"You can shadow this man if you think it your duty, but you must not arrest or interfere with him in any way while he is under the protection of the American flag. I shall take him at once before the prime minister," and without loss of time he proceeded to do so.
He was instantly admitted to the august presence of that high functionary, where the story was again told and verified.
The minister of state was astounded, both at the audacity of the outrage and the fact of his being a victim of Prince Mastowix, the very letter he had innocently brought being the one that sealed the traitor's fate.
The whole business was confirmed by Tobasco, the police spy, who secured the letter and gave it to the prefect of police.
Search was at once made for the passport and money belonging to Barnwell, and after a deal of red tape had been unwound the property was found and restored to him.
And not only that, but the Russian prime minister ordered him to be paid five thousand rubles for indemnity, and the American minister rendered a most abject apology for the the outrage.
This was followed at once by orders from the prefect of police to all his subordinates touching Barnwell's case; espionage was withdrawn, his "Number" obliterated from the secret records, and in a short time he was one of the freest men in the Russian empire.
In justice to Surgeon Kanoffskie, he cleared him of all complicity in the matter, although he promptly withdrew, of course, from the menial attitude he had so long occupied towards him, and which had enabled him to escape.
Yes, he was a free man once more, and had, through the dictates of his country, been the recipient of an apology almost from the throne. Yet all this did not efface the cruel stripes left by the knout, or efface from his heart the wrong and misery he had endured.
Indeed, he felt quite as bitter towards the tyrannical government as ever, and there was awful bitterness in his heart.