, full-bearded man, evidently a person of
refinement--went below to the saloon, and after a few moments called to
the man Wilson who was on the watch, and gave him a glass of whisky and
water, which he took up on deck to drink at his leisure.

"The unusual character of my fellow-guests on board that craft was such
that my suspicion was constantly on the alert, therefore curiosity
tempted me to creep along and peep in at the crack of the door standing
ajar. A closer view revealed the fact that the stranger was a high
Russian official to whom I had once been introduced at the Government
Palace at Helsingfors, the Privy-Councillor and Senator Paul Polovstoff.
They were smoking together, and were discussing in Russian the means by
which he, Polovstoff, had arranged to obtain plans of some new British
fortifications at Gibraltar. From what he said, it seemed that some
Russian woman, married to an Englishman, a captain in the garrison, had
been impressed into the secret service against her will, but that she
had, in order to save herself, promised to obtain the photographs and
plans that were required. I heard the Englishman's name, and I resolved
to take some steps to inform him in secret of the intentions of the
Russian agent.

"Presently the two men took fresh cigars, ascended on deck, and cast
themselves in the long cane chairs amidships. Still all curiosity to
hear further details on the ingenious piece of espionage against my own
nation, I took off my shoes and crept up to a spot where I could crouch
concealed and overhear their conversation, for the Italian night was
calm and still. They talked mainly about affairs in Finland, and with
some of Oberg's expressions of opinion Polovstoff ventured to differ.
This aroused the Baron's anger, and I knew from the cold sarcasm of his
remarks, and the peculiarly hard tone of his voice, that he was more
incensed than he outwardly showed himself to be. He rose and stood with
his back to the bulwarks facing his friend, who still sat leaning back
in his deck-chair insisting upon his own views. He was quite calm, and
not in the least perturbed by the evil glint in the Baron's eye. Perhaps
he did not know him so well as I did. He did not know what that look
meant. Suddenly, while the Privy-Councillor lay back in his chair
pulling thoughtfully at his cigar, there was a bright, blood-red flash,
a dull report, and a man's short agonized cry. Startled, I leaned around
the corner of the d