IT was a quaint ceremony, our marriage.

The clock was close on the stroke of ten when Siegel and I reached the prison where Marvyn was already waiting for us in the room in which Helga and I had seen each other. He shook hands with Siegel and congratulated him.

“On getting in or getting out?”

“Both,” replied Marvyn, and they laughed.

“This is a queer show,” said Siegel.

“Denver was never conventional,” returned Marvyn with a shrug of the shoulders.

“How do they tie them up over here? Greek Church?” queried Siegel.

“Yes,” nodded Marvyn. “Depends on the religion.”

“Through soon?” and Siegel glanced at his watch. “I want a bath.”

“A few minutes. By the way, Denver, to make the thing regular—I thought I’d better ask Hoskyns, the Embassy chaplain, to come along.”

“Thank you, I hadn’t thought of that,” I said.

“Will you come to the chapel, monsieur?” asked a warder entering at that moment.

He led us through the corridors to the dimly-lighted gloomy chapel where Helga in charge of a female warder was waiting near the chaplain.

“Odd looking Joshua,” murmured Siegel, glancing at the priest’s quaint robes.

Marvyn, who did things with official decorum, took no notice and when we reached the altar rails Siegel and Helga shook hands and he said something which made her smile. Then I introduced Marvyn who was obviously struck by her beauty.

“She’s very lovely,” he whispered to me as we took our places.

“Yes, she’ll make ’em hustle around in New York,” added Siegel who overheard him.

The ceremony was in Russian and very brief. The priest spoke in a kind of droning chant and his deep voice rolled around the empty building and came back from the dark recesses behind the heavy pillars with a hollow echo more striking than cheerful.

I knew enough of the ritual to do the right thing at the right moment and when it all came to a rather abrupt and unexpected end, I heard Siegel, whose modernity was quite unaffected by the weird strangeness of the scene, exclaim in a quite audible tone, “First Half,” as if it had been a football match.

Marvyn saw to the completion of the legal formalities and then Helga slipped her hand in my arm and I led her away down the cold gaunt aisle.

I was too happy and proud to think of anything except my dear beautiful wife until on passing one of the plain sturdy pillars I felt her start, and glancing round saw Prince Kalkov step from its shadow. He did not speak to us, but joined the two men.

“He said he would be present; I had forgotten,” I whispered to Helga. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I wonder why he has hurried us so,” she said. “We shall soon know.”

When we reached the little room we found Mr. Hoskyns, the American chaplain, waiting for us, and Marvyn who came in alone introduced him.

“Where’s Siegel?” I asked.

“Trying to interview Prince Kalkov,” he replied with a dry smile.

Siegel came in time for the second ceremony which was even shorter than that in the chapel, and when the signing was finished and the others had congratulated us, Helga got ready to leave.“That should be a good double knot,” said Siegel. “Do you suppose I can go back to my cell?”

“I’ve engaged a room for you at the Imperial,” I told him. “You’ll all come round with us?”

But the chaplain excused himself and Marvyn pleaded a pressing engagement.

“I should like to come, Denver,” he said, drawing me aside. “I want a word with you very particularly. Come and see me first thing in the morning at the Embassy, will you? It’s about those things.”

“What about them?”

“I want you to take them away. And as you’re all right now, I suppose it won’t matter.”

“Anything to do with Kalkov?” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Indirectly, I’ll tell you in the morning. You needn’t worry,” he added, noticing my look.

I promised to see him in the morning, and then Siegel, declaring he must have a word or two with Marvyn, persisted in going away with him.

I led Helga to the carriage and Prince Kalkov met us by the door of the prison.

“I shall see you to-morrow, monsieur?”

“Yes, assuredly. We shall be at the Imperial.”

“I will come to you there in the afternoon at three o’clock. May I wish your wife and you all happiness?”

Helga said nothing; she would not even look at him, and I felt the pressure of her hand on my arm tighten.

“We ought to have it, Prince. We have had to fight hard to get even thus far,” I said. “Good-night.”

“Good-night.”

He bared his head and bowed to Helga, and with a smile drew aside for us to pass.

Helga shivered slightly and whispered—

“I am very foolish; but I am still afraid of him.”

