ed to
see my relations, they simply showed me two graves. Irene and Alex
rested side by side, in the silent acre, and an exile told me _how_ they
had died! Alex had been knouted for refusing to play the part of Judas,
and had passed away in the fortress. Irene was found dead inside their
small wooden hut, kneeling beside her bed. Her heart had broken! My
little Snow Flower had been crushed under the iron heel of despotism.

"He by whose mandate this iniquity was done was General Loris Trakoff,
the governor of the province! I was turned to stone by Irene's grave,
and afterwards became a partisan of the Nihilists.

"Night and day I pondered upon how I could be revenged upon Trakoff, and
at last Fate seemed to favour me.

"The general (so it was reported) was coming to visit a former friend of
his. I made up my mind to be there also, and to shoot him, if
opportunity served.

"So, two members of our society, a young mechanic and his wife, rented a
house in Cherry-Tree Avenue, to which I came, and whilst waiting for my
revenge I became acquainted with you."

She paused, whispered, "The restorative," and I gave her the medicine.

The sweet, faint voice spoke again.

"I knew that you were Irene's friend because I saw your name upon the
letter that I picked up, and I loved you, Gloria, aye, and was sorry for
you."

I laid my cheek next hers.

"Dear, I knew it, and was fond of you."

"Fond of the Nihilist Princess, my little English Gloria! 'Tis a strange
world!

"After all, the general did not come, and then we all left. I bided my
time. No outsider knew me for a _Revolutionnaire_, so I mixed in society
as before, and accepted the invitation to Whichello, on purpose to meet
him here.

"The bonbonniere was filled with poisoned caramels, prepared by a
Nihilist chemist, and it was my intention to destroy myself after I had
destroyed my enemy. I gave him one chance; I asked him if he repented of
anything, and he answered 'No.'

"At the great crisis your little hand, as a hand from another world--as
Irene's hand might have done--came between us.

"Your coming saved him. I could not let you share his fate."

"Oh, thank God!" I said. "Nadine, tell me--tell God, that you are sorry,
that you repent your dreadful purpose."

"I do, I do," she whispered. "Lying here I see all the sins, the errors,
the mistakes. I do not despair of God's mercy though I am myself
deserving of His wrath. Irene used to tell me that when sh