and it at once became his duty to shadow this young man andascertain the nature of his mission, even though he did not know ithimself.
So he at once took measures to provide himself with a passage, and goingon shore, he purchased a few necessaries which he had not time to getfrom his lodgings, and he wrote a letter to his landlord, informing himof his unexpected departure, together with instructions regarding hispersonal effects.
Only a few moments after his return to the steamer's deck, the cry "Allashore!" was heard, and young Barnwell came on deck with his companionsto take a final leave of them, as dozens of others were doing with thegroups of friends surrounding them.
It is at such a time as this that the feelings of friendship come outthe strongest.
Those who have taken passage, even on ever so large and staunch a ship,seem like ants on a piece of driftwood, especially when the number ofshipwrecks is considered, and that among the first-class steamships; andwhen friend parts with friend each understands the danger anduncertainty of ever meeting again, and consequently the partings aremore pathetic, the handshakes more intense, embraces more fervent andsensational than they would be under other circumstances.
But those embraces were exchanged, those earnest handshakes indulged in,and everybody not going to Europe was ordered ashore. What partings,what expectations!
The gang-plank is finally drawn ashore, the last lines loosened fromcleats and spiles, the engineer's bell rings, and the black hull of theBaltic moves slowly from her pier.
Friends on the dock give cheers to those on board, and they, in return,wave their handkerchiefs, kiss their hands--aye, from the cabin to thesteerage-passengers, and the forecastle (those not employed), all wafttheir good-by greetings to those who are left behind, not knowingwhether they may be the more fortunate or not.
William Barnwell stood on the after-deck waving his hat to the friendshe had just parted with, and in spite of the dangers of the deep, ofwhich he never thought, wondering how long it would be before they wouldmeet again.
The secret police agent stood near the main-hatch, and watched himnarrowly.
Darkness was just closing in when the gallant steamer, with her nosepointed to the southeast, passed the Sandy Hook light, and began to layher course towards England.
CHAPTER II.
THE SPY AND THE VICTIM.
The noble steamer Baltic plowed her way through the buffeting bosoms ofthe blue Atlantic oceanward.
There was no land, in sight, there was no moon to light the waves, buttheir own phosphorescence made the bounding billows visible to those whocame on deck. The sky above was clear, and the stars twinkled in theblue above like diamonds in sapphire setting.
There were a goodly number of passengers on deck, both cabin andsteerage, and the hum of voices could be heard above the "clang-clang"of the engines, the "whurr" of the propeller, and the long lines of foamwhich shot away to larboard and starboard like streaks of silver gavefood for reflection and conversation.
Billy Barnwell was on deck, and in a very short time a conversationsprang up between him and an aged gentleman, by whose side sat a younglady with a veil over her face.
Her voice was full and sweet, and the old gentleman's voice was that ofa man who was perfectly balanced, showing in all respects a person ofmore than ordinary conditions in life--a refined gentleman.
But in the uncertain light of the cabin skylights Barnwell could not seeplainly enough to distinguish faces, although the voice of both the oldman and the young lady were so impressed upon his mind that he could notforget them.
Tobasco was also on deck, as it was his province to be, and he watchedyoung Barnwell, of course, and also the people with whom he wasconversing.
Indeed, he seldom allowed them out of his sight during the entirevoyage.
It seemed strange to them, but on meeting the next morning on deck, allthree of them recognized each other at once, not-withstanding they hadonly met each other in the dim and uncertain light thrown into thedarkness by the lights from the cabin skylights.
But neither of them seemed in the least surprised, the old gentleman wasjust such a person as young Barnwell judged him to be, and the young manwas in no way different from what he had esteemed him. But to Barnwell'smind the young lady was far more beautiful and attractive than her voicehad led him to think the night before.
She was about eighteen years of age, well-developed, bright andbeautiful, and he was not long in learning that they held therelationship of father and daughter; and after a mutual introductionbrought about in this sea-going way, it proved that the old gentleman,whose name was Clark, had been an old-time friend of Barnwell's father,and this brought them into very close relationship while on the voyage.
He was wealthy, a widower, and with his only child was going abroad forpleasure; and before their arrival at London the young couple had becomemore than ordinary friends, and parted there with an arranged meeting amonth hence at Berlin, after which they were to travel in company.
The spy, Tobasco, meanwhile, never allowed Barnwell to escape hisobservation; and when he set out for St. Petersburg it was only becauseBarnwell was going there also.
He was one of the keenest spies in the employ of the prefect of police,and had been sent to America to watch the movements of Socialists, whowere in active sympathy with the terrible Nihilists of Russia, under theleadership of Paul Zobriskie.
And watching this Nihilist so closely accounts for his being on boardthe steamer where we first met him, and of his sailing away in themanner he did. He had long suspected Prince Mastowix of infidelity tothe Czar, notwithstanding the trust that was reposed in him; andoverhearing Zobriskie mention his name in connection with the giving theletter to Barnwell, he suddenly determined to find out whether or nothis suspicions were correct.
Arriving at St. Petersburg, Barnwell was driven to a good hotel,intending while there to finish his visit and deliver the lettersmeantime, that, however, being only of a slight consideration; for,although he understood that it was a message of importance, it, so faras he was concerned, was only a slight, friendly obligation in thedelivering of it to Prince Mastowix, after which he would be free to doas he liked.
Indeed, his mind for the most part was filled with pleasant thoughts ofbeautiful Laura Clark, and the pleasure he should enjoy when they met atBerlin, never to part again if he could have his way about matters whichagitated his heart, and to which he knew she was not at all indifferent,if she really were not quite as willing as he was.
Tobasco also took quarters at the same hotel, yet so guarded had he kepthimself aloof during all the time, there was not the slightest danger ofBarnwell's ever knowing that he had been a fellow-passenger, but henever relinquished his watchfulness for a moment, for if young Barnwellwas in his apartments he knew it, and if he was abroad he was sure to bealmost as near as his shadow.
The third day after his arrival, and after he had learned how to reachPrince Mastowix, he set out for his palace.
But how little the young man knew of the ways of Russian aristocracy!
Arriving at the prince's palace, he found it guarded at every point bypolice, and when he made known to them that he had private and importantbusiness with his highness, he at once became an object of more thanordinary interest, especially when it was learned that he was anAmerican.
Tobasco, now in the disguise of a Russian peasant, was close at hand,watching everything, while pretending to be a subject for alms.
An officer took Barnwell's name in to the prince, and finally returned,saying that he was empowered to receive any communication the strangermight have for Prince Mastowix, and was astounded almost when the youngAmerican told him that he must see the prince in person.
In those Nihilistic days such a proceeding as that would never do, andafter further consultation with the prince, the detectives and officerswere ordered to search the stranger for concealed weapons.
"No, sir, I refuse," said Barnwell. "I am a simple American citizen,with a message for Prince Mas
towix, and if that is not sufficient I willretire."
This was unheard-of audacity; but one of the officers volunteered to sayto the prince what the young American had said, all the while believingthat the youngster would ordered under arrest for his presumption.
Contrary to expectations, however, the prince ordered stranger to beadmitted to his presence, and he was accordingly conducted thither.
"Well?" said the prince, looking at him inquiringly.
"Are you the Prince Mastowix?" asked Barnwell, calmly.
"I am. Who are you?"
"William Barnwell, of New York, United States of America," said heproudly.
"Well, what have you to do or say to me?" asked the prince, haughtily.
"Only this, prince, and a very little. On the eve of leaving New York Iwas approached by one Paul Zobriskie---"
"Silence!" shouted the prince, and after waiting a moment, as though torecover himself, he waved his attendants from the room. Then, turning toBarnwell, he