Bim
wiped his forehead.

"Three this morning," he said unsteadily. "Anyway, it's better than
hanging."

There was a long pause, and then:

"Say," he said, "I'm sorry I said I was glad that guy was going."

Malcolm understood.

The day brought Irene at the same hour as on the previous afternoon. She
looked around for the priest, and apparently understood, for she made no
reference to the missing man.

"If you can get away from here," she said, "go to Preopojenski. That is
a village a few versts from here. I tell you this, but----"

She did not complete her sentence, but Malcolm could guess from the
hopeless despair in her voice.

"Excuse me, miss," interrupted Cherry Bim. "Ain't there any way of
getting a gun for a man? Any old kind of gun," he said urgently; "Colt,
Smith-Wesson, Browning, Mauser--I can handle 'em all--but Colt
preferred."

She shook her head sadly.

"It is impossible," she said. "I am searched every time I come in
through the lodge."

"In a pie," urged Cherry. "I've read in stories how you can get these
things in a pie. Couldn't you make----"

"It's quite impossible," she said. "Even bread is cut into four pieces.
That is done in the lodge."

Cherry Bim cast envious eyes on the tall guard at the doorway. He had a
long revolver.

"I'll bet," said Cherry bitterly, "he don't know any more about a gun
than a school-marm. Why, he couldn't hit a house unless he was inside of
it."

"I must go now," said the girl hastily.

"Tell me one thing," said Malcolm. "You spoke yesterday of having one
friend. Is that friend Israel Kensky?"

"Hush!" she said.

She took his hand in both of hers.

"Good-bye, Mr. Hay," she said. "I may not come to-morrow."

Her voice was hard and strained, and she seemed anxious to end the
interview.

"Boolba told me this morning," she went on, speaking rapidly but little
above a whisper, "that he had----certain plans about me. Good-bye, Mr.
Hay!"

This time she shook hands with Malinkoff.

"Don't forget the village of Preopojensky," she repeated. "There is only
the slightest chance, but if God is merciful and you reach the outside
world, you will find the house of Ivan Petroff--please remember that."
And in a minute she was gone.

"I wonder what was wrong," said Malcolm. "She was not so frightened
when she came in, then she changed as though----"

Looking round he had seen, only for the fraction of a second, a hand
through the grating over the bench. So