to tell me all these fine things. And your
Natacha, what do you do with her?"

"We release her also, monsieur. Natacha never has been the monster that
you think."

"How can you say that? Someone at least is guilty."

"There are two guilty. The first, Monsieur le Marechal."

"What!" cried the Marshal.

"Monsieur le Marechal, who had the imprudence to bring such dangerous
grapes to the datcha des Iles, and--and--"

"And the other?" asked Koupriane, more and more anxiously.

"Listen there," said Rouletabille, pointing toward the Emperor's
cabinet.

The sound of tears and sobs reached them. The grief and the remorse
of Matrena Petrovna passed the walls of the cabinet. Koupriane was
completely disconcerted.

Suddenly the Emperor appeared. He was in a state of exaltation such as
had never been known in him. Koupriane, dismayed, drew back.

"Monsieur," said the Tsar to him, "I require that Natacha Feodorovna
be here within the next two hours, and that she be conducted with the
honors due to her rank. Natacha is innocent, and we must make reparation
to her."

Then, turning toward Rouletabille:

"I have learned what she knows and what she owes to you--we owe to you,
my young friend."

The Tsar said "my young friend." Rouletabille, at this last moment
before his departure, spoke Russian?

"Then she knows nothing, Sire. That is better, Sire, because Your
Majesty and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know anything."

"You are right," said the Tsar thoughtfully. "But, my friend, what am I
to do for you?"

"Sire, one favor. Do not let me miss the train at 10:55."

And he threw himself on his knees.

"Remain on your knees, my friend. You are ready, thus. Monsieur le
Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately sign.
Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet, one of my St.
Anne's collars."

And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque," was created
officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him the
accolade.

"They combine the whole course of time in this country," thought
Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.

For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo
station. Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the young
reporter's hand when they learned of his impending departure were
Ivan Petrovitch, the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and Athanase
Georgevitch, the lively adv