house.

"Ah!" they cried, "a good hiding-place this! But the wall was hollow,
and revealed the door!" and next moment we saw the figures of men.

"Well, my pretty!" exclaimed a big, leering Cossack, chucking the
trembling girl beneath the chin.

"Hold!" I commanded the half-dozen men who now stood before us, their
swords red with the life-blood of the Revolution. But before I could
utter further word the poor girl was wrenched from my grasp, and the
Cossack was smothering her face with his hot nauseous kisses.

"Hold, I tell you!" I shouted. "Release her, or it is at your own
peril!"

"Hulloa!" they laughed. "Who are you?"--and one of the men raised his
sword to strike me, whilst another held him back, exclaiming, "Let us
hear what he has to say!"

"Then listen!" I said, drawing from my pocket book a folded paper. "Read
this, and look well at the signature. I am a British subject, and this
girl is under my protection!"--and I handed to the man who held little
Luba in his arms my permit to travel hither and thither in Russia, which
the Ambassador in London had signed for me.

The men, astounded at my announcement, read the document beneath the
lamp-light and took counsel among themselves.

"And who, pray, is this Jewess?" inquired one.

"My affianced wife," was my quick reply. "And I command you at once to
take us under safe conduct to General Krasiloff--quickly, without delay.
We took refuge in this place from the Revolution, in which we have taken
no part."

I saw, however, with sinking heart, that one of the men was examining
the bomb-maker's bench, and had recognised the character of what
remained there.

He looked at us, smiled grimly, and whispered something to one of his
companions.

Again in an authoritative tone I demanded to be taken to Krasiloff, and
presently, after being marched as prisoners across the town, past scenes
so horrible that they are still vividly before my eyes, we were taken
into the chief police-office, where the hated official, a fat red-faced
man in a general's uniform--the man without pity or remorse, the
murderer of women and children--was sitting at a table. He greeted me
with a grunt.

"General," I said, addressing him, "I have to present to you this order
of your Ambassador, and to demand safe conduct. Your soldiers found me
and my----"

I hesitated.

"Your pretty Jewess--eh?"--and a smile of sarcasm spread over his fat
face. "Well, go on"--and he took the paper I h