“It’s something to know he fears us also,” I answered. “We have forced him to open these gates for you and you are now the wife of an American citizen. So we have the laugh on him.”

“For a time,” she said thoughtfully.

“No, for all our time. The Stars and Stripes will see to that. Besides, you agreed to meet even our marriage with a laugh;” and then we began to keep the agreement and to put the Prince and all his wiles out of our thoughts.

At breakfast on the following morning Helga was in excellent spirits as we discussed the prospects of our long journey and planned the day’s work of preparation for it. There were a hundred things to do and innumerable purchases to make, and Helga with paper and pencil laughed gaily as the list she made grew until its length was formidable.

“There is one nut we have still to crack,” I said. “What to do with the papers,” and I told her what Marvyn had said to me on the previous night. I had not told her before not wishing to kindle her inflammable anxiety.

“The Prince’s hand is in it, of course, and not for any good,” was her comment.

“That’s the best of dealing with such a man—you can always gamble on it that he means some kind of trouble.”

“I think we may tear this up,” she said, and held up the list we had made so carefully.

“Tear it up? But you—oh, you think we shan’t be allowed to go, after all?”

“I don’t know what I think, but I am sure there is treachery somewhere.”

I was not in a suspicious mood, however. The world had become very bright to me and I thought Helga was too much under the influence of her former feelings. One can’t shake oneself free in a dozen hours from the trammels of such a life of danger and vigilance as she had lived for years. She seemed to read my thought.“You think I am fanciful, Harper,” she said with a smile. “I hope so; but the Prince does nothing without an object and his real object is so rarely that which he lets you see.”

“I am more confident than ever,” I said.

“Probably he is reckoning on that, dear—to recover the papers, hoping we shall make some false step.”

“I believe you’re right, but——”

I paused, for it had not dawned upon me until then all that the abandonment of the journey might mean to Helga.

“I have been very thoughtless, my dear, but I see now what you mean.”

She smiled gently and sadly.

“I almost hope he is not alive. He was incapable of any such crimes as the Prince hinted, and if he has had to endure the life in the mines for all these years, it would be worse than death to him. Better death than a broken heart such as his would be. You would say so if you had known him.”

“Were it my own father’s case I would rather he were dead, Helga. I know the pain of such a thought to you. The cruelty of Kalkov in raising a false hope is just dastardly, and to do it for some fresh crafty purpose makes it diabolical.”

“What we have to do is to thwart the purpose; for, depend on it, we are in as great danger from him as ever. I think I begin to see it now.”

“Show me.”

“He knows that the papers will be in either your hands or mine and accordingly has hurried our marriage.”

“I don’t think we’ll blame him for that,” I interposed, and drew a glance of love from her.

“Then he put out the bait for this long journey for us together——”

“But he first opposed your going and wanted me to go alone.”“Yes, knowing it would be useless for you to go by yourself. He was merely working round to his end. He can of course deal more easily with us together. Then, see his next step. He waits until we are married and pledged to go to Siberia, and then contrives that the papers are to be suddenly forced back into our possession. Mr. Marvyn is to give them to you this morning, we are to start to-night or to-morrow; and he reckons he can watch us so closely after you get them and until we start that he will learn what you do with them.”

“I meant to take them with us.”

Helga thought a moment and shook her head.

“Very likely he has meant that too, but I doubt if he would take such a risk. If I read him aright, he will look for his opportunity at the first convenient moment after you leave the Embassy this morning. You will have the papers with you and an arrest and a search would give him all he wants. You see it now?”

“And see also that if it had not been for your sharp woman’s wit I should have tumbled into his trap again. You are wonderful, Helga.”

“There is nothing wonderful in such a guess. I know him. The question is what to do with the papers?”

“They shall go to New York,” I said promptly.

“But how?”

As if to suggest an answer to her question Frank Siegel came hurrying into the room saying as he shook hands—

“Can give you just five minutes; been cabled for, and am off for home in an hour. Going to join our people in New York.”

Helga and I exchanged looks.

“Leaving ’Frisco?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Same people, same papers, different place, that’s all, except that it’s better.”

“I’m glad. Hope we shall follow you soon.”“Siberia off then?” he asked, in a matter of fact tone.

