“The Little Father has come to be with his soldiers!” he said.  “He has come to give us his blessing and bid us fight for him and Holy Russia!  How can we lose now?”

“The Czar himself?” said Fred. He smiled.  He had hoped, when he left America, to see the Czar before his return.  There was small chance of that now, even though they were in the same town.

The Russians delayed as little as had the Germans in bringing him to trial.  And here in Grodno there was even less ceremony than there had been in the dining-room of the East Prussian parsonage.

A young officer was assigned to defend him, but he took the task as a joke.

“You’ll be condemned, of course,” he said.  “Prince Mikail knows you are a spy.  I think you’re very lucky that he didn’t hang you outside of his own headquarters!  Better plead guilty.  It will save time for everyone.”

But Fred refused.  Hopeless as the case was, he was still determined to take every chance there was, and to fight for every minute of delay.  But the proceedings were soon over.  The charge against him was read so quickly that he could scarcely follow it.  He was allowed to speak for himself, but none of the officers of the court paid any attention to him.  The verdict was quickly found.  And the president of the court was just about to pronounce sentence when there was an interruption.  Into the room strode a man at whose entrance every officer started to his feet, saluting.  The newcomer jerked his hand to his forehead, answering the salute, and then stood staring about.

Fred, had never seen such a figure.  The man was a giant.  He wore a khaki uniform.  He was nearly seven feet tall, but he was so magnificently formed that it was only the way he towered over even the tall Russian officers about him that his great height was apparent.  Fred knew him at once.  It was the Grand Duke Nicholas.

“The court is dissolved!” he said, in a harsh, rasping voice.  “I will take charge myself of the prisoner.  Boy, come with me!”

Utterly amazed, Fred obeyed.  The Grand Duke seized his arm in a vise-like grip and half pushed, half dragged him along with him.  Fred was too amazed even to wonder what had happened or what was to happen next.  He found himself being led into a room that was filled with officers.  They were grouped about one end of the room, where, near a window, there stood a short man in a brilliant uniform.  Fred gasped as he recognized him.  At the same moment the grip on his arm was loosened, and the Grand Duke Nicholas swept off his cap.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “this is the American boy of whom we have heard.  One who has done such things as he is charged with must hear his fate from your own lips.  He is charged by Mikail Suvaroff with being a spy and a traitor.  On the other hand—­”

The Czar smiled.