"Yes, Excellency, but I bored one at the bottom also."
"Oh, very well, we can easily stop the one at the top. Have you fastened the window? for the first thing these English do is to open a window."
"The window is securely fastened, your Excellency, unless he breaks the glass."
"Oh, he will not think of doing that until it is too late. The English are a law-abiding people. How many other passengers are there in the car?"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Excellency, the Room B has been taken by an English lady, who is there now."
"Ten thousand devils!" cried the Russian in a hoarse whisper. "Why did you not say that before?"
The voices now fell to so low a murmur that Jennie could not distinguish the words spoken. A moment later there was a rap at her door, and she had presence of mind enough to get in the further corner, and say in a sleepy voice,--
"_Votre billet, s'il vous plaît, madame."_
The conductor merely repeated his question, and as Jennie was shaking her head the big Russian looked over the conductor's shoulder and said in passable English,--
"He is asking for your ticket, madam. Do you not speak French?" In answer to this direct question Jennie, fumbling in her purse for her ticket, replied,--
"I speak English, and I have already shown him my ticket." She handed her broad-sheet sleeping-car ticket to the Russian, who had pushed the conductor aside and now stood within the compartment.
"There has been a mistake," he said. "Room C is the one that has been reserved for you."
"I am sure there isn't any mistake," said Jennie. "I booked berths 5 and 6. See, there are the numbers," pointing to the metallic plates by the door, "and here are the same numbers on the ticket."
"The mistake has been made at the office of the Sleeping Car Company. I am a director of the Company."
"Oh, are you?" asked Jennie innocently. "Is Room C as comfortable as this one?"
"It is a duplicate of this one, madam, and is more comfortable, because it is nearer the centre of the car."
"Well, there is no mistake about my reserving the two berths, is there?"
"Oh, no, madam, the room is entirely at your disposal."
"Well, then, in that case," said Jennie, "I have no objection to making a change."
She knew that she would be compelled to change, no matter what her ticket recorded, so she thought it best to play the simple maiden abroad, and make as little fuss as possible about the transfer. She had to rearrange the car in her mind. She was now in Room C, which had been first reserved by the British Embassy. It was evident that at the last moment the messenger had decided to take Room A, a four-berth compartment at the end of the car. The police then would occupy Room B, which she had first engaged, and, from the bit of conversation she had overheard, Jennie was convinced that they intended to kill or render insensible the messenger who bore the important letter. The police were there not to protect, but to attack. This amazing complication in the plot concentrated all the girl's sympathies on the unfortunate man who was messenger between two great personages, even though he travelled apparently under the protection of the British Embassy at St. Petersburg. The fact, to put it baldly, that she had intended to rob him herself, if opportunity occurred, rose before her like an accusing ghost. "I shall never undertake anything like this again," she cried to herself, "never, never," and now she resolved to make reparation to the man she had intended to injure. She would watch for him until he came down the passage, and then warn him by relating what she had heard. She had taken off her hat on entering the room; now she put it on hurriedly, thrusting a long pin through it. As she stood up, there was a jolt of the train that caused her to sit down again somewhat hurriedly. Passing her window she saw the lights of the station; the train was in motion. "Thank Heaven!" she cried fervently, "he is too late. Those plotting villains will have all their trouble for nothing."