Great was his delight when he produced the following result,--

. 6 . 42 . 50. 37 . 97 . 39 . 65 . 21 .

? ? ? ? ? a ? ?

Nicholas, the name of the reigning Czar!

Proceeding in the same fashion, Paul found that the numbers following those which stood for Nicholas yielded the intelligible word ???a??eta?, "a.s.sents."

"To what does Nicholas a.s.sent?" murmured Paul.

"Let me endeavor to ascertain, since it is quite clear that the key to the cipher is now in my hands."

Obviously his best course would be to go through the "Eumenides"

first, marking, say, every tenth letter with its proper consecutive number. This done, the work of decipherment would take but a few minutes.

Paul started on this most monotonous task,--a task that occupied him more than four hours, from the necessity imposed upon him of verifying his enumeration from time to time, for a single error in his calculation would have confused the whole issue. And when at last his copy of the "Eumenides" lay ready figured for use, the misgiving seized him that perhaps, after all, his labor had been in vain.

"Various readings occur in the ma.n.u.scripts of the 'Eumenides,'" he muttered. "If the writer of this despatch has used a different edition from mine,--_Dindorf, Lips._ 1827,--well, then, lack-a-day!"

Fortunately, however, the result falsified his misgiving.

Once during his calculations the eager Zabern had entered the apartment with the question, "What progress?"

"Return in two hours, and you shall have the solution."

And the marshal had withdrawn, somewhat doubtful of Paul's ability to make good his promise.

However, before the expiration of the two hours Paul had mastered the contents of the doc.u.ment. It was written in Greek, and, as the marshal's knowledge of that language was extremely limited, Paul spent some time in endeavoring to produce a faithful translation. And his rendering was as follows,--

_Nicholas a.s.sents. So proceed quickly. Risk of discovery in transmitting doc.u.ment. Therefore burn as soon as seized.

When done, report matter. Envoy will follow to demand production._

_Lipski's measure approved. Money shall be forwarded by usual route. Let him bribe freely. The success of his bill Russia's justification. Impossible, then, for Europe to oppose annexation.--ORLOFF._

The signature seemed to show that the letter came from the governor-general of Warsaw, the knouter of Katina, but there was nothing to indicate the person for whom it was intended. Paul had little doubt as to the correctness of his decipherment, though the meaning was far from clear to him.

Zabern would doubtless be able to understand the allusions, and if the marshal should not soon make his appearance Paul was resolved to go in quest of him.

The night was now far advanced, and, having been at work several hours in a close chamber, Paul was beginning to feel somewhat languid. He therefore walked forward and opened a cas.e.m.e.nt to gain a breath of the fresher air without.

It was dark and cloudy, and as he stood looking forth a mournful wind dashed rain-drops into his face.

The part of the palace in which this apartment was situated formed the extremity of an architectural wing, which was fronted at the distance of about a hundred feet by a second wing equal in length to the first and parallel with it. These two wings formed with the main structure the three sides of a court.

As he casually turned his eyes upon the opposite wing, at the point where it formed an angle with the main building, Paul thought he detected a movement on the part of somebody or something about half-way between the roof and the ground. Straining his eyes to the utmost, he became convinced that what he saw dimly outlined against the gray wall was the figure of a man poised in mid-air; for as Paul could detect no ladder beneath him, he could only come to the conclusion that the fellow was suspended by a rope.

The man made no attempt to ascend or descend, but continued in the one position; and as far as Paul could discern in the darkness his arm was moving to and fro with horizontal motion.

Now just at the place where this man hung there was, as Paul had observed earlier in the evening, a small window, a window crossed by iron bars.

A grated window in a palace suggests the idea that the room thus secured is used for the preservation of things valuable; at any rate this was Paul's idea. He believed that the fellow was quietly removing the iron bars with the view of procuring whatever it was that lay behind them.

It was an extremely hazardous enterprise. True, the man was favored by the darkness, and by the noise of wind and rain, but at any moment he was liable to be surprised by the night-watch going its rounds, either in the courtyard below or on the roof above.

Two sentinels paced the very battlements overlooking this court.

