. Not a man of the whole Russian army was left alive, save
those whose knot of red ribbon at the button-hole proclaimed them
members of the International.

As soon as it was light enough for Arnold to see clearly that the
fate of the Russians was finally decided, he descended to the earth,
and, after complimenting the commander and officers of the Federation
troops on the splendid effectiveness of their force, and their
admirable discipline and coolness, he gave orders for a two hours'
rest and then a march on the Russian headquarters at Muswell Hill
with every available man. The Tsar and his Staff were to be taken
alive at all hazards; every other Russian who did not wear the
International ribbon was to be shot down without mercy.

These orders given, the _Ithuriel_ mounted into the air again, and
disappeared in the direction of London. She passed over the now
shattered and silent entrenchments of the Russians at a speed which
made it possible to remain on deck without discomfort or danger, and
at an elevation of two thousand feet. Natas was below in the saloon,
alone with his own thoughts, the thoughts of twenty years of waiting
and working and gradual approach to the hour of vengeance which was
now so near. Andrew Smith was steering in the wheel-house, Lieutenant
Marston was taking his watch below, after being on deck nearly the
whole of the previous night, and Arnold and Natasha, wrapped in their
warm furs, were pacing up and down the deck engaged in conversation
which had not altogether to do with war.

The sun had risen before the _Ithuriel_ passed over London, and
through the clear, cold air they could see with their field-glasses
signs of carnage and destruction which made Natasha's soul sicken
within her to gaze upon them, and even shook Arnold's now hardened
nerves. All the main thoroughfares leading into London from the north
and south were choked with heaps of dead bodies in Russian, French,
and Italian uniforms, in the midst of which those who still survived
were being forced forward by the pressure of those behind. Every
house that remained standing was spouting flames upon them from its
windows; and where the streets opened into squares and wider streets
there were barricades manned with British and Federation troops, and
from their summits and loopholes the quick-firing guns were raining
an incessant hail of shot and shell upon the struggling masses pent
up in the streets.

A horrible chorus of the