. You
need wine and women. . . . Scoundrels! Brutes! . . . One hundred fifty
tashur for every man of you."

The voice fell to a whisper.

"And you, Mesdames, do you not realize the ruin of your people? No? For
you it is of no moment. And have you no feeling for your husbands at
the front who may even now be killed? You are not women. . . . I honor
woman, who feels more deeply and strongly than man; but you are not
women! . . . Listen to me, Mesdames. Once more and I will hang
you. . . ."

He came back to the car and himself sounded the horn several times.
Immediately Mongol horsemen galloped up.

"Take these men to the Commandant. I will send my orders later."

On the way to the Baron's yurta we were silent. He was excited and
breathed heavily, lighting cigarette after cigarette and throwing them
aside after but a single puff or two.

"Take supper with me," he proposed.

He also invited his Chief of Staff, a very retiring, oppressed but
splendidly educated man. The servants spread a Chinese hot course for
us followed by cold meat and fruit compote from California with
the inevitable tea. We ate with chopsticks. The Baron was greatly
distraught.

Very cautiously I began speaking of the offending officers and tried to
justify their actions by the extremely trying circumstances under which
they were living.

"They are rotten through and through, demoralized, sunk into the
depths," murmured the General.

The Chief of Staff helped me out and at last the Baron directed him to
telephone the Commandant to release these gentlemen.

The following day I spent with my friends, walking a great deal about
the streets and watching their busy life. The great energy of the Baron
demanded constant nervous activity from himself and every one round him.
He was everywhere, seeing everything but never, interfering with the
work of his subordinate administrators. Every one was at work.

In the evening I was invited by the Chief of Staff to his quarters,
where I met many intelligent officers. I related again the story of my
trip and we were all chatting along animatedly when suddenly Colonel
Sepailoff entered, singing to himself. All the others at once became
silent and one by one under various pretexts they slipped out. He handed
our host some papers and, turning to us, said:

"I shall send you for supper a splendid fish pie and some hot tomato
soup."

As he left, my host clasped his head in desperation and said:

"With