his voice--

"In the Master's name, take those men prisoners! Their fate will be
decided to-morrow. Forward a company of the First Division; your
lives will answer for theirs!"

As the Chief ended his brief address to the victorious troops ten
men, armed with revolver and sword, stepped forward, each followed by
ten others armed with rifle and fixed bayonet, and immediately formed
in a hollow square round the Tsar and his Staff. This summary
proceeding proved too much for the outraged dignity of the fallen
Autocrat, and he stepped forward and cried out passionately--

"What is this? Is not my surrender enough? Have we not fought with
civilised enemies, that we are to be treated like felons in the hour
of defeat?"

Tremayne raised his sword and cried sharply, "To the ready!" and
instantly the prisoners were encircled by a hedge of levelled
bayonets and rifle-barrels charged with death. Then he went on, in
stern commanding tones--

"Silence there! We do not recognise what you call the usages of
civilised warfare. You are criminals against humanity, assassins by
wholesale, and as such you shall be treated."

There was nothing for it but to submit to the indignity, and within a
few minutes the Tsar and those who with him had essayed the
enslavement of the world were lodged in separate rooms in the
building under a strong guard to await the fateful issue of the
morrow.

The rest of the night was occupied in digging huge trenches for the
burial of the almost innumerable dead, a task which, gigantic as it
was, was made light by the work of hundreds of thousands of willing
hands. Those of the invaders who had fallen in London itself were
taken down the Thames on the ebb tide in fleets of lighters, towed by
steamers, and were buried at sea. Happily it was midwinter, and the
temperature remained some degrees below freezing point, and so the
great city was saved from what in summer would infallibly have
brought pestilence in the track of war.

At twelve o'clock on the following day the vast interior of St.
Paul's Cathedral was thronged with the anxious spectators of the last
scene in the tremendous tragedy which had commenced with the
destruction of Kronstadt by the _Ariel_, and which had culminated in
the triumph of Anglo-Saxondom over the leagued despotism and
militarism of Europe.

At a long table draped with red cloth, and placed under the dome in
front of the chancel steps, sat Natas, with Tremayne and Natasha o