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Show Be CZARS 5PY The Mystery of a SilenUove dKheva&r WILLIAM LI QIJIUX J author of-Tnr aojro dook nt- ,Wo ILLUSTRATIONS CD-RHODES MH W W W t r SYNOPSIS. 10 Gorilon Cress, dining aboard with Ilorn-sv. Ilorn-sv. tlie yai'ht 1-olu's owner, aot-idoniully a torn photograph of a young girl. ;ya night (he consul's safe is robbed, fi e police find that Hornby Is a fraud iml the Lola's name a false one. In ;A,n.Ion Gregg is trapped nearly to his .K,;h by a former servant, Olinto. Visit-ie Visit-ie in Dumfries Gregg meets Muriel i;lu'0urt. I lornby appears and Muriel -riuiiioes him as Martin Woodroffe. her iihor's friend. Gregg sees a copy of the ijn photograph .on the , Kola and finds i t the" young' girl is Muriel's friend, j AixxlroiTe disappears. Gregg discovers ! y body of a murdered woman In Run- : i wood. The body disappears and in place is found the body of Olinto. vhriel and Gregg search Rannoch wood tether, and find the body of Armida, i.into's wife. When the police go to the n-oti the body has disappeared. In Lm-Grei:g Lm-Grei:g meets Olinto, alive and well, 'ire truces the young girl of the torn :-Lih'gr;cph. and finds that she is Elma i-.ith, niece of Baron Oberg. who has Ar.cn her to Abo, Finland, and that she ,,:iif a secret affecting Woodroffe. On "j return to Rannoch Gregg finds the ihcourts Med from Hytton Chater, who iJ called there. He goes to Abo, and ,;vr a tilt with the police chief, is con-: con-: ird to the place where Klma is 1m-: 1m-: sonf d; CHAPTER XI. , The Castle of the Terror. The big Finn rowed me down the !olien river. After nearly a mile, the stream ifila opened out into a broad lake ir.ere, in the distance, I saw rising sheer and high from the water, a long Sjare building of three stories, with i tall round tower at one corner an :i medieval castle it seemed to be. f-om one of the small windows of the uoer. as we came into view of it, a :;ht was shining upon the water, and i; juide seeing it, grunted in satis-iion. satis-iion. It had undoubtedly been :!;oed there as signal. After waiting : minutes or so. he pulled straight i.ross the lake to the high, dark tower :a: descended into the water. The e was as grim and silent as any I ..i ever seen, an impregnable strong-: strong-: d of the days before siege, guns t-re Invented, the fortress of some v:ial prince or count who had prob- y held the surrounding country in i jldom. A small wooden ledge and a dozen steps led up to a low : :.td door, which opened noiselessly, :! the dark figure of a woman stood ;--rir,g forth. My guide uttered some reassuring t rd in Finnish in a low half-whisper, i d '.hen slowly pushed the boat along the ledge, saying: , "Your high nobility may disembark. T-re is at present no danger." I rose, gripped a big rusty chain to '-ady myself, and climbed into the -rrow doorway in the ponderous wall, 'ere 1 found myself in the darkness ''ie the female who had apparently -ea expecting our arrival and watch--? our signal. Without a word she led me through 1 'tort passage, and then, striking a t'h, lit a big old-fashioned lantern. !s the light fell upon her 1 recognized at she was a member of some re-rous re-rous order. The thin ascetic coun-'"-arj(e was that of a woman of "') character, ar;d her funereal i seemed much too large for her '-nted. shrunken figure. The sister speaks French?" I haz- 'd in that language, knowing that most convents throughout Europe ''-nch is known. Qui, m'sieur. I'.ut are you not afraid 1 venture here' No strangers are 'fitted here, you know. If your f'nce was discovered you would t leave this place alive so 1 warn a By admitting you 1 am betraying I trust, and that I should not have se were it not compulsory. " "Compulsory! How?" "The order of the chief of police. '"n here, we cannot afford to offend ;ti " "' So the fellow Boranski had realh faith with me, and at his order closed door of the convent bad 'n opened. rjf course not," I answered. "Rus-!-n officialdom is all-powerful in Fin-nowadays. Fin-nowadays. But where is the '-!?" You are still pre)ared to risk your 'y and life?" she asked in a hoarse "'t(f. full of grim meaning. a'n," I said. "Lead me to ber." You are on Russian soil now, !eur, cot English," she remarked ber broken English. "If your ob-"t ob-"t were known, you would never be arel to return to your own land. '"-" she sighed, "you do not know the Merles and terrors of Finland. I French subject, born in Tours, brought to Helslngfors when I was ,'"'r'- I have been in Finland forty-"e forty-"e Jears. Once we were bappy here. V --' but since the czar appointed Baron Oberg to be governor general" and she shrugged her shoulders without finishing her sentence. "Baron Oberg governor general of Finland!" 