood was up, and, knowing his own great strength, he
watched his opportunity as the guards led him from the prince's quarters
towards the Bastile. He suddenly wrenched himself away, and knocked one
of them sprawling upon the courtyard flags.

Quick as thought almost, he sent another of them toppling against the
wall of a building.

A third was on the point of firing at him with his musket, when Tobasco