. "There is the boy Peter, but where is Ivan?
The Czar! The Czar!"

A score of voices took up the cry as all eyes were turned on the
landing, and many men started up the stairs. "There is Peter, but where
is the boy Ivan?" came the deafening chorus.

"Ivan is here with me," said Peter, his voice clear and high. He tried
to pull Ivan nearer to him so that the men might see him. "Stand up
where they can see you, Ivan!" he begged. "There's nothing to be afraid
of. They only want to see their new Czar."

Trembling with fear the older boy, who had inherited all the weakness of
his race, and none of its strength, was finally induced to step close to
Peter. So, side by side, their hands clasped, the two looked down on the
crowded stairway, and faced the mob of soldiers. They made a strange
picture, two small boys, standing quite alone, fronting that sea of
passionate, angry faces.

At sight of Ivan another cry arose. "There's the Czar! Hail Ivan! Hail
the son of the great Alexis!"

For a moment the onward rush of the mob was checked, but only for a
moment. Three or four soldiers started up the stairs, their lances
pointed at Peter, shouting, "What shall we do with the son of the false
woman Natalia?" They came so close to the boy that their spears almost
touched him before they stopped. Had he turned to run no one can say
what might have happened, but he did not turn, he did not even draw back
nor show a single sign of fear.

"I am the son of the Czar Alexis also, and I am not afraid of any of
you!"

The boy's calm eyes fronted the nearest soldiers steadily. The men heard
his words and hesitated.

"Peter, the son of Alexis, is not afraid of his own father's guards!"
the boy continued. "That is why I came out here when you called me."

In the hush that had followed his first words his voice carried clear to
all the crowding men. When he finished there came a silence, and then of
a sudden cheer on cheer rose on the stairs and through the hall. "Peter,
the son of Alexis! Hail Peter! Hail the two boy Czars!"

The nearest soldiers dropped the points of their spears and joined in
the shouting. A flush came into the younger boy's face and he smiled,
and squeezed Ivan's hand tighter. He knew that the danger had passed.

Slowly the soldiers who had climbed nearest to the boys drew back down
the stairs. Swords were returned to scabbards, harsh voices grew
quieter, and within a quarter of an hour the Red Staircase and the gr