1 gasped. "Certainly. Did you not know?" she said, dropping into French. "It is four years now that 'he has held supreme su-preme power to crush and Russify these poor Finns. Ah, m'sieur! this country, once so prosperous, is a blot upon the face of Europe. His methods are the worst aud most unscrupulous of any employed by Russia. Before he came here he was the best hated man in Petersburg, and that, they say, is why the emperor sent him to us." "Where does this baron live?" I asked, surprised that he should occupy-so occupy-so high a place In Russian officialdom the representative of the zar, with powers as great as the emperor himself. him-self. "At the Government palace, in liel-singforB." liel-singforB." "And Elma Heath is here in this grim fortress! Why?" "Ah, m'sieur, how can I tell? By reason of family secrets, perhaps. They account for so much, you know." The fact that the baron was ruler of Finland amazed me, for I had half expected ex-pected him to be some clever adventurer. adven-turer. Vet as the events of the past flashed through my brain, I recollected that in Rannoch Wood had been found the miniature of the Russian Order of Saint Anne, a distinction which, in all probability, had been coijierred upon him. If so, the coincidence, to say the least, was a remarkable one. 1 questioned ques-tioned my companion further regarding regard-ing the baron. "Ah, m'sieur," she declared, "they call him 'The Strangler of the Finns.' It was he who ordered the peasants of Kasko to be flogged until four of them died and the czar gave him the Star of White Eagle for it he who suppressed sup-pressed half the newspapers and put eighteen editors in prison for publishing publish-ing a report of a meeting of the Swedes in Helsingfors; he who encourages encour-ages corruption and bribery among the officials for the furtherance of Russian interests; he who has ordered Russian Rus-sian to be the official language, who has restricted public education, who has overtaxed and ground down the people until now the mine is laid, and Finland is ready for open revolt. The prisons are filled with the innocent; women are flogged; the? poor are starving, starv-ing, and 'The Strangler,' as they call him, reports to the czar that Finland is submissive and is Russianized!" I had heard something of this abominable abom-inable state of affairs from time to time from the English press, but had never taken notice of the name of the oppressor. So the uncle of Elma Heath was "The Strangler of Finland,'' the man who, in four years, had reduced re-duced a prosperous country to a state of ruin and revolt! "Cannot I see her at once?" I asked, feeling that we had remained too long there. If my presence iu that place was perilous the sooner I escaped from it the better. "Yes, ccme," she said. "But silence! i Walk softly," and holding up the old hor'u lantern to give me light, she led me out into' the low stone corridor a?ain. conducting me through a number num-ber of intricate passages, all bare and gloomy, the stones worn hollow by tht feet of ages, into a small, square chamber, the floor of which was car-I car-I peted, and where, suspended high above, was a lamp that shed but a faint light over the barely-furnished place. Beyond was another smaller room into which the old nun disappeared disap-peared for a moment; then she came forth leading a strange wan little figure fig-ure in a gray gown, a figure whose j face was the most perfect and most I lovely I h;id ever seen. Her wealth of chestnut hair fell disheveled about her' shoulders, and as her hands were clasped before her she looked straight at me in surprise as she was led towards to-wards me. She walked but feebly, and her countenance coun-tenance was deathly pale. Her dress, as she came beneath the lamp, was. I saw, coarse, yet clean, and her beautiful beauti-ful regular features, which in her photograph had held me in such fascination, fasci-nation, were even more sweet ana more matchless than I had believed them to be. I stood before her dum-founded dum-founded in admiration. In silence she bowed gracefully, and then looked at me with astonishment, apparently wondering what I, a perfect per-fect stranger, required of her. "Miss Elma Heath, I presume?" I exclaimed at last. "My I introduce myself to you? My name is Gordon Gregg, English by birth, cosmopolitan by instinct. I have come here to ask you a question a question that concerns con-cerns myself. Lydia Moreton has sent me to you." 1 noticed that her great brown eyes watched my lips and not my face. Her own lips moved, but she looked at me with an inexpressible sadness. No sound escaped her. I stood rigid before her as one turned to stone, for in that instant, in a flash indeed, 1 realized the awful truth. She was both deaf and dumb! She raised her clasped hands to me in silence, yet with tears welling in her splendid eyes. I saw that upon her wrists were a pair of bright steel gyves. "What is this place?" 1 demanded of the woman in the religious habit, when I recovered from the shock of the poor girl's terrible affliction. "Where am 1?" "This is the Castle of Kajana the criminal lunatic asylum of Finland," was her, answer. "The prisoner, as you see, has lost both speech and hearing." "Deaf and dumb!" I cried, looking at the beautiful original of that destroyed photograph on board the Lola. "But she has not always been so!" , "No. I think not always," replied the sister quietly. "But she can write responses to my questions?" "Alas! no," was the old woman's whispered reply. "Her mind is affected. affect-ed. She is, unfortunately, a hopeless lunatic." I looked straight into those sad, wide-open, yet unflinching brown eyes utterly confounded. Those white wrists held in steel, that pale face and blanched lips, the