"Ach, himmel! ach, Fader Abraham! here
he is again!" cried he.

"He has come back?" bawled the landlord,
with uplifted hands and eyes, emerging from his
bar parlour.

"Mein Herr, the police are above stairs,"
whispered the waiter in awe-struck tones.

Before I could ask an explanation, two
brawny green-coated gendarmes came clattering
down the dirty wooden staircase, and, before I
could recover from my surprise, I found myself
collared, hustled, pushed up-stairs, and thrust
into my own apartment, which I found full of
policemen and other functionaries, in and out of
uniform. At a table sat a lean man in black,
pen in hand, writing away as if for his life, and
with several sheets of official foolscap before
him, as well as a portly purple-faced individual
in uniform, and with several medals and crosses
glittering on his breast. My trunks had been
burst open, my clothes lay strewed about, and
the cupboard door, as well as the precious
portmanteau, had been unscrupulously forced.
Some of those present were fumbling among my
shirts, or exploring the pockets of dress-waistcoats;
one fellow of intelligent aspect had
made free with my writing-case, and was coolly
poring over my letters with the aid of a
dictionary; another was counting out the gold
and notes in my valise, with all the dexterous
composure of the teller of a bank.

Amazement and indignation stopped my
mouth. My blood was boiling, but I could not
find words to express myself, but merely gasped
forth my anger and surprise, as I stood under
the eyes of this intrusive assemblage, fast
pinioned between the two gendarmes.

"Is that the ' suspect' himself?" asked the
portly personage in uniform, speaking in French,
which language is compulsorily familiar to all
members of the Russian tehinn, or official caste.
One of the men in black spoke in Russian to one
of the gendarmes, and then bowing deeply, said:

"Batuscha, I have the honour to report that
the 'compromised' was captured below, in an
audacious effort to return, probably with the
desperate hope of carrying off the treasure."

For a moment I fancied myself dreaming.
Then anger prevailed, and I shook off the
grasp of the gendarmes, loudly demanding of
what I was accused, and by what right they
had committed so unwarrantable a trespass on
my person and property? But I took nothing
by my motion. Three pair of strong hands
grappled me with a force beyond resistance, and
the interpreter hastily assured me that I should
be put in irons forthwith, if I failed again in the
respect due to the governor.

"I don't care a straw for all the governors
in Russia," answered I, recklessly, "and you
will live to repent, this outrage. England does
not allow her subjects to be oppressed without
exacting reparation, as you will learn." I saw
a sneer on the faces of all those who understood
French. The governor, though a fierce and
consequential looking person, laughed outright.
"That trick will not serve your purpose,
monsieur!" said he, scornfully: then, turning
to the man who had been counting the money,
he asked him what was the amount?

"One hundred and seventy-one thousand and
fifteen roubles, nine copecks, at the current rate
of exchange of six roubles thirty-one copecks per
pound sterling," was the reply.

"Write that down in the proces-verbal!" said
the governor; and the pen of the clerk flew over
the paper.

It now occurred to me that I must be the victim
of some mistake, some unlucky coincidence.
Accordingly, I stated, as calmly and coherently as I
could, my name, position in life, the errand that
took me to Russia, and my being accredited to the
widely-known firm of Druce, Gray, and Druce.

They heard me to the end, with a civil sneer
of incredulity on their faces, and then requested
proofs of the truth of my statements.

"Proof!" said I, "what proofs can l offer if you
persist in disbelieving a plain series of commonplace
facts. You have my letters before you, and
I see that one of your spies is mastering the
contents. Pray do you not find ample confirmation
there, of my assurance that I am a member of the
Inner Temple, and have no more concern with
your country than with China or Ashantee?"

The interpreter spoke in Russian to the governor,
who shook his head, and bluntly told me that
the letters were "ingeniously composed, and gave
a good colour to my assumed character, but that
I was found out. I might drop the mask. The
time for feigning was over, but I might merit the
imperial clemency by free and full confession."

I almost choked at this. However, I remembered
my passport, which I had about my person,
and I at once offered it to the governor for
inspection. This valuable document was neatly
bound in a yellow leather case, with clasps,
and the case was duly stamped in gold letters
with my name and address, Thomas Chatterton
Bainbridge, Hare-court, Temple, and with the
Chatterton crest, a goldfinch proper. As for
the pass itself, I felt sure that it would carry
conviction to the most prejudiced mind. But
what was my horror when the governor, after
slowly perusing the name on the binding, opened
the case, unfolded the rustling official paper
emblazoned with the arms of England, and read
out a request to all friendly powers to give aid
and protection to " Mr. (or Count) Demetrius
Zlisynezka, a naturalised British subject, about
to proceed to Frankfort-sur-Mein," &c.

A loud exclamation burst from all the
bystanders, and was echoed by the listening
servants along the passages of the hotel. In every
eye I could read wonder and satisfaction, mingled
with admiration of my impudence.

"Zlisynezka!" I heard them mutter, and the
gripe of the gendarmes tightened as they became
aware of the importance of their prisoner. My
passionate declarations were laughed at. I was
bluffly declared to be a Pole, and no born Briton;
my errand to Russia would warrant my lifelong
banishment to Siberia, even if past misdeeds
did not procure my condemnation. And I was
ordered off to jail to await my trial, with the