ek. They give me
warmth at my heart as I think how they shall free Holy Russia."

There was a stir of dismay in the dark office. The comrades, though
willing to risk death at the Volga Bridge, were horrified by
Kojukhov's tapping of the iron bombs together, and all rose in fear of
their explosion, all except Verbitzsky and me.

"For God's sake, be more careful, Boris!" said my friend.

"Oh, you're afraid, too?" said Kojukhov. "Pah! you cowards of the
Peace Section!" He tapped the bombs together again.

"I _am_ afraid," said Verbitzsky. "Why should I die for your reckless
folly? Will any good happen if you explode the bombs here? You will
but destroy all of us, and our friends the watchmen, and the
freight-sheds containing the property of many worthy people."

"You are a fool, Verbitzsky!" said his cousin. "Come here. Whisper."

Something Boris then whispered in my comrade's ear. When Verbitzsky
spoke again his voice seemed calmer.

"Let me feel the shape," he said.

"Here," said Boris, as if handing something to Verbitzsky.

At that moment the outer door of the freight-shed resounded with a
heavy blow. The next blow, as from a heavy maul, pounded the door
open.

"The police!" shouted Boris. "They must have dogged you, Alexander,
for they don't suspect me." He dashed out of the dark office into the
great dark shed.

As we all ran forth, glancing at the main door about seventy feet
distant, we saw a squad of police outlined against the moonlit sky
beyond the great open space of railway yard. My eyes were dazzled by a
headlight that one of them carried. By that lamp they must have seen
us clearly; for as we started to run away down the long shed they
opened fire, and I stumbled over Boris Kojukhov, as he fell with a
shriek.

Rising, I dodged aside, thinking to avoid bullets, and then dashed
against a bale of wool, one of a long row. Clambering over it, I
dropped beside a man crouching on the other side.

"Michael, is it you?" whispered Verbitzsky.

"Yes. We're lost, of course?"

"No. Keep still. Let them pass."

The police ran past us down the middle aisle left between high walls
of wool bales. They did not notice the narrow side lane in which we
were crouching.

"Come. I know a way out," said Verbitzsky. "I was all over here this
morning, looking round, in case we should be surprised to-night."

"What's this?" I whispered, groping, and touching something in his
hand.

"Kojukhov's bombs. I have th