know. Do you think the bridges will be up? My mother
will be so terribly anxious."

"Oh, you'll get home all right," answered Burrows cheerfully. "Just wait
until this crowd has gone by. I don't expect there's any fuss down by
the river..."

His words were cut short by some order from one of the fellows below.
Others shouted in response, and the lorries again began to move forward.

"I believe he was shouting to us," said Bohun. "It sounded like 'Get
off' or 'Get away.'"

"Not he!" said Burrows; "they're too busy with their own affairs."

Then things happened quickly. There was a sudden strange silence below;
I saw a quick flame from some fire that had apparently been lit on the
Fontanka Bridge; I heard the same voice call out once more sharply, and
a second later I felt rather than heard a whizz like the swift flight of
a bee past my ear; I was conscious that a bullet had struck the brick
behind me. That bullet swung me into the Revolution....

IX

...We were all gathered together in the office. I heard one of the
Russians say in an agitated whisper, "Don't turn on the light!... Don't
turn on the light! They can see!"

We were all in half-darkness, our faces mistily white. I could hear
Peroxide breathing in a tremulous manner, as though in a moment she
would break into hysteria.

"We'll go into the inside room. We can turn the light on there," said
Burrows. We all passed into the reception-room of the office, a nice
airy place with the library along one wall and bright coloured maps on
the other. We stood together and considered the matter.

"It's real!" said Burrows, his red, cheery face perplexed and strained.
"Who'd have thought it?"

"Of course it's real!" cried Bohun impatiently (Burrows' optimism had
been often difficult to bear with indulgence).

"Now you see! What about your beautiful Russian mystic now?"

"Oh dear!" cried the little Russian typist. "And my mother!... What ever
shall I do? She'll hear reports and think that I'm being murdered. I
shall never get across."

"You'd better stay with me to-night, Miss Peredonov," said Peroxide
firmly. "My flat's quite close here in Gagarinsky. We shall be delighted
to have you."

"You can telephone to your mother, Miss Peredonov," said Burrows. "No
difficulty at all."

It was then that Bohun took me aside.

"Look here!" he said. "I'm worried. Vera and Nina were going to the
Astoria to have tea with Semyonov this afternoon. I should think the