"And he is uncle of this young lady, Elma Heath?"
"Uncle? Ah! I don't know that, m'sieur. I have never been told so. His niece—poor young lady!—can that be? Surely not!"
"Why not?" I asked.
But the woman gave me no reason; she only exhibited her palms and sighed. She seemed to have compassion upon the girl I sought; her heart was really softer than I had believed it to be.
"Where does this Baron live?" I asked, surprised that he should occupy so high a place in Russian officialdom—the representative of the Czar, with powers as great as the Emperor himself.
"At the Government Palace, in Helsingfors."
"And Elma Heath is here—in this grim fortress! Why?"
"Ah, m'sieur, how can I tell? By reason of family secrets, perhaps. They account for so much, you know."
"That is exactly my opinion," I said. "She has been brought here against her will."
"Most probably. This is not a cheerful place, as you see. We have five months of ice and snow, and for four months are practically cut off from civilization and see no new face."