e bomb-maker's bench. "He is a chemist, and being an Anarchist,
came to us, and joined us in the Revolution. The petards thrown over the
barricades to-day were of his make, but he had to fly. He left
yesterday."

"For Paris?"

"Ah! how can I tell? The Cossacks may have caught and killed him. He may
be dead," she added hoarsely.

"Which direction has he taken?"

"He was compelled to leave hurriedly at midnight. He came, kissed me,
and gave me this," she said, still holding the shining little bomb in
her small white hand. "He said he intended, if possible, to get over
the hills to the frontier at Satanow."

I saw that she was deeply in love with the fugitive, whoever he might
be.

Outside, the awful massacre was in progress we knew, but no sound of it
reached us down in that rock-hewn tomb.

The yellow lamp-light fell upon her sweet, dimpled face, but when she
turned her splendid eyes to mine I saw that in them was a look of
anxiety and terror inexpressible.

I inquired of her father and mother, for she was of a superior class, as
I had, from the first moment, detected. She spoke French extremely well,
and we had dropped into that language as being easier for me than
Russian.

"What can it matter to you, sir, a stranger?" she sighed.

"But I am interested in you, mademoiselle," I answered. "Had I not been,
I should not have fired that shot."

"Ah yes!" she cried quickly. "I am an ingrate! You saved my life;" and
again she seized both my hands and kissed them.

"Hark!" I cried, startled. "What's that?" for I distinctly heard a sound
of cracking wood.

The next moment men's gruff voices reached us from above.

"The Cossacks!" she screamed. "They have found us--they have found us!"
and the light died out of her beautiful countenance.

In her trembling hand she held the terrible little engine of
destruction.

With a quick movement I gripped her wrist, urging her to refrain until
all hope was abandoned, and together we stood facing the soldiers as
they descended the stairs to where we were. They were, it seems,
searching every house.

"Ah!" they cried, "a good hiding-place this! But the wall was hollow,
and revealed the door."

"Well, my pretty!" exclaimed a big leering Cossack, chucking the
trembling girl beneath the chin.

"Hold!" I commanded the half-dozen men who now stood before us, their
swords red with the life-blood of the Revolution. But before I could
utter further word the poor girl was wr