ing him cordially by the hand.

"Thank you," and they parted, Barnwell thrusting the envelope into his
breast-pocket.

He returned to his waiting friends and apologized for his protracted
absence.

"Do you know that man, Billy?" asked one of his friends.

"Well, not particularly. He wanted me to deliver a letter for him,
that's all."

"Well, keep an eye on yourself."

"What for?"

"That man is an exiled Nihilist, and there may be danger in what you are
doing," said he.

"Oh, I guess not. It is only to deliver a letter to a certain man in St.
Petersburg," replied Barnwell, carelessly.

"Well, in these times, anything that is connected in the remotest way
with the city of the Czar is suspicious. Have an eye to yourself,
Billy," he added again.

"Oh, never fear. I shall at least do that. But come, I have some good
cheer waiting for you in my cabin. Friends, follow me," said he, leading
the way through the crowd to the cabin stairway.

And there they gathered to receive his cheer, and to wish him all the
fortune and good luck that could wait on mortal man.

But while all this was going on there was a pair of small black eyes
fastened upon him, as his own shadow might cling to him--fastened from
the moment Paul Zobriskie drew him aside to converse.

Those eyes belonged to one Tobasco, a Russian detective, stationed in
New York, and he knew his business thoroughly, having been intrusted
with the duty of watching the Nihilists who were fermenting plans
against the empire on this side of the Atlantic.

He had overheard but little that had passed between Paul Zobriskie and
the unsuspicious young American, but while his eyes appeared directed in
some other way, he saw the well-known Russian Nihilist deliver him a
parcel, knowing him to be going to St. Petersburg (for this much he had
overheard), and it at once became his duty to shadow this young man and
ascertain the nature of his mission, even though he did not know it
himself.

So he at once took measures to provide himself with a passage, and going
on shore, he purchased a few necessaries which he had not time to get
from his lodgings, and he wrote a letter to his landlord, informing him
of his unexpected departure, together with instructions regarding his
personal effects.

Only a few moments after his return to the steamer's deck, the cry "All
ashore!" was heard, and young Barnwell came on deck with his companions
to take a final leave of them, as doze