“You will not.  You are under arrest.”

I laughed heartily and snapped my fingers, saying: 

“Before you give me over to your police, first telegraph to your Minister of Finance, Monsieur de Witte, and inquire of him who and what I am.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“You have merely to send my name and description to the Minister and ask for a reply,” I said.  “He will give you instructions—­or, if you so desire, ask his Majesty yourself.”

“And why, pray, does his Majesty concern himself about you?” he asked, at once puzzled.

“You will learn later, after I am confined in Kajana and your secret is known in Petersburg.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said, “I mean that I have taken all the necessary steps to be forearmed against you.  The day I am incarcerated by your order, the whole truth will be known.  I shall not be the sufferer—­but you will.”

My words, purposely enigmatical, misled him.  He saw the drift of my argument, and being of course unaware of how much I knew, he was still in fear of me.  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.  The Czar may be your patron, and you his favorite, but his Majesty has no tolerance of officials who are guilty of what you are guilty of.  You talk of arresting me!” I added with a smile.  “Why, you ought rather to go on your knees and beg my silence.”

He went white with rage at my cutting sarcasm.  He literally boiled over, for he saw that I was quite cool and had no fear of him or of the terrible punishment to which he intended to consign me.  Besides which, he was filled with wonder regarding the exact amount of information which Elma had imparted to me.