"If  you  are  indeed  Gustave  Berger,"  said  Petro-
kine,  "who  is  this?"

"That  I  am  Gustave  Berger  these  credentials  will
show,"  said  the  stranger,  as  he  threw  a  packet  upon
the  table.  "Who  that  man  may  be  I  know  not ;  but  if
he  has  intruded  himself  upon  the  lodge  under  false
pretences,  it  is  clear  that  he  must  never  carry  out  of
the  room  what  he  has  learned.  Speak,  sir,"  he  added,
addressing  me ;  "who  and  what  are  you  ?"

I  felt  that  my  time  had  come.  My  revolver  was  in
my  hip-pocket;  but  what  was  that  against  so  many
desperate  men  ?  I  grasped  the  butt  of  it,  however,  as
a  drowning  man  clings  to  a  straw,  and  I  tried  to  pre-
serve my  coolness  as  I  glanced  round  at  the  cold,  vin-
dictive faces  turned  toward  me.
A  NIGHT  AMONG  THE  NIHILISTS.  249

"Gentlemen,"  I  said,  "the  role  I  have  played  to-
night has  been  a  purely  involuntary  one  on  my  part.
I  am  no  police  spy,  as  you  seem  to  suspect ;  nor,  on  the
other  hand,  have  I  the  honor  to  be  a  member  of  your
association.  I  am  an  inoffensive  corn-dealer,  who  by
an  extraordinary  mistake  has  been  forced  into  this
unpleasant  and  awkward  position."

I  paused  for  a  moment.  Was  it  my  fancy  that
there  was  a  peculiar  noise  in  the  street — a  noise  as  of
many  feet  treading  softly  ?  No,  it  had  died  away ;  it
was  but  the  throbbing  of  my  own  heart.
"I  need  hardly  say,"  I  continued,  "that  anything
I  may  have  heard  to-night  will  be  safe  in  my  keeping.
