"And how did you get through the journey?"

"Not badly. I discovered at once in the train a young Slav assigned
to kill me, and I reached an understanding with him. He was a
charming youth, so it was easily arranged."

Rouletabille was eating away now at strange viands that it would
have been difficult for him to name. Matrena Petrovna laid her fat
little hand on his arm:

"You speak seriously?"

"Very seriously."

"A small glass of vodka?"

"No alcohol."

Madame Matrena emptied her little glass at a draught.

"And how did you discover him? How did you know him?"

"First, he wore glasses. All Nihilists wear glasses when traveling.
And then I had a good clew. A minute before the departure from
Paris I had a friend go into the corridor of the sleeping-car, a
reporter who would do anything I said without even wanting to know
why. I said, 'You call out suddenly and very loud, "Hello, here is
Rouletabille."' So he called, 'Hello, here is Rouletabille,' and
all those who were in the corridor turned and all those who were