"I will not leave without you," she said firmly.

"You'll all have to come or all have to stay," said the Englishman briskly. "We haven't any time to spare, and the train is now going on.

You see," he said apologetically, "it isn't our train at all, it belongs to the Polish Commission, and we're only running the food end of the negotiations. We have been fixing up terms between the Red Army and the Poles, and it is very irregular that we should take refugees from the country at all."

"_Go!_"

Malcolm heard the hoa.r.s.e whisper, and it was as much as he could do to stop himself looking up. He remembered the motor-car and Cherry's mysterious and providential appearance from the roof, and he could guess the rest.

"Very well, we will go. Come, Malinkoff, I will explain in the car,"

said Malcolm.

They lifted the girl into the carriage and the men followed. A shriek from the engine, a jerk of the cars, and the train moved on. Before the rear carriage had cleared the platform a car rocked into the station-yard, dashing through the frail wooden fencing on to the platform itself.

"_Stoi! Stoi!_"

Boolba stood up in the big touring car, his arms outstretched, the white bandage about his neck showing clearly in the car lights. Cherry Bim rose to his knees and steadied himself. Once, twice, three times he fired, and Boolba pitched over the side of the car dead.

"I had a feeling that we should meet again," said Cherry. "That's not a bad gun."

CHAPTER THE LAST

"All my life," said Cherry Bim, fondling his Derby hat affectionately, "I have been what is called by night-court reporters a human parricide."

He occupied a corner seat in the first-cla.s.s compartment which had been placed at the disposal of the party. To the Peace Commissioners in their saloon the fugitives had no existence. Officially they were not on the train, and the hot meal which came back to them from the Commissioner's own kitchenette was officially sent to "extra train-men," and was entered as such on the books of the chef.

The girl smiled. There was cause for happiness, for these dreary flats which were pa.s.sing the window were the flats of Poland.

"I have often thought, Mr. Bim, that you were a human angel!"

Cherry beamed.

"Why, that's what I was named after," he said. "Ain't you heard of the Cherry Bims? My sister Sarah was named the same way--you've heard of Sarah Bims?"

"Seraphims," laughed Malcolm; "true, it's near enough. But why this dissertation on your moral character, Cherry?"

"I'm only remarking," said Cherry, "I wouldn't like you gu--fellers to go away thinkin' that high-cla.s.s female society hadn't brought about a change in what I would describe, for want of a better word, as my outlook."

"All our outlooks have been shaken up," said the girl, laying her hand on Cherry's arm.

"I am a Grand d.u.c.h.ess of Russia and you are--you are----"

"Yes, I'm that," said Cherry, helping her out. "I'm one of nature's extractors. But I'm through. I hate the idea of workin' and maybe I won't have to, because I've got enough of the--well, any way, I've got enough."

Malcolm slapped him on the knee.

"You've brought more from Russia than we have, Cherry," he said.

"But not the greatest prize." It was the silent Malinkoff who spoke.

"Highness, is there no way of recovering your father's fortune?"

She shook her head.

"It is gone," she said quietly, "and if Russia were pacified to-morrow I should be poor--you know that, Malcolm!"

He nodded.

"I have not even," she smiled, "poor Israel Kensky's wonderful book."

"I was a careless fool," growled Malcolm, "when we struck the road I was so intent upon getting to the auto that I did not realize the book had dropped out. We hadn't a second to lose," he explained for the third time to Cherry. "The soldiers were searching in the yard when Malinkoff found the breach in the wall. I hated leaving you----"

"Aw!" said the disgusted Cherry. "Ain't we settled that? Didn't I hear you tellin' Percy--and say, is it true that the young lady is--is broke?"

"'Broke' is exactly the word," she said cheerfully. "I am going to be a nice Scottish wife and live within my husband's means--why, Cherry?"

He had a book in his hand--the "Book of All-Power."

"Where----?"

"Found it on the road," he said. "I broke the lock an' tore out a couple of leaves to light a flare. I wanted to flag the train--but I've got 'em--the leaves, I mean."

"You found it?"

She reached out her hand for the volume, but he did not give it to her.

"I can't read Russian," he said. "What does this say?" and he pointed to the inscription on the cover, and she read, translating as she went on:

"THE BOOK OF ALL-POWER

"Herein is the magic of power and the words and symbols which unlock the sealed hearts of men and turn their proud wills to water."

Cherry was silent.

"That's a lie," he said quietly, "for it didn't turn my will to water--take it, miss!"

She took it from his hand, wondering, and turned the broken cover. She could not believe her eyes ... and turned the leaves quickly. Every page was a Bank of England note worth a thousand pounds.

"That was how Kensky kept his money evidently," said Malinkoff. "In such troublesome times as the Jews pa.s.sed through, he must have thought it safest to convert his property into English money, and when he had reached the limit of his h.o.a.rd he bound the notes into a book."

The girl turned her bewildered face to Cherry.