n? Show him to us! Show the boy Ivan to us! Where
is he?"

In a small room on one of the higher floors a little group of women and
noblemen, all thoroughly frightened, were gathered about two boys. The
noise of the attack on the palace had come to their ears some time
before; they had seen from the windows the mutinous soldiers climbing
the walls and beating down the few loyal servants who had withstood
them. The din was growing more terrific every instant. It was the matter
of only a few minutes before the rioters would break into the room.

"We must decide at once, friends," said the Czarina Natalia. "If they
enter this room they'll not stop at killing any of us."

The smaller of the two boys, a sturdy lad of eleven years, spoke up:
"Let me go out on to the Red Staircase with Ivan, mother. When they see
that we are both here they'll be satisfied."

A dozen objections were raised by the frightened men and women of the
court. It was much too dangerous to trust the lives of the two boys to
the whim of such a maddened mob.

"Nevertheless Peter is right," said Natalia. "It's the only chance left
to us. They think I have done some harm to Ivan. The only way to prove
that false is for him to stand before them, and my son must go with
him."

The small boy who had spoken before took these words as final. "Come,
Ivan," said he, and took the other's hand in his. Ivan, a tall, delicate
boy, whose face was white with fear, gripped Peter's hand hard. He was
used to trusting implicitly to his half-brother, although the latter was
two years younger than he.

One of the noblemen opened the door, and the two boys went out of the
room and crossed the hall to the top of the great Red Staircase. They
looked down on the mob of soldiers who were gradually surging up the
stairs, brandishing swords and halberds, fighting among each other for
the possession of some treasure, and calling continually, "The Czar!
Where are the boys Ivan and Peter? Where are they?"

At first in their excitement no one noticed the two boys on the
stairway. Ivan, who was by nature timid, shrank away from their sight as
much as he could, but Peter, who was of a different make, stood out in
full view, and held fast to his brother's hand. He had inherited the
iron nerve of the strongest of his ancestors. He looked at the mutinous
rioters with bold, fearless eyes.

Presently a soldier caught sight of the younger boy and raised a cry
loud above the general din