"No, you are not, young man, for I am Peter Vola," said the man, leaping to his feet and extending his hand, "I am the same man who accosted and conducted you hither, for I have had a spy on your track ever since you imprudently inquired for me. But I feel that I can trust you."
"You can. I am not a Nihilist in form, but I am one at heart, and will yet make these despots feel what I have undeservedly felt," said he, vehemently.
"Good. We need you. But you spoke of a message you had for me."
"Yes."
"From Siberia?"
"Yes."
"And from—"
"Whom do you think?" asked Barnwell, resolved to put a final test to the man's identity.
"Perhaps from my poor sister, Zora."
"The same."