and even upon the floor, where it might have fallen.

But nowhere could he find it, and his excitement grew until it was
almost uncontrollable.

Where was that fatal document?

Again and again he went through his pockets and drawers, but all to no
purpose--the paper could not be found.

He struck a bell savagely, and a clerk came hastily from an inner room.

"Huon, has any person from your room been in here within the last few
minutes?"

"No, Excellency, no one," replied the clerk.

"Are you certain of that?"

"I am, for I am seated by the door, and I never allow anyone to enter
your Excellency's chamber unless you summon them."

"And have you seen any person here?"

"No one, Excellency."

"Will you swear to that, or shall I work the knout in order to bring out
the truth?" demanded the prince.

"I swear it by my religion."

"Down on your knees and swear!" thundered the prince, and the trembling
wretch obeyed like a true Russian slave.

"Return," added the tyrant, pointing the way, and the next instant he
was alone.

"Perdition catch me, but this is dreadful. What can have become of that
document?" he mused, as he threw himself into his chair. "Who could have
taken it? I have only one person about me who can read English, and he
is not here to-day," and again he began searching for the fatal paper.

All to no purpose, though, of course, and he finally convinced himself
that it was neither in his office nor about his person.

"Curses on my luck, for if that correspondence is found out, it means
death or Siberia to me. Could that American have regained it without my
seeing him do it? Great Scott!" he suddenly exclaimed, and hurried to
the Bastile.

The possibility of Barnwell's having secured the document did not make
the prince's case any the better. Indeed, it was probably worse, for the
captain of the Bastile may have searched him and secured it himself.

Such fears as these hurried him onward, until he reached the prison
where Barnwell was confined, and he instantly summoned the captain.

"The prisoner I sent here but now?"

"He is in a cell down below."

"Did you search him?"

"I did."

"What did you find?" he asked, anxiously.

"A passport, a quantity of money, some jewelry, and letters."

"Let me see the papers," and they were promptly shown to him. He looked
them over eagerly, but there was no trace of the fatal document from
Zobriski.

"Are these all you took from him?"

"All,