They are used to idiots where you are going," he
added grimly.
"Oh! And where am I going?"
"Back to Kanaja. This order consigns you to confinement there as a
dangerous political conspirator, as one who has threatened me--it
consigns you to the cells below the lake--for life!"
I laughed aloud, and my hand sought my wallet wherein was that
all-powerful document--the order of the Emperor which gave me, as an
imperial guest, immunity from arrest. I would produce it as my
trump-card.
Next second, however, I held my breath, and I think I must have turned
pale. My pocket was empty! My wallet had been stolen! Entirely and
helplessly I had fallen into the hands of the tyrant of the Czar.
His own personal interest would be to consign me to a living tomb in
that grim fortress of Kajana, the horrors of which were unspeakable. I
had seen enough during my inspection of the Russian prisons as a
journalist to know that there, in strangled Finland, I should not be
treated with the same consideration or humanity as in Petersburg or
Warsaw.
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