life everlasting. Hear, O Lord, Thy servant's prayer, Amen."

The closing of the iron portals of the vault terminated the ceremony, and the procession wound its way to the castle, where tables were spread in different rooms for the nobility, the students and the domestics.

The old priest, however, lingered behind and, while all the rest turned their faces toward the castle, took his daughter by the hand and went another way. In vain had a cover been laid for him in the great hall of the castle.

CHAPTER III.
TWO GOOD FRIENDS.

In a splendid hall formed entirely of malachite—its slender columns hewn each from a single block and resembling tropical tree-trunks, its niches filled with rare exotic plants, its centre occupied by a mammoth aquarium, and its arched doorways each affording a glimpse into a seemingly endless series of other magnificent apartments—was gathered a brilliant company. Among the gold-trimmed and order-bedecked costumes of the men was occasionally seen the plain black attire of an attaché to some embassy, and not infrequently these soberly clad young men received quite as much attention from the ladies as did the cavaliers in gaudier array.

One such black-clothed figure seemed to be the object of unusual interest. His handsome face showed at once youth, high birth, and an air of modesty and refinement. A woman might well have envied him his large blue eyes, shaded by their long lashes; but his noble profile, finely cut lips, and tall and slender, although muscular and elastic, form betokened the early maturity of vigorous manhood.

A gentleman in a dazzling military uniform, with a diamond order on his breast and a silk sash extending over his shoulder and down to his hip, addressed the young man and linked his arm in his. He had known the youthful attaché's father, whom he esteemed as an able and highly gifted man, and he prophesied a yet more brilliant career for the son. As he drew him forth in his promenade, he told him to prepare to be presented to the grand-duchess.

It was a formidable ordeal for a young and unknown man, who had not even a uniform to brace his courage, to be summoned before one of the greatest ladies of the vast empire, in the presence of so many august dignitaries, and to be called upon to frame, on the instant, suitable replies to her questions, and perhaps to repay her gracious words with an improvised compliment or two.

But he stood the test, and many more beside. Dancing began, and on his arm floated one charming partner after another, each a type of beauty and grace. The lovely Princess Alexandra, only daughter of a Russian noble, a blonde beauty whose golden locks seemed to have been spun out of sunbeams, had whirled around the room twice on his arm when, as they again reached her seat, she gave him a stealthy pressure of the hand, as much as to say, "Once more!"—and so they danced around the hall a third time. It was a piece of boldness on her part that is seldom committed except out of wantonness or—love.

The youth bowed, and left his partner, feeling neither weariness nor any undue quickening of the pulse. There was a charm about him which lay in his calm, passionless bearing, and his unfailing self-control where other young men would have shown excitement. Royal pomp and splendour did not appeal to him, nor did beautiful eyes, sweet words, or the secret pressure of a fair hand rob him of his self-possession.

When midnight had struck and the orchestras in the various rooms were all playing national airs, as a signal that the grand-duchess was about to retire to her private apartments, the black-clothed young man hurried into the malachite hall, and reached for a glass of sherbet from the tray which a servant was bearing around the room. Suddenly, however, some one pulled his hand away, and said: "Don't drink that!"

The young man turned, and for the first time that evening a smile of genuine pleasure lighted up his face.

"Ah, is it you, Leonin?" he exclaimed.

Leonin was a young officer of the guard in tightly fitting uniform, a muscular young fellow with full face, carefully kept blond mustache and side-whiskers, and thick blond eyebrows which went well with his keen and animated gray eyes.

"I thought I had lost you in the dancing-hall," said he, with friendly reproach in his tone.

"I was dancing with your betrothed. Didn't you see me? She is a charming girl."

"Charming indeed; but how does that help matters for me? I can't marry her till I am of age and wear rosettes on my epaulets; and that won't be for two years yet. A man can't live all that time on a pair of beautiful eyes. Come with me."

The other hesitated. "I am not sure whether we ought to run away so early," said he.

"But don't you hear the bands playing the national hymns?" asked his companion. "Besides, we can slip out through the rear door; a sleigh is waiting for me there with my furs. Surely you haven't any more engagements with the wax dolls here?"

"Yes, I have," was the reply; "I am down for a quadrille with the Princess N——, to whom I was just now presented."

"Oh, I beg you, have nothing to do with her," urged the young officer. "She will only make sport of you, as she does of all the others. Come with me."

"Whither do you wish to take me?"

"To the infernal regions. Are you afraid to follow?"

"Not at all."

"Will you come with me to paradise, too, if I ask you?"

"With all my heart."

"And if I invite you to a stuffy little inn on Kamennoi Island, where the sailors are having a dance, will you come?"

"Yes, anywhere you please; it's all one to me."

"Good! That's what I like." And Leonin embraced his friend, after which he led him forth from the marble palace by passages known to himself. Once in the open air, they ran in their light ball-room costumes to the bank of the Neva, where a sleigh awaited their coming, wrapped themselves in warm furs, and in a moment were speeding across the ice behind two fleet horses, to the silvery music of tinkling bells.

These two young men were the Russian noble, Leonin Ramiroff, and Ödön, eldest son of the house of Baradlay.

As the sleigh glided along the moonlit row of palaces, Ödön remarked to his companion that they were not going in the direction of Kamennoi Island.

"Nor do we wish to," returned Leonin.

"Why, then, did you say we were going thither?"

"So that no one should by any possibility overhear our real destination."

"And what, pray, may that be?"

"You can see for yourself: we are on the Petrofski Prospect, headed straight for Petrofski Island."

"But there's nothing there except hemp factories and sugar refineries."

"You are right; and we are going to call on a sugar-boiler."

"I have no objection," returned Ödön, wrapping his mantle more closely about him, and leaning back in his seat. Possibly he even went to sleep.

Half an hour later the sleigh crossed the Neva again, and drew up before a red building at the end of a long park. Leonin aroused his companion.

"Here we are," said he.

All the windows of the long factory were lighted up, and as the two young men entered, they were greeted by that unsavoury odour peculiar to sugar refineries, and suggestive of anything but sugar. A smooth-faced man of sleek appearance advanced to meet them, and asked them in French what they wished.

"To see the sugar works," answered Leonin.

"Only the factory, or the refinery as well?" asked the Frenchman.

"Only the