old regime rather than have a Constitution like
that of England or America forced upon them. Hence there is no real
difference of principle between the Bolshevik and the supporters of the
old regime, only a difference as to who should wield the power. For the
moment they let this minor point slip into the background, and combined
for the destruction of the man who was the enemy of both.

About midnight, December 23, Russian Headquarters gave me the alarm.
Shots were being fired in all directions, and a spent bullet struck my
carriage while I was getting into my clothes. Horsemen in little groups
were surrounding the Staffka without much sign of order. Having
inspected my battalion at their emergency quarters, I called for a
personal guard to escort me to Headquarters. I regret there was no
impressionist artist with us to record the weird procession my guard
made. When sheepskin coats were provided for my men for use in a cold,
snowbound country, it is a real English touch that they should have been
black in colour, making my men a perfect target both night and day.
Their fur caps were a dark brown of the well-known Nansen type, the
half-moon peak making the head of the wearer a good mark at midnight up
to 300 yards. The cap is pointed, and has much the appearance at night
of a small mitre. What with huge fur boots, black pointed caps, and long
black coats, there was nothing to indicate the British Tommy in the line
of black monks that moved silently forward over the frozen snow. The
temperature was such that as the slight wind brought the water to one's
eyes the drops froze to hard white spots of ice at the corners. Breath
from the nostrils froze before it could leave the nose, and from each
nostril hung icicles, in some cases 2 inches long, which again froze to
the moustache. The eyebrows and eyelashes and the protruding fur edge
which enclosed the faces of the men carried a wonderful display of hoar
frost, and gave the appearance of white lace frills, such as are seen on
"granny's" caps.

As we entered the Russian Headquarters, which were crowded with more or
less excited officers and men, my guard lined up on each side of the
vestibule, and without a word proceeded to unsling rifles and fix
bayonets. The Russians, who were even now debating on which side they
were going to slide down, looked at my soldier monks, and at once
themselves fell into line. There was no longer any hesitation. "Anglisky
soldats" were in pos