mediately that I would not reach
Russia alive. That, finally, was what decided me on coming. I am
naturally very contrary."

"And how did you get through the journey?"

"Not badly. I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned
to kill me, and I reached an understanding with him. He was a charming
youth, so it was easily arranged."

Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would have
been difficult for him to name. Matrena Petrovna laid her fat little
hand on his arm:

"You speak seriously?"

"Very seriously."

"A small glass of vodka?"

"No alcohol."

Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.

"And how did you discover him? How did you know him?"

"First, he wore glasses. All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling. And
then I had a good clew. A minute before the departure from Paris I had a
friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a reporter who would do
anything I said without even wanting to know why. I said, 'You call out
suddenly and very loud, "Hello, here is Rouletabille."' So he called,
'Hello, here is Rouletabille,' and all those who were in the corridor
turned and all those who were already in the compartments came out,
excepting the man with the glasses. Then I was sure about him."

Madame Trebassof looked at Rouletabile, who turned as red as the comb of
a rooster and was rather embarrassed at his fatuity.

"That deserves a rebuff, I know, madame, but from the moment the Emperor
of all the Russias had desired to see me I could not admit that any mere
man with glasses had not the curiosity to see what I looked like. It
was not natural. As soon as the train was off I sat down by this man and
told him who I thought he was. I was right. He removed his glasses and,
looking me straight in the eyes, said he was glad to have a little talk
with me before anything unfortunate happened. A half-hour later the
entente-cordiale was signed. I gave him to understand that I was coming
here simply on business as a reporter and that there was always time to
check me if I should be indiscreet. At the German frontier he left me to
go on, and returned tranquilly to his nitro-glycerine."

"You are a marked man also, my poor boy."

"Oh, they have not got us yet."

Matrena Petrovna coughed. That _us_ overwhelmed her. With what calmness
this boy that she had not known an hour proposed to share the dangers
of a situation that excited general pity but from which the braves