strolled off down the platform, glancing into the
carriages of the newly-arrived train as I passed in search of the
Czar's messenger.

I did not anticipate that any harm could have happened to him so soon
after leaving Petersburg. The object of the conspirators would be
defeated if Nicholas II. learned of any accident to his messenger in
time to send another despatch. It was more likely, at least so I
argued, that the Princess Y---- would accompany her victim across
Siberia, gradually worming her way into his confidence, and that only
at the last moment would she show her hand.

It was with a slight start that I encountered the face of the fair
emissary of M. Petrovitch, as she came to the door of her sleeping
compartment and looked out.

I was delighted to observe that this time she did not suspect me. In
fact, she evidently mistook me for one of the ordinary station
officials, for she gave me a haughty command:

"Go and see if there is a telegram for the Princess Y----."

Making a respectful salute I hastened off in the direction of the
telegraph office. On the way I interrupted a man in uniform carrying
an envelope in his hand.

"For the Princess Y----?" I demanded.

The man scowled at me and made as if to conceal the telegram. I saw
that it was a case for a tip and handed him a ruble note, on which he
promptly parted with his trust.

I turned around, and as soon as the messenger had moved off, I tore
open the envelope and read the message. Fortunately, it was not in
cipher, the rules against any such use of the wires, except by the
Government, being too strict.

This is what I read:

"Our friend, who is now an inspector, will join you at
Moscow. Look out for him. He has left his luggage with us,
but does not know it."

Accident, which had hitherto opposed my designs, was favoring them at
last. It was clear that Rostoy had betrayed me, and that Petrovitch
had sent this wire to the Princess to put her on her guard. But what
was the "luggage" which I was described as having left in the hands
of M. Petrovitch?

I thought I knew.

Crumpling up the tell-tale message in my pocket, I darted into the
telegraph office, and beckoned to the clerk in charge.

"On his majesty's secret service," I breathed in his ear, drawing him
on one side. I showed him my police badge, and added, "An envelope
and telegram form, quick!"

Overwhelmed by my imperative manner, he handed me the required
articles