“Take off his irons,” ordered the governor.
“Fettered, too. Heavens! what would your father have said?”
The irons were taken off and I was allowed to go with the General to one of the governor’s rooms where we were left alone. This gave me time to regain my self-control.
“Now perhaps you’ll tell me all about it,” said my friend.
“Two things first. Give me a cigar, and tell me how you have come from Petersburg just in the nick of time.”
“From Petersburg? I have not come from Petersburg; I am in Warsaw for a time. But what do you mean? You knew that when you sent me this.”
He handed me a letter as follows:
“Dear old Friend,—
“Come to me at once to the Kreuzstadt fortress. I am a prisoner. For God’s sake.
“Robert Anstruther.”