Judge —— entered immediately, and we exchanged scrutinising glances. The leader of the anti-Swedish party was a young man, still on the right side of forty, with a very determined countenance, and a look about which there was nothing furtive or embarrassed. It was not an intellectual face. I put the man down as a strong-willed, ambitious intriguer, with courage, but not very much disinterested patriotism.
‘What is the meaning of this preposterous arrest?’ I demanded, with warmth.
‘This is an affair of State; I will examine the accused in private,’ the judge announced, not answering me directly.
As soon as the room was cleared, he turned to me.
‘Who are you?’ was his first question.
‘I am a Russian,’ I answered.
‘I know that. What is your business here?’
I breathed again. I now knew that Marloff had failed to guess my identity.
‘I have come here on the track of certain forgers,’ I began, and went on to tell the story I had given to the hotel manager and the banker.
Judge —— listened incredulously.