that had intervened between them and starvation. Balked in one of
his desperate Nihilist schemes by Rosenblatt, who held a position
of trust under the Russian Government, he had sworn vengeance, and
escaping from Siberia, he had come to Canada to make good his oath.
And but for the timely appearance of the police, he would have
succeeded.

Meantime, Sergeant Cameron was receiving congratulations on all hands
for his cleverness in making the arrest of a man who had escaped the
vigilance of the Russian Police and Secret Service, said to be the
finest in all Europe. In his cell, the man, as good as condemned,
waited his trial, a stranger far from help and kindred, an object of
terror and of horror to many, of compassion to a few. But however men
thought of him, he had sinned against British civilisation, and would
now have to taste of British justice.




CHAPTER VII

CONDEMNED



The two months preceding the trial were months of restless agony to
the prisoner, Kalmar. Day and night he paced his cell like a tiger
in a cage, taking little food and sleeping only when overcome with
exhaustion. It was not the confinement that fretted him. The Winnipeg
jail, with all its defects and limitations, was a palace to some that