safe--do you get me?"

"It's hellish!" said Malcolm between his teeth. "They must be devils."

"Oh, no, they're not," said Cherry Bim. "I've got nothing on the
Soviets. I bet the fellow that invented that way of torturing the old
man thinks he's done a grand bit of work. Say, suppose you turned a lot
of kids loose to govern the United States, why Broadway would be all
cluttered up with dead nursery maids and murdered governesses. That's
what's happening in Russia. They don't mean any harm. They're doing all
they know to govern, only they don't know much--take no notice of his
reverence, he always gets like this round about meal times."

The voice of the black-coated priest grew louder. He stood before the
barred window, crossing himself incessantly.

"It is the celebration of the Divine Mystery," said Malinkoff in a low
voice, and removed his cap.

"For our holy fathers the high priests Basil the Great, Gregory the
Divine, Nicholas of Myra in Lycia, for Peter and Alexis and Jonas, and
all holy high priests," groaned the man, "for the holy wonder workers,
the disinterested Cosmas and Damiauns, Cyrus and John, Pantaleon and
Hermolaus, and all unmercenary saints...!

"By the intercession of these, look down upon us, O God!"

He walked back to his seat and, taking compassion upon this man with a
white, drawn face, Malcolm went to him.

"Little father," he said, "is there anything we can do for you?"

He produced his cigarette case, but the pope shook his head.

"There is nothing, my son" he replied in a weary voice, which he did
not raise above one monotonous tone, "unless you can find the means of
bringing Boolba to this cell. Oh, for an hour of the old life!" He
raised his hand and his voice at the same moment, and the colour came to
his cheeks. "I would take this Boolba," he said, "as holy Ivan took the
traitors before the Kremlin, and first I would pour boiling hot water
upon him and then ice cold water, and then I would flay him, suspending
him by the ankles; then before he was dead I would cut him in four
pieces----"

"Phew!" said Malcolm, and walked away.

"Did you expect to find a penitent soul?" asked Malinkoff dryly. "My
dear fellow, there is very little difference between the Russian of
to-day and the Russian of twelve months ago, with this exception, that
the men who had it easy are now having it hard, and those who had to
work and to be judged are now the judges."

Malcolm said nothing. He went