“And why is he on the way to Siberia, may I ask?” demanded the Czar, his voice very calm.
“Because I ordered him sent there, Sire. I found him on the palace steps flourishing a big revolver, and I had my men seize him. He offered me some strange story for his presence there; but I knew he was lying. I had him transported to Siberia along with a hundred other prisoners at once.” “Oh, you did,” said the Czar. “By any chance, did this Englishman tell you that he was engaged on a mission for me, General?”
“He did, Sire. But, of course, I didn’t believe any such story as that.”
“Of course not, General; as you say. But did you think of taking the trouble to investigate his story?”
“Of course not, your Majesty. I knew you did not wish me to take up your valuable time that way. Have I done anything wrong, Sire?”
“Nothing,” said the Czar, “except to send to Siberia a British naval officer, a youth, who, by risking his own life, has saved your country and your Czar.”
Now it was the general’s turn to be astonished. He stepped back in alarm.
“You mean he was telling the truth, Sire?”
“I do.”
The general clasped and unclasped his hands nervously.