“Ah, yes,” interposed Bodlevski, “a propos!  I expect to be a member of the Yacht Club this summer.  Let me recommend to you a new field of action.  They will disport themselves on the green water, and we on the green cloth!  By the way, I forgot to speak of it—­I bought a boat the other day, a mere rowboat.  It is on the Fontauka Canal, at the Simeonovski bridge.  We must come for a row some day.”

“Delightful,” exclaimed the baroness.  “But why some day?  Why not to-night?  The moon is beautiful, and, indeed, it is hardly dark at midnight.  Your speaking of boats has filled me with a sudden desire to go rowing.  What do you say, dear count?” and she turned amiably to Kallash.

Count Kallash at once consented, considering the baroness’s idea an admirable one, and they were soon on their way toward the Simeonovski bridge.

“How delightful it is!” cried the baroness, some half hour later, as they were gliding over the quiet water.  “Count, do you like strong sensations?” she asked suddenly.

“I am fond of strong sensations of every kind,” he replied, taking up her challenge.

“Well, I am going to offer you a little sensation, though it always greatly affects me.  Everything is just right for it, and I am in the humor, too.”

“What is it to be?” asked Count Kallash indifferently.

“You will see in a moment.  Do you know that there are underground canals in St. Petersburg?”

“In St. Petersburg?” asked Kallash in astonishment.

“Yes, in St. Petersburg!  A whole series of underground rivers, wide enough for a boat to pass through.  I have rowed along them several times.  Does not that offer a new sensation, something quite unlike St. Petersburg?”

“Yes, it is certainly novel,” answered Count Kallash, now interested.  “Where are they?  Pray show them to me.”

“There is one a few yards off.  Shall we enter?  You are not afraid?” she said with a smile of challenge.

“By no means—­unless you command me to be afraid,” Kallash replied in the same tone.  “Let us enter at once!”

“Kasimir, turn under the arch!” and the boat cut across the canal toward a half circle of darkness.  A moment more and the darkness engulfed them completely.  They were somewhere under the Admiralty, not far from St. Isaac’s Cathedral.  Away ahead of them was a tiny half circle of light, where the canal joined the swiftly flowing Neva.  Carriages rumbled like distant thunder above their heads.

“Deuce take it! it is really rather fine!” cried the count, with evident pleasure.  “A meeting of pirates is all we need to make it perfect.  It is a pity that we cannot see where we are!”

“Light a match.  Have you any?” said the baroness.

“I have, and wax matches, too.”  The count took out a match and lit it, and the underground stream was lit by a faint ruddy glow.  The channel, covered by a semi-circular arch, was just wide enough for one boat to pass through, with oars out.  The black water flowed silently by in a sluggish, Stygian stream.  Bats, startled by the light, fluttered in their faces, and then disappeared in the darkness.