inertness of her movements, all told their own tragic tale. And yet that letter I had read, dictated in secret most probably because her hands were not .free, was certainly not the out- ;":X'";X.: "-'- 5'v "- -"'""No. 1 mm I- jifSp M? ('' 11 JL She Railed Her Clasped Hands to Me in Silence. pourings of a madwoman. She had spoken of death, it was true, yet was it not to be supposed that she was slowly being driven to suicide? She had kept her secret, and she wished the man Hornby the, man w ho was to marry Muriel Leithcourt to know. The room in which we stood was evidently evi-dently an apartment set apart for her use, for beyond was the tiny bedchamber; bedcham-ber; yet the small, high-up window-was window-was closely barred, and the cold bareness bare-ness of the prison was sufficient indeed in-deed to cause anyone confined there to prefer death to captivity. Again I spoke to her slowly and kindly, but there was no response. That she was absolutely dumb was only too apparent. Yet surely she had not always been so! I had gone in search of her because the beauty of her portrait had magnetized me, and I had now found her to be even more lovely than her picture, yet, alas! suffering suf-fering from an affliction that rendered her life a tragedy. The realization of the terrible truth staggered me. Such a perfect face as hers I had never before set eyes upon, so beautiful, so clear-cut, so refined, so eminently the countenance of one well-born, and yet so ineffably sad, so full of blank unutterable un-utterable despair. She placed her clasped hands to her mouth and made signs by shaking her head that she could neither understand under-stand nor respond. I took my wallet from my pocket and wrote upon a piece of paper in a large hand the words: "I come from Lydia Moreton. My name is Gordon Gregg." When her eager gaze fell upon the words she became instantly filled with excitement, and nodded quickly. Then holding her steel-clasped wriBts towards to-wards me she looked wistfully at me, as though imploring me to release her from the awful bondage in that silent tomb. Though the woman who had led me there endeavored to prevent it, I handed hand-ed her the pencil, and placed the paper on the table for her to write. The nun tried to snatch it up, but 1 held her arm gently and forcibly, saying say-ing in French : "No. 1 wish to see if she is really insane. You will at least allow me this satisfaction." And while we were in altercation, Elma, with the pencil in her fingers, tried to write, but by reason of her hands being bound so closely was unable. un-able. At length, however, after several sev-eral attempts, she succeeded in printing print-ing in uneven capitals the response: "I know you. You were on the yacht. I thought they killed you." The thin-faced old woman saw her response a reply that was surely rational ra-tional enough and her brows contracted con-tracted with displeasure. "Why are you here?" I wrote, not allowing the sister to get sight of my question. In response, she wrote painfully and laboriously: "I am condemned for a crime 1 did not commit. Take me from here, or I shall kill myself." "Ah!" exclaimed the old woman. "Y'ou see, poor girl, she believes herself her-self innocent! They all do." "But why is she here?" I demanded fiercely. "I do not know, m'sieur. It is not my duty to inquire the history of their crimes. When they are ill I nurse them; that is all." "And who is the commandant of this fortress?" ' Colonel Smirnoff. If he knew that I had admitted you, you would never leave this place alive. This is the Schusselburg of Finland the place' of imprisonment for those who have conspired con-spired against the state." "The prison of political conspirators, eh?" "Alas, m'sieur, yes! The place in which some of the poor creatures are tortured in order to obtain confessions and Information with as much cruelty as in the black days of the Inquisition. These walls are thick, and' their cries are not heard from the oubliettes be: low the lake." I had long ago heard of the horrors of Schusselburg. Indeed who has not heard of them who has traveled in Russia? The very mention of the modern bastile on Lake Ladoga, where no prisoner has ever been known to come forth alive, is sufficient to cause any Russian to turn pale. And I was in the Schusselburg of Finland! 1 turned over the sheet of paper and wrote the question: "Did Baron Oberg send you here?" In response, she printed the words: "I believe so. I was arrested in Hel singfors. Tell Lydia where I am." "Do you know Muriel Leithcourt?" I inquired by the same means, whereupon where-upon she replied that they were at school together. "Did you see me on board the Lola?" I wrote. . "Y'es. But I could not warn youi although al-though I had overheard their intentions. inten-tions. They took me ashore when you had gone, to Siena. After three days 1 found myself deaf and dumb I was made so." "Who did it?" "A doctor, I suppose. People who said they were my friends put me under un-der chloroform." I turned to the woman in the religious re-ligious habit, and cried: "A shameful mutilation has been committed upon this poor defenseless girl! And I will make it my duty to discover and punish pun-ish the perpetrators of it." "Ah, m'sieur. Do not act