"

"Who was it?"

"Prince Mastowix."

"Mastowix!" exclaimed Batavsky, and this time he tottered to his feet.

He was trembling violently, and his eyes, before half closed, were now
wide open and glaring at Barnwell strangely.

"Prince Mastowix, did you say?"

"Yes, sir; the governor of the Bastile."

"Executed, did you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"Heaven be praised!" cried the old man, falling heavily upon his couch.

Barnwell watched him in surprise for two or three minutes, and then he
spoke:

"Did you know him, sir?"

"Know him! Do my thirty-five years of exile, slavery, despair, know him?
Yes, it was his treachery that consigned me here, and he was rewarded by
Alexander with a title for his work. Oh, do I know him? And he is dead?
Tell me all about it--he was executed--stay a moment. What is your
name?" he asked excitedly.

"William Barnwell, sir."

"Good; now tell me all about it."

"It is a long story, sir."

"Give me every word of it, boy--every word!"

He seemed indeed like a maniac now, and under some circumstances
Barnwell would have been afraid of him.

But it seemed the news he had brought had given him a favorable footing
in the old man's estimation.

So he began with the story, first with his meeting Zobriskie on the
steamer, and so on until he was landed in Siberia.

Batavsky listened with the utmost attention, and at points showed much
excitement, trembling violently and scarcely able to restrain himself.

"And the villain Mastowix had become a Nihilist?" said he.

"It would seem so, sir."

"Then he did it to betray the society, provided he could not rise higher
with it."

"Very likely, sir."

"Oh, I know him well! Oh, he was a very fiend! But he is dead?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my son, this barren waste, those deep-down mines yonder have been
peopled by his victims. Aye, the very wolves have gnawed the bones of
his victims until they have come to know him as a benefactor, I'll dare
be sworn. But he is dead--he has been executed! Thank Heaven!" and with
another wild laugh he sank upon his couch and buried his face in the
straw.

Barnwell stood gazing at him with awe and wonder.

"What a terrible history must be his," he thought, as he regarded him.

It was some moments before the old man regained sufficient composure to
command himself.

Barnwell could say nothing, and so he waited for the old man to resume.

Presently, with a sigh, he roused himself and sat upright on his couc