gentleman, bearing the name of WilliamBarnwell, whom I met some three or four years ago," said the old man.
"Well, sir, I am the same individual."
"Indeed, but you have greatly changed."
There was an unmistakable coolness visible in Mr. Clark's conducttowards him, but he readily understood why it was so, for afterbetrothing himself to his daughter he had disappeared mysteriously, andgiven no sign.
"Well, sir, when you learn what I have been through since last we met,you will not wonder at the change in me. Is Laura well?"
Mr. Clark looked at him a moment without making any reply, thenbeckoning him to follow, led the way to their parlors.
"Are you sure she will welcome me, sir?"
"That will depend; Laura, please come this way a moment," he called.
"Yes, papa, dear, what is it?" she asked, as she came from her chamber,and her sweet voice thrilled him just as it used to.
"Do you know this gentleman?"
She gazed at Barnwell a moment, and then sat down in a chair withoutspeaking.
"Do you not recognize me, Miss Clark?"
"It is barely possible that you are Mr. Barnwell, but if so, you aregreatly changed," she said, calmly.
"Yes, I am William Barnwell; there is good cause for the change you seein me. I saw you driving out, but now, and resolved to see you both, iffor no other reason than to explain my conduct to you."
Then he proceeded to relate the story of his life since parting withthem, the story that the reader knows so well, holding them spellboundfor an hour or more with it, after which he was forgiven, and their oldrelations resumed, greatly to the delight of all three, and especiallyof Mr. Clark, who had noticed that his daughter was becoming more andmore low-spirited as the time grew longer, and Barnwell not heard from.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DEATH OF AN EMPEROR.
One thing, however, Barnwell did not tell Mr. Clark or his daughter; andthat was how he was making use of the vast amount of money that had beengiven him by Batavsky. That was always to remain a secret within his ownbreast.
He felt that he was simply fulfilling a sacred trust, and gainingrevenge for his own terrible suffering.
He loved his beautiful countrywoman, and as soon as he had finished hiswork he would make her his wife, and resume the travels he had set outupon years before.
Naturally he was much in her company after their reunion, and this againthrew the detectives from the scent, for before long it became known tothem that they were to be married, and start for France and othercountries of Europe.
And yet the Nihilists in Russia and in Poland continued to be moreactive and aggressive, and the police authorities made but little, ifany, headway in arresting them.
At length the aristocracy of St. Petersburg, Warsaw, Moscow, and otherlarge centers became almost panic stricken--not even daring to trusttheir oldest servants.
This feeling was increased when the Czar found a note on hisdressing-bureau, which read as follows:
"Alexander.--My life was as good as that of your tyrant father,Nicholas. He murdered me. My spirit will murder you.--Batavsky."
That the note was placed there by some bold Nihilist, a member of theemperor's household, there could be no doubt, and although his personalstaff and ministers advised him to take no notice of it, it struckterror to his heart.
Every member of his household was taken in hand by the police andquestioned, and each one made to give a sample of his handwriting, butnothing could be found out.
Extra precautions were taken, however, and the Czar never ventured forthwithout a double guard, and even the streets were guarded by the policeto insure his safety.
But another warning came, as if to show him that even those who guardedhim needed guards for themselves, when one day the prefect of police waskilled on the steps of his official residence, and no clew of theassassin could be found, although lying near his body was found a paperwith the simple name of Batavsky written upon it in Russian.
Then the Czar began to question who this Batavsky was, and it wasfinally ascertained that an influential man by that name had beentransported to Siberia by the Emperor Nicholas for engaging in arevolution--in fact, that he was one of the first Nihilists of Russia,and was supposed to be enormously rich.
But those riches were never found, and the old revolutionist had died inSiberia, and so nothing came of the inquiry save a deeper mystery.
Two or three attempts upon the Czar's life were made and failed. Thosewho were caught or suspected were put to death, but so soon as one wastaken from the work two more were ready to fill his place.
And while in this terror, the Czar and his official household instead ofdoing anything towards relieving the burdens under which the peoplegroaned, and which drove them to these bitter acts of revenge andreprisal, took all means possible to bind their chains closer yet, andto stamp out Nihilism with an iron heel.
"Laura, you know I told you of poor old Batavsky in Siberia?" he askedof Miss Clark one day.
"Yes, Will, I remember," she replied.
"Well, I dreamed of him last night, and have a presentiment that hispresence will soon be felt on earth."
"Oh, Will, you are such a dreamer, you are. Let us talk of somethingelse:."
"As you please. I merely mentioned it; so let's wait and see havearranged everything."
"Oh, that will be so nice! You are so good!"
"As I should be, to one who has waited for me so faithfully and so long.But the dark clouds are rolling by, Laura, and after a little I shall bemy own master again."
"And are you not so now?" she asked.
"Not wholly. I have had a sacred duty to perform, and it will soon befinished."
Of course both were busy with their preparations for departure, and shepaid but little attention to what he said, as it was upon a subject sheknew nothing of, and yet her woman's wit and insight told her that herlover was engaged in something of a mysterious nature, and she hailedwith delight the prospect of getting out of Germany and back to America.
The following day the whole world was startled and monarchs trembled ata dynamite explosion in St. Petersburg.
The Czar Alexander was riding along in a carriage, closely guarded bysoldiers and mounted police, when, without an instant's warning, acartridge exploded directly under his carriage, killing everybody andeverything within a radius of fifty yards, producing the greatest havocand devastation.
"Quick--the czar!" cried those who had escaped the terrible explosion.
And a rush was made to the scene of the wreck, where lay mangled horsesand human beings, and out of that chaos of desolation they dragged themangled body of the Czar of all the Russias!
Panic and consternation seized St. Petersburg, seized all Russia--thewhole world, in fact.
Instant search was made for those who perpetrated the terrible deed.
One or two suspected individuals were put to the sword without judge orjury, yet they were innocent of the deed.
Detectives and secret service officers took possession of the spot andexamined everything--every shovelful of snow even.
Out of the ruin wrought by the terrific explosion one of the officerspulled a small metal plate, crooked and bent by the concussion.
The dead emperor had been borne tenderly to the palace, and all Russiawas in tears, either of joy or sorrow.
The officers read an inscription on the plate they had found.
It was graven deep and clear in pure Russian. It read:
"The spirit of Peter Batavsky, raging for revenge, calls for the Czar,the son of his murderer! Long live the Russian people!"
That was all, but it amazed those who read it, for it bore the same namethat had so terrified the Czar on another occasion.
Never before had such a shock been given to the world, not even theassassination of Julius Caesar was a comparison to it.
But while the excitement was at its burning height, William Barnwell andhis affianced left Berlin for London.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
This story naturally ends here.
But a few words more need be said.
Marriage, happiness, wealth became the portion of the Boy Nihilist, andhere falls the curtain on this strange and romantic drama.
THE END.
Read "LUCKY DICK GOLDEN; or, THE BOY MINERS OF PLACER CREEK," by An OldScout, which will be the next number (577) of "Pluck and Luck."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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