TWO hours after Sonya Valesky had been taken away by the Russian police Nona Davis started back for the Russian fortress.

Only a few moments were required to pack her own belongings, since the little house and everything inside it had been fumigated as soon as Sonya reached a state of convalescence. Nona’s time had been spent in trying to comfort Sonya’s servants, old Katja and Nika, and also in trying to acquire some information from them.

In neither effort was she successful. Either the old man and woman knew nothing of Sonya’s actions, or else they were too grief-stricken to confide their knowledge. There was also the third possibility that Sonya had warned them against betraying her to any human being. Whatever the reason, they were dumb, except for their half-broken Russian prayers and stories of Sonya as a little girl. If she had not long ago been fully aware of the fact, Nona was now assured that the two peasants had been former servants of the Russian woman. It was Sonya who would not recognize the distinctions of maid and mistress, who called herself by no title and would allow her servants to call her by none.

Therefore it was almost night when Nona left the little hut, old Nika carrying her bag and plodding behind her. The girl felt that she must return to her two American friends to receive their aid and sympathy.

Surely something could be done for Sonya, it was horrible to think of her being carried off to a Russian prison, concerning which one had read such dreadful stories. She was too ill and she seemed so utterly without friends or relatives. Yet Nona herself was utterly powerless, knowing no one with any influence in Russia. Nevertheless she felt a strange bond, which had come to her out of the past, between herself and Sonya Valesky.

One person, however, might be willing to give her advice, though she doubted his help. In returning to the fort, Nona meant as soon as possible to request an interview with the young Russian officer, Michael Orlaff.

She was not frightened during her walk through the dismal Russian country. Wearing her Red Cross uniform she felt a sufficient protection, besides old Nika’s presence. But the real truth is she was too absorbed in considering Sonya’s history and fate to be aware of anything else.

She was therefore more annoyed than frightened when a figure appeared before her at the crossing of the road by the Three Pines. The voice that straightway called out to them held a quality of command that made Nika drop at once on his knees. Nona was not in the least frightened, but then she had seen the outline of the young officer’s figure and the glistening of his sword hilt.“I am Nona Davis, an American Red Cross nurse on my way back to the fortress, Lieutenant Orlaff,” the girl explained. “I am glad to have met you, as perhaps you will tell me what I must do when I reach the gate.”

The Russian officer saluted as though Nona had been a superior officer.

“I was on my way at the present moment to Sonya Valesky’s home to inquire for her. This is the first hour of freedom I have been able to command all day. But tell me what brings you back to the fortress at this time? Has Sonya grown worse or is she better?”

Here was her opportunity. Nona felt that fate must have sent it to her by a special dispensation. Now there need be no delay in her confidence.

Lieutenant Orlaff came of a noble family, he must have powerful connections, if he could only be persuaded to use them in Sonya’s behalf. Certainly he had appeared to be her friend, although disapproving of her behavior and views of life.

As sympathetically and as quickly as possible Nona told of the coming of the Russian police. Then she laid great stress on the fact that Sonya was too ill to have been taken away at such a time. Yet she had gone without resistance, making no plea for herself and asking for no aid. What must they do? The situation was unendurable.

Intentionally Nona used the pronoun “they,” including Lieutenant Orlaff with herself in their interest in Sonya. Yet except for his first muttered exclamation the Russian officer had made no comment.

In the darkness Nona gazed at him resentfully. The Russians were a cruel people, sometimes all fire and then again all ice. She would like to have told him what an American man would have attempted for a friend, who was a woman and in such a tragic position, no matter what her crime or mistake. But Nona was sure by this time that Sonya Valesky had committed no crime. She had come to know her too well, her exquisite gentleness, so oddly combined with a blind determination that took no thought of self. Besides she recalled her friend’s final words, “a follower of the Prince of Peace.” Surely there were but few such followers in the European world today!

Awaiting his answer, Nona continued to look at her companion. The young Russian might have stood for the figure of “Mars,” the young god of war, as he strode along beside her. He was six feet in height, splendidly made, and tonight in the semi-darkness his face showed hard and unmoved.

“I am grieved but not surprised at what you tell me,” he returned the next moment. “Not a hundred, but a thousand times I have warned Sonya that she must give up her mad ideas. There was sufficient danger in them when the world was at peace. Now in time of war to preach that men are brothers, that there should be no such thing as patriotism, that all men are kin, no matter what their country, there never was such folly. It is hard to feel pity or patience.”

“Then you will do nothing to help?” Nona inquired, trying to hide the anger she felt. “Of course I understand that from your point of view and from the view of nearly all the world Sonya Valesky is hopelessly wrong. But I can’t see why she should be punished because she has a higher ideal than other people?”

If Nona had only thought for a moment she would have realized that the world has always thus rewarded its visionaries.

“But Sonya is not content to think in this way alone. She has spent her life in trying to persuade other persons to her view, and has many followers. Once she was a very rich woman and traveled in many lands preaching her universal brotherhood,” the young officer ended his speech with a characteristic shrug of his shoulders, which is the Oriental fashion of announcing that fate is stronger than one’s will.

“To have continued advocating such a doctrine in a time of war was worse than madness. I have done what I could, I have even risked my own honor and safety in remaining Sonya’s friend. Now retribution has come,” he concluded, as though the subject was not to be resumed.And Nona did not reply at once. So the young Russian officer and the American girl walked on toward the fortress through darkness that was each moment growing more dense. There were no lights save the stars, since the fortress was only dimly lighted in the interior; outside lights would too plainly have exposed their position to the enemy.

