“The unusual character of my fellow-guests on board that craft was such that my suspicion was constantly on the alert, therefore curiosity tempted me to creep along and peep in at the crack of the door standing ajar.  A closer view revealed the fact that the stranger was a high Russian official to whom I had once been introduced at the Government Palace at Helsingfors, the Privy-Councillor and Senator Paul Polovstoff.  They were smoking together, and were discussing in Russian the means by which he, Polovstoff, had arranged to obtain plans of some new British fortifications at Gibraltar.  From what he said, it seemed that some Russian woman, married to an Englishman, a captain in the garrison, had been impressed into the secret service against her will, but that she had, in order to save herself, promised to obtain the photographs and plans that were required.  I heard the Englishman’s name, and I resolved to take some steps to inform him in secret of the intentions of the Russian agent.

“Presently the two men took fresh cigars, ascended on deck, and cast themselves in the long cane chairs amidships.  Still all curiosity to hear further details on the ingenious piece of espionage against my own nation, I took off my shoes and crept up to a spot where I could crouch concealed and overhear their conversation, for the Italian night was calm and still.  They talked mainly about affairs in Finland, and with some of Oberg’s expressions of opinion Polovstoff ventured to differ.  This aroused the Baron’s anger, and I knew from the cold sarcasm of his remarks, and the peculiarly hard tone of his voice, that he was more incensed than he outwardly showed himself to be.  He rose and stood with his back to the bulwarks facing his friend, who still sat leaning back in his deck-chair insisting upon his own views.  He was quite calm, and not in the least perturbed by the evil glint in the Baron’s eye.  Perhaps he did not know him so well as I did.  He did not know what that look meant.  Suddenly, while the Privy-Councillor lay back in his chair pulling thoughtfully at his cigar, there was a bright, blood-red flash, a dull report, and a man’s short agonized cry.  Startled, I leaned around the corner of the deck-house, when, to my abject horror, I saw under the electric rays the Czar’s Privy-Councillor lying sideways in his chair with part of his face blown away.  Then the hideous truth in an instant became apparent.  The cigar which Oberg had pressed upon him down in the saloon had exploded, and the small missile concealed inside the diabolical contrivance had passed upwards into his brain.  For a moment I stood utterly stupefied, yet as I looked I saw the Baron, in a paroxysm of rage, shake his fist in the dead man’s face, and cry with a fearful imprecation:  ’You hound!  You have plotted to replace me in the Czar’s favor.  You intended to become Governor-General of Finland!  You knew certain facts which you intended to put before his Majesty, knowing that the revelations would result in my disgrace and downfall.  But, you infernal cur, you did not know that those who attempt to thwart Xavier Oberg either die by accident or go for life to Kajana or the mines!’ And he spurned the body with his foot and laughed to himself as he gloated over his dastardly crime.