pers to Washington and planning to start for
England on a wretched little packet-boat, in utter contempt of mines,
U-boats, and the icy menace of the North Sea.

As for the others, Estridge decided to cable and await orders in
Copenhagen; Palla, to sail for home on the first available Danish
steamer; Ilse, to go to Stockholm and eventually decide whether to
volunteer once more as a soldier of the proletariat or to turn
propagandist and carry the true gospel to America, where, she had
heard, the ancient liberties of the great Democracy were becoming
imperilled.

The day before they parted company, these four people, so oddly thrown
together out of the boiling cauldron of the Russian Terror, arranged
to dine together for the last time.

Theirs were the appetites of healthy wolves; theirs was the thirst of
the marooned on waterless islands; and theirs, too, was the feverish
gaiety of those who had escaped great peril by land and sea; and who
were still physically and morally demoralized by the glare and the
roar of the hellish conflagration which was still burning up the world
around them.

So they met in a private dining room of the hotel for dinner on the
eve of separation.

Brisson and Estridge had resurrected from their luggage the remains of
their evening attire; Ilse and Palla had shopped; and they now
included in a limited wardrobe two simple dinner gowns, among more
vital purchases.

There were flowers on the table, no great variety of food but plenty
of champagne to make up--a singular innovation in apology for short
rations conceived by the hotel proprietor.

There was a victrola in the corner, too, and this they kept going to
stimulate their nerves, which already were sufficiently on edge
without the added fillip of music and champagne.

"As for me," said Brisson, "I'm in sight of nervous dissolution
already;--I'm going back to my wife and children, thank God--" he
smiled at Palla. "I'm grateful to the God you don't believe in, dear
little lady. And if He is willing, I'll report for duty in two weeks."
He turned to Estridge:

"What about you?"

"I've cabled for orders but I have none yet. If they're through with
me I shall go back to New York and back to the medical school I came
from. I hate the idea, too. Lord, how I detest it!"

"Why?" asked Palla nervously.

"I've had too much excitement. You have too--and so have Ilse and
Brisson. I'm not keen for the usual again. It bores me to contemplate