bradzye" game in each hospital ward visited in Russia,
and the din of the "wow wow wow-wow wow-ings" reverberating through
these halls seemed strangely out of place amidst surroundings of gloom
and suffering, where many a poor fellow was nearing his end. Our
acting Consul-General came to pay me a visit at the palace, and we had
a long talk about the internal conditions of Russia, of which he took
none too rosy a view; distrust and discontent were growing apace, he
implied, for the Court was entirely out of touch with the people, and
the Government seemed to be going the way of the Court. On the night
that we were leaving we were taken to the ballet at the Opera House,
and we went straight from the theatre to board the train, which left
about midnight for Petrograd.

There we found Hanbury-Williams putting up at the Astoria, and I was
able to have several conversations with him and also with Sir G.
Buchanan and Colonel Blair, our Assistant Military Attache. From what
I gathered from them and observations during the trip, it would be
safe to report to the War Office that from the military point of view
the outlook in Russia was distinctly promising. Even if there was
little prospect of anything of real importance being effected on the
Eastern Front this year, we might reasonably reckon upon the immense
forces of the empire, adequately fitted out with rifles, machine-guns,
field-artillery and ammunition, and with some heavy guns and howitzers
to help, performing a dominant role in the campaign of 1917. And yet
all was not well. The political conditions, if not exactly ominous,
gave grounds for anxiety. The dim shadow of coming events was already
being cast before. The internal situation required watching, and it
was on the cards that the influence of the Allies might have to be
thrown into the scale in order to prevent a dire upheaval.

While at the capital on this occasion we paid a visit to the British
hospital, occupying a palace on the Nevski Prospekt, which was under
the management of Lady Sybil Grey. The most interesting patient in
this admirably appointed institution was a sturdy little lad of about
fourteen, who had been to the front, had got hit with a bullet, and
had been converted into a sergeant. He was evidently made much of,
accompanying us round as a sort of assistant Master of the Ceremonies,
and he seemed to be having a good time; but he complained, so we were
given to understand, that the nurses would in