Earlier in the evening Paul had heard their footsteps overhead and their challenges. Were they asleep? If not, they must be keeping a very lax watch to permit this man to perform such work under their very eyes.

Then the truth flashed upon Paul. The man himself was a soldier, one of the two appointed to patrol this particular part of the roof. The other was his confederate. Both were engaged in some nefarious work.

Treason was afoot in the palace!

Rejecting his first impulse, which was to steal quietly downstairs and summon the guard, Paul resolved to tackle the two single-handed. As there was no staircase from his room to the roof, he determined to mount to the battlements by means of a water-pipe adjacent to his window.

Thrusting a loaded pistol within his breast, he stepped out upon the window-sill, and pulling himself up by the water-pipe silently and quickly, he clambered over the battlements without detection. Keeping within an embrasure, he peered out along the roof. There, a few yards distant, outlined against the sky, was the tall, cloaked figure of a sentinel leaning upon his rifle and with his eyes turned towards the grated window.

Paul, glancing in the same direction, could no longer see the man hanging in mid-air. A faint glow of light stole through the mysterious window. Hence Paul concluded that the fellow was now within the chamber occupied upon the matter that had brought him there.

Stealing noiselessly forward, Paul suddenly clapped his hand upon the sentinel's shoulder, and, pointing to the grated window he cried,--

"Do you intend to arrest that villain, or are you his confederate?"

The sentinel instantly turned, with confusion and guilt written upon his face. Misled by the uniform, he took Paul for a Czernovese officer, and as such he was one that must be silenced at all costs, for it was death to be caught thus in the act of treason.

Lowering his bayonetted rifle to the charge, he made a thrust at Paul's body. But Paul, on the watch for this movement, sprang aside, wrested the rifle away, and clubbing it, dealt the fellow a fearful blow on the head. The sentinel staggered back and dropped to the pavement, where he lay senseless and still.

Peering over the battlements to learn whether this action on his part had been observed, Paul was surprised to see a blue light at the chamber-window. The man was flashing a lantern to and fro, an action that lasted for a few seconds.

Recovering from his surprise, Paul sped onward, and reached the battlement to which the rope was attached.

Kneeling within an embrasure and glancing downwards, he perceived a faint cloud of smoke proceeding from the window.

What was taking place within? Was the fellow setting fire to this part of the palace?

It was not in Paul's nature to remain inactive while evil was in progress. He instantly resolved to descend to the chamber for the purpose of putting a stop to what he could not doubt was nefarious work. Grasping the rope with both hands, he swung himself downwards, not neglecting, however, at the same time to keep an eye upon the window. As soon as his feet touched the sill he drew forth his pistol, and without pausing to notice what was happening within the room, without a glance, even, he sent his feet through the s.p.a.ce between the bars, a s.p.a.ce barely sufficient to admit the pa.s.sage of his body.

The room was in darkness,--this much he was conscious of as he shot forward, and a smell as of smoke hung in the air. Paul fell supine upon the stone flooring, but he was up again in an instant, endeavoring to ascertain through the gloom what strange thing had happened or was happening.

His attention was immediately arrested by a strange voice,--a voice lowered to a whisper that was full of guilty terror.

"Is that you, Peter? What has brought you down? In G.o.d's name make no noise. Gabor is on guard in the corridor outside."

"Then let Gabor enter," shouted Paul in a voice of thunder. "Ho!

without there! Gabor, Gabor, whoever you may be, here is a prisoner for you."

Directed by the voice, Paul rushed forward through the darkness, and with his left hand he clutched the fellow by the throat, intending to reduce him to submission by pressing the barrel of the pistol to his forehead. The uplifting of the fellow's arm sent the weapon flying from Paul's hand, and next moment the two men were grappling savagely together.

The soldier, for Paul could tell that he was such by the feel of his uniform, was a powerful fellow, and desperation had now doubled his strength. He knew that the chamber-door was strong, and that the key was not in the hands of the sentinels outside; if he could overcome this present antagonist in the interval that must elapse before the key could be procured, there was a possibility of his escaping. He wrestled, therefore, with all the fury of a wild beast.