e the respectful citizens on either hand. But
there were no citizens. There was not a single witness to this triumph
of the greatest army the world had seen, led across Europe by the first
captain in all history to conquer a virgin capital.

The various corps marched to their quarters in silence, with nervous
glances at the shuttered windows. Some, breaking rank, ventured into the
churches which stood open. The candles were lighted on the altars, they
reported to their comrades in a hushed voice when they returned, but
there was no one there.

Certain palaces were selected as head-quarters for the general officers
and the chiefs of various departments. As often as not a summons would
be answered and the door opened by an obsequious porter, who handed the
keys to the first-comer. But he spoke no French, and only cringed in
silence when addressed. Other doors were broken in.

It was like a play acted in dumb show on an immense stage. It was
disquieting and incomprehensible even to the oldest campaigner, while
the young fire-eaters, fresh from St. Cyr, were strangely depressed
by it. There was a smell of sour smoke in the air, a suggestion of
inevitable tragedy.

On the Krasnaya Ploschad--the great Red Square, which is the central
point of the old town--the soldiers were already buying and selling the
spoil wrested from the burning Exchange. It seemed that the citizens
before leaving had collected their merchandise in this building to burn
it. To the rank-and-file this meant nothing but an incomprehensible
stupidity. To the educated and the thoughtful it was another evidence
of that dumb and sullen capacity for infinite self-sacrifice which makes
Russians different from any other race, and which has yet to be reckoned
with in the history of the world. For it will tend to the greatest good
of the greatest number, and is a power for national aggrandisement quite
unattainable by any Latin people.

Charles, with the other officers of Prince Eugene's staff, was quartered
in a palace on the Petrovka--that wide street running from the Kremlin
northward to the boulevards and the parks. Going towards it he passed
through the bazaars and the merchants' quarters, where, like an army of
rag-pickers, the eager looters were silently hurrying from heap to heap.
Every warehouse had, it seemed, been ransacked and its contents thrown
out into the streets. The first-comers had hurried on, seeking something
more valuable, more portable,