"My poor little Olusha," he whispered.
"Courage, mon brave," said John Bull, patting him on the back. "We have a plan for you. As soon as your sister was discovered, we took her to Carmelita, with whom she will be quite safe for a while. Our idea is that she and Carmelita make and buy women's clothes for both of you, and that you escape as sisters. Since she made such a splendid boy, you ought to be able to become a fairly convincing girl. Légionnaire Mikhail Kyrilovitch will be looked for as a man—probably in uniform. By the time the hue and cry is over, and he is forgotten, everything will be ready for both of you, then one night you slip into Carmelita's café and, next day, two café-chantant girls who have been visiting Carmelita, walk coolly to the station and take train for Oran.… Rivoli can't tell on them and still keep in with Carmelita. He'll have to help—or pretend to."
Feodor Kyrilovitch was himself again—a cool and level-headed conspirator, accustomed to weighing chances, taking risks and facing dangers.
"Thanks, mon ami," he said. "I believe I owe you my sister's salvation.… There will be difficulties, and there are risks—but it is a plan."
"Seems fairly hopeful," replied the other. "Anyhow, we could think of nothing better."
"We might get to Oran," mused Feodor; "but where we can go from there, God knows. We daren't go to Paris again, and I doubt if we have a hundred and fifty roubles between us.… And we dare not write to friends in Russia."
"We've thought of that too, my boy," interrupted the Englishman. "My friend Rupert has money in
