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Updated: June 20, 2025
The next thing she knew she was blinking in the light, Cutty, his arms folded, staring down at her sombrely. There was blood on his face and blood on his hands. Karlov moodily touched the shoulder of the man on the cot. Stefani Gregor puzzled him.
John. A glow went over the young man's aching body. John. What could that signify except that he had passed into the eternal friendship of this old thoroughbred? John. "About Stefani?" "Stefani is dead. He died speaking your mother's name." Hawksley's head sank; his chin touched his chest. He spoke without looking up. "Something told me I would never see him alive again. Old Stefani!
What good to tell this poor madman that Stefani Gregor had not betrayed him, that he had only warned those marked for death? There was no longer reason inside that skull. To die, probably in a few moments. So be it. Had he not been ready for seven years? But that poor boy to have come all these thousands of miles, only to walk into a trap! Had he found that note? Had they killed him?
I was too far away to see his face. Get me all the morning newspapers. If the advertisement is in all of them I will send a letter to each. We lost the young woman yesterday. And nothing has been heard of Vladimir and Stemmler. Bad. I do not like this place. I move to the house to-night. My old friend Stefani may be lonesome. I dare not risk daylight. Some fool may have talked. To work!
"Stefani Gregor, look up; it is I!" He drummed on his chest like a challenging gorilla. "I, Boris Karlov!" Slowly the eyelids of the prisoner went up, revealing mild blue eyes. But almost instantly the mildness was replaced by an agate hardness, and the body became upright. "Yes, it is Boris, whom you betrayed. But I escaped by a hair, Stefani; and we meet again."
I loved you the night you brought the wallet. Still I did not understand. It was when I heard the lift door and knew you had gone forever that I understood. Loved you with all my heart, with all that poor old Stefani had fashioned out of muck and clay. If you held my head to your heart, if that is my blood there Do you, can you care a little?" "I can and do care very much, Johnny."
He had held up this raid so that he might be on hand to search Karlov; and until now he had forgotten the drums. Accurst! They were accurst. The death of Stefani Gregor would always be on his conscience. Cutty stared not very clearly at the cameo-like face so beautifully calm.
They found enough high explosive to blow up the district. And they found Stefani Gregor. They were standing by the cot as Cutty came in. "Yes, sir. Just this minute went out." "Did he speak?" "A woman's name." "Rosa?" "Yes, sir. Looks to me as if he had been starved to death. Know who he was?" "Yes. Tell the coroner to be gentle. Once upon a time Stefani Gregor spoke to kings by right of genius."
To-morrow he would set the wires humming relative to old Stefani Gregor. Boris Karlov, if indeed it were he, would lead the way. Hadn't Stefani and Boris been boyhood friends, and hadn't Stefani betrayed the latter in some political affair? He wasn't sure; but a glance among his 1912 notes would clear up the fog. But that young chap! Who was he? Cutty set his process of logical deduction moving.
I only tried to save those who had been kind to me." A cunning light shot into Karlov's eyes. "The emeralds!" He struck his pocket. "Here, Stefani; and they shall be broken up to buy bread for our people." "That poor boy! So he brought them! What are you going to do with me?" "Watch you grow thin, Stefani. You want death; you shall want food instead. Oh, a little; enough to keep you alive.
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