“Don’t know yet. By the way, could you take something to my father for me?”

“Those papers?”

“You’re very quick, M. Siegel,” laughed Helga.

“My dear Mrs. Denver, I’d do anything in the world to oblige you; but this is a large order. Can’t risk another arrest just now. What’s up, Harper?”

“I want those papers got safely to New York.”

“I can do better than take ’em; tell you how to get ’em over safely. They wouldn’t be safe with me.”

“How do you mean?”

“Why, get Marvyn to send ’em as Embassy business.”

“Great Scott, I never thought of it,” I exclaimed.

“Good-bye, Mrs. Denver. You’ll like New York, and we shall have times together. Better than Siberia. Good-bye, Harper. Thanks for that chance in the prison. Glad now I got out so soon. This cable’s urgent. Good-bye and good luck,” and he was gone.

“American methods are a little breathless, Harper,” said Helga, with a laugh. “Do you all cut knots as easily?”

“He’s cut this one anyway,” and then we discussed how I should proceed. We decided to act just as though we were really going away, and to make a show of preparing for the journey. And at Helga’s suggestion we put up a little scheme of our own to frustrate any plan which the Prince might have formed.

Helga was to go to see after her own matters and we decided not to meet until an hour before the time Prince Kalkov had appointed to call. Then we were to lunch in our own rooms and not leave them until he arrived.

The reason for this was of course that his spies might be able to trace our movements very easily, and lead the Prince to believe that what he sought would be found with us in the hotel.I was to call first at the Foreign Embassy to arrange matters there; then to see Marvyn, and on leaving him to drive round to various stores to purchase what I needed for the journey, and to do everything as though I had not a suspicion of treachery.

I was on the point of starting when it occurred to me that Marvyn might prove very reluctant to adopt Siegel’s suggestion. In his official capacity he might be placed in a very awkward and embarrassing position, and would very probably shrink from having any more official dealings with documents about which these representations had been made.

I had no desire to get him into trouble and I therefore resolved to mislead him. Accordingly I made up a dummy set of papers closely resembling those I had left with him, and I took them with me in readiness.

It turned out to be a very fortunate precaution.

Before anything was said on the subject I opened my fire.

“This jaunt to Siberia is a pretty big thing, Marvyn, and as one never knows what is going to happen I think I ought to send some papers I have with me home to my father: my will and some other things. They are very important—some of them, and as my relations with the authorities here have been peculiar, and letters have a knack of getting opened, I want you to send them over under official cover. I suppose there’ll be no difficulty.”

“You don’t mean the—those I have.”

“I mean these,” I said, and took them out of my pocket.

“Oh, that will be all right,” he answered in a tone of relief, and held out his hand for them. “They can go at once if you like. It happens we’re sending off a special despatch to Washington about the China crisis. We’ve had a messenger out with important despatches from the President, and he’s going back with our reply to-day. Give them to me and I’ll see to it.”“I have a line or two to add to my father first. And now about the important papers. I want you to keep them till I get back from this journey.”

“Don’t ask me, Denver. As I told you, I’d do anything in my power for you, but this is really impossible. Exactly what has happened I don’t know and was told not to ask, but I have to give my word that I’ve returned the things to you.”

I assumed a little indignation of course and argued the point, urging my father’s position and the extreme inconvenience to me in having to take such documents to Siberia, and then very reluctantly gave way and took the packets from him.

He left me then to finish the supposed letter to my father and all I had to do was to change the envelopes and I slipped the dummies into envelopes I had brought with me, endorsed precisely like the genuine ones, and I put the genuine ones into an envelope addressed to my father.

“I wish you could have sent these as well,” I said, in a rueful tone to Marvyn when he brought me an official wrapping; and I pointed to the two carefully addressed dummies.

“I wish I could, but you’ll understand how it is.”

“It’s very awkward,” I replied, and put them in my pocket. “By the way, things being as they are, it’s not worth while to speak of this.”

“My dear Denver, silence is the very A.B.C. of our work,” he answered.

There was nothing more to do, and after a word or two about our journey I pleaded the many preparations I had to make, thanked him for all he had done and bade him good-bye.

As I left the building I looked round for the Prince’s agents, speculating when the arrest which Helga had prophesied would be made.