bed, were built into
a barricade. Already, however, their movements were accompanied by the
sound of voices and the trampling of feet in the hall outside. Ivan
realized that the combat was about to recommence; and he was moving
vaguely towards the group of students when Sergius seized him by the
shoulder and drew him across to the door of the other room. As they went
he sketched, in three or four vivid sentences the events following the
shooting of Ternoff: the finding of the pistol-dealer, who had put the
police upon the assassin's track; Burevsky's fugitive week; Irina's
escape; the sudden discovery of the arrangements for Burevsky's
departure an hour ago; then the return flight from the station to their
own quarter, ending in this final stand. Now they were in the back room,
and Ivan listened, dully, while Sergius explained that he might escape
even yet, by means of the rear window and a rope, which he drew from
behind the porcelain stove and put into Ivan's hands. Then came one word
of regret and farewell. The door was slammed upon him and he heard the
bolt upon the other side shot home.

Instantly Ivan, roused too late, sprang after his friend and began
beating furiously upon the door, calling to be admitted. In vain. His
words were completely drowned in the furious clamor now rising from the
hall beyond. Shot after shot rang out, punctuating sharply the fierce,
steady pounding at the barricade, and the low, dull, but intensely
penetrating murmur of the crowd gathering about the house in street and
alley. Once again, listening, calculating possibilities, Ivan stood
motionless, horror in his eyes, chaos in his brain. How long the fight
beyond him endured he had no idea. Very suddenly, however, the clamor
ceased, and, out of the silence, rose the tones of a deep, official
voice, repeating the formal sentences of accusation and arrest. These
were given but three times; and the names were those of Lihnoff,
Stassov, and Feodor Lemsky. In his heart Ivan realized at once the
reason for this; but the pangs of grief in him came as no surprise. What
he now did seemed natural to him. To the prisoners in the outer room it
was wanton madness. They, and the policemen who were still working upon
the ruins of the barricade, heard the sound of sharp rapping on the
inner door. An officer, uttering an exclamation, ran to it and
unfastened the bolt. The next instant Ivan walked quietly into the
wrecked room, and gazed about him at th