"Ah! your Excellency. It is a pity you were not here yesterday," he said with a sigh.
"Why? Tell me quickly. What has happened?"
"I have been assisting the police as spy, Excellency, as I often do, and I have seen her."
"Seen her! Where?" I cried in quick anxiety.
"Here, in Abo. She arrived yesterday morning from Tammerfors accompanied by an Englishman. She had changed her dress, and was all in black. They lunched together at the Restaurant du Nord opposite the landing stage, and an hour later left by the steamer for Petersburg."
"An Englishman!" I cried. "Did you not inform the Chief of Police, Boranski?"
"Yes, your Excellency. But he said that their passports being in order it was better to allow the lady to proceed. To delay her might mean her re-arrest in Finland," he added.
"Then their passports were viséd here on embarking?" I exclaimed. "What was the name upon that of the Englishman?"
"I have it here written down, Excellency. I cannot pronounce your difficult English names." And he produced a scrap of dirty paper whereon was written in a Russian hand the name —
"Martin Woodroffe."