rashly, 1 pray of you," the woman said seriously, serious-ly, placing her hand upon my arm. "Recollect you are in Finland where the Baron Oberg is all-powerful." "I do not fear the Baron Oberg," I exclaimed. "If necessary, I will ap peal to the czar himself. Mademoiselle is kept here for the reason that she is in possession of some secret. She must be released I will take the responsibility." responsi-bility." "But you must not try to release her from here. It would mean death to you both. The Castle of Kajana tells no secrets of those who die within its walls, or of those cast headlong into its waters and forgotten." Again I turned to Elma, who stood in anxious wonder of the subject of our conversation, and had suddenly taken the old nun's hand and kissed it affectionately, perhaps in order to show me that she trusted her. Then upon the paper 1 wrote: "Is the Baron Oberg your uncle?" She shook her head in the negative, showing that the dreaded governor general of Finland had only acted a part towards her in which she had been compelled to concur. "Who is Philip Hornby?" I inquired, writing rapidly. "My friend at least, I believe so." Friend! And I had all along believed be-lieved him to be an adventurer and an enemy! "Why did you go to Leghorn?" 1 ashed. "For a Becret purpose. There was a plot to kill you, only I managed to thwart them," were the words she printed with much labor. "Then I owe my life to you," I wrote. "And In return I will do my ut most to rebcue you from here, if yoa do not fear to place yourself In my hands." ' And to Ibis she replied: "I shall be thankful, for I cannot bear this awfuj place longer. I believe they must torture tor-ture the women here. They will torture tor-ture me some day. Do your best to get me out of here and I will tell you everything. But," she wrote, "I fear you can never secure my release. I am confined here on a life sentence." "But you are English, and if you have had no trial I can complain to our ambassador." "No, I am a Russian subject. I was born in Russia, and went to England when I was a girl." That altered the case entirely. As a subject of the czar in her own country she was amenable to that disgraceful blot upon civilization that allows a person to be consigned to prison at tbo will of a high official, without trial or without being afforded any opportunity of appeal. I therefore at once saw a difficulty. Yet she promised to tell me the truth if I could but secure her release! Could I allow this refined defenseless defense-less girl to remain an inmate of that bastile, the terrors of which I had heard men In Russia hint at with bated breath? They had willfully maimed her and deprived her of both hearing and the power of speech, aod now they inteBded that she should be driven mad by that silence and loneliness lone-liness that must always end In insanity. "I have decided," I said suddenly, turning to the woman who had conducted con-ducted me there, and having now removed re-moved the steel bonds of the prisoner with a key she secretly carried, Btood with folded hands in the cairn attitude of the religieuse. "You will not act with rashness?" she implored in quick apprehension. "Remember, ycur life is at stake, as well as my own." "Her enemies intended that I, too, should die!' I answered, looking .straight into those deep mysterious brown eyes which held me as beneath a spell. "They have drawn her into their power because she had no means of oefense. The man is awaiting me in the boat outside. I intend to take her with me." "But, m'sieur, why that' is impossible!" impos-sible!" cried the old woman in a hoarse voice. "If you were discovered by the guards who patrol the lake both-night both-night and day they would shoot you both." "I will risk it," I said, and linking my arm in that of the woman whose lovely countenance had verily become the sun of my existence, I made a sign, inviting her to accompany me. The sister barred the door, urging me to reconsider my decision, but I waved her aside. Elma recognized my intentions in a moment, and allowed herself to be conducted con-ducted down the long intricate corridor, corri-dor, walking stealthily, and as we crept along on tiptoe I felt the girl's grip upon my arm, a grip that told me that she placed her faith in me as her deliverer. Without a sound we crept forward until within a few yards from that unlocked un-locked door where the boat awaited us below, when, of a sudden, the uncertain uncer-tain fight of the lantern fell upon something that shone and a deep voice cried out of the darkness in Russian: "Halt! or I fire!" And, startled, we found ourselves looking down the muzzle of a loaded carbine. A huge sentry stood with his back to the secret exit, his dark eyes shining beneath his peaked cap, as he held his weapon to his shoulder wilhiu six feet of us. "Speak!" cried the fellow. "Who are you?" At a glance I took in the peril of the situation, and without a second's hesitation hesi-tation made a dive for the man beneath be-neath his weapon.- He lowered it, but it was too late, for I gripped him around the waist, rendering his gun useless. It was the work of an instant, in-stant, for I knew that to close with him was my only chance. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |