“Thanks to our good Alexander, we know the truth,” he said.  “By your kinship to the great family of Suvaroff, Frederick Waring, you are of our kin.  Were you a Russian, there would be another reward that we might give you.  But you own your father’s nationality, though you have proved that there is good Russian blood in your veins.  It is our pleasure to confer on you the order of St. Stanislas, with the crossed swords, given for bravery only!  Now you may go to the cousin who came here in time to save you.”

Dazed, Fred backed away, knowing only that he had not done the right thing.  A hand fell on his shoulder and he looked up into the eyes of Boris’s father.

“Boris is waiting for you,” he said.  “The mystery of Mikail’s hatred for you has been solved.  He is quite mad—­he has been relieved of his command.  I have long suspected this madness and now the whole world knows it!  Your trials are over, my American cousin!”

“But how was Boris rescued?”

“Your friend Lieutenant Sazonoff managed that.  He got permission from his brigadier to attack the railway.  I shall see that he is promoted.”