“This afternoon while in my office a record passed through my hands that told me something it was plain we revolutionists were not intended to know.”
“Yes, yes?”
“The worst has happened. Sonya and Borodin are condemned to die.”
Drexel’s legs gave way beneath him and he sank slowly to the couch. “Condemned to die?”
Sabatoff nodded. “Condemned by their father.”
There was silence.
Drexel’s lips formed: “When do they——” and stilled.
“At four to-morrow morning.”
“In twelve hours!” he breathed.
Even in this reeling moment Drexel recognized that Freeman was in this crowning calamity. Why had not his hand been stronger out there upon the frozen river! And he recognized in it the diabolic cunning of Berloff—and he recognized that the prince’s motive was the Valenko fortune.