My only uncertainty was of the actual fate of poor Elma.
My wallet had been stolen--with a purpose, without a doubt--for the
thief had deprived me of that most important of all documents, the open
sesame to every closed door, the ukase of the Czar.
"You defy me!" he said hoarsely, turning back to the window with the
written order for my imprisonment as a political still in his hand. "But
we shall see."
"You rule Finland," I said in a hard tone, "but you have no power over
Gordon Gregg."
"I have power, and intend to exert it."
"For your own ruin," I remarked with a self-confident smile. "You may
give your torturers orders to kill me--orders that a fatal accident
shall occur within the fortress--but I tell you frankly that my death
will neither erase nor conceal your own offenses. There are others, away
in England, who are aware of them, and who will, in order to avenge my
death, speak the truth. Remember that although Elma Heath has been
deprived of both hearing and of speech, she can still write down the
true facts in black and white.
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