“What then do you think will become of Sonya? What punishment will she have to suffer?” Nona inquired when she felt that she had gotten her voice under control.

“Siberia,” Lieutenant Orlaff returned briefly. Then feeling that his companion desired him to say more, he went on:

“In many cases a man or woman who has done what Sonya Valesky has would be hung as a traitor. She has been preaching peace, which means she has been urging men not to fight. That is treason to Russia. But I believe that Sonya will be lightly dealt with because she comes of a family that once served the Czar and his father. Besides, Sonya is a woman and a beautiful one and it would not do to make a martyr of her.”

“Then you think Siberia a light punishment?” Nona questioned, no longer trying to keep the bitterness out of her tones. “Well, surely you accept a friend’s misfortune easily! I have not your philosophy. I do not think I can do much, as I have no friends in Russia and no money, but as soon as I receive permission I shall go to Petrograd to be of whatever service I can.”

Lieutenant Orlaff stared at the girl beside him. It was impossible to see anything but the outline of her face, yet he could observe its pallor and the sheen of her hair under the nurse’s cap. Besides, he felt the contempt she had not allowed herself to express, for the Russian is singularly proud and sensitive.

“I repeat that I am very sorry,” the young officer added. “You are wrong in thinking I take Sonya Valesky’s fate lightly. Her family and mine, as I once told you, have been friends for many years. After the death of her parents my father was for a little time her guardian until she came of age. I will do what I can; I will write letters to her relatives and to people who were once her friends. But I warn you to expect nothing. Long ago they became weary of her wild theories and have had nothing to do with her for years.”

“Then all the more reason why I should do what I can. Even if I accomplish nothing, at least Sonya will have the comfort of knowing that a friend is near her during her trial,” the girl said aloud, although really not addressing her companion.

During the latter part of his speech she had been thinking very rapidly. First of all, she must ask for a leave of absence from her Red Cross nursing and explain that it was necessary for her to return to Petrograd for a time. But where was she to obtain the money for her expenses? She had nothing of her own except the few roubles which she was paid for her work and which she had forfeited when she undertook to care for Sonya Valesky. In all probability when Mildred Thornton knew her mission she could borrow the money from her. But then this would mean a delay so long that she might be of no service to Sonya. For Mildred kept only a small amount of extra money with her and would be compelled to write her father for any large sum. Weeks would pass before Judge Thornton could receive his daughter’s request and then there would be more time required for the transmission of the check.

However, besides Mildred there was Eugenia who could be appealed to for aid. There was no doubt of Eugenia’s assistance, once she learned Sonya Valesky’s story and realized why she had seemed a suspicious character to all of them in the days of their meeting on board the “Philadelphia.” But Eugenia was away off somewhere in France nursing in a Red Cross hospital near her husband’s line of trenches. It would also take time to reach Eugenia. Nevertheless she was the best person to whom to make a request.

“But what connection have you with Sonya Valesky? Why should you not be willing to leave her to her fate?” Lieutenant Orlaff had to ask the second time before Nona heard him. “You have done what you could in nursing her through a dangerous illness; friendship could expect nothing more. Besides, you are an American girl and can have only a slight acquaintance with Sonya.”

Again Nona Davis did not reply immediately. How much or how little should she take the Russian officer into her confidence? However, it did not seem to her of much importance then.

“You are mistaken. I am not simply an American girl,” Nona explained quietly. “My father was an American, but my mother was a Russian. She and Sonya Valesky knew each other as girls, although my mother was the older. There is a stronger tie between us than you imagine. And I have reason to believe that my mother once thought as Sonya does about many things.”

“Your mother, impossible!” Michael Orlaff exclaimed, with more consternation and regret in his voice than was reasonable. “But you, surely you cherish no such ideas?”The American girl shook her head, although she seemed to be pondering over her companion’s question before replying.

“No,” she returned at last. “I have no such ideas and I believe never will have them. Even though my mother was a Russian, I am an American in all my feelings and instincts and training. Russia fascinates me, but it frightens me at the same time. Besides, it is not necessary in our country that we should teach peace and equality, because it is in those two principles that the American people most believe. If Sonya is released I mean to try and take her back to the United States with me to remain until the war is over.”

“But Sonya will not be released, I have tried to make you understand,” Lieutenant Orlaff added doggedly. “What is one woman more or less in times like these? Go to Petrograd if you will, Miss Davis. I have told you it is not wise for you and your friends to remain at Grovno. But when you reach Petrograd have nothing to do with Sonya Valesky. I have known you only a short time, yet I am your friend and I warn you. Cannot you see that I care very much what becomes of you? You are a guest in my country; you have come to do us a service. It would be a poor return if trouble overtook you.”

Nona and Lieutenant Orlaff with old Nika hobbling behind them had by this time about reached the entrance to the fortress. Nona was truly grateful. She was very tired and depressed from the day’s experiences. Moreover, she did not understand the manner or the words of the young officer beside her. At one moment he seemed extraordinarily hard and at the next unnecessarily concerned. Nothing could happen to her in Petrograd of a serious character, but in any case her experiences could not interest Lieutenant Orlaff.

As soon as possible Nona said good-by to him. Later, in recalling their conversation, she often thought of a phrase he used: “What is one woman more or less in times like these?”

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