enched from my grasp, and the
Cossack was smothering her face with his hot, nauseous kisses.

"Hold, I tell you!" I shouted. "Release her, or it is at your own
peril!"

"Hulloa!" they laughed. "Who are you?" and one of the men raised his
sword to strike me, whilst another held him back, exclaiming, "Let us
hear what he has to say."

"Then, listen!" I said, drawing from my pocket-book a folded paper.
"Read this, and look well at the signature. This girl is under my
protection;" and I handed the document to the man who held little Luba
in his arms. It was only my Foreign Office passport, but I knew they
could not read English and that it was a formidable screed, with its
coat-of-arms and visa.

The men, astounded at my announcement, read what they took to be some
all-powerful ukase beneath the lamp-light, and took counsel among
themselves.

"And who, pray, is this Jewess?" inquired one.

"My affianced wife," was my quick reply. "And I command you at once to
take us under safe escort to General Krasiloff--quickly, without delay.
We took refuge in this place from the Revolution, in which we have taken
no part."

I saw, however, with sinking heart, that one of the men was examining
the bomb-maker's bench, and had recognised the character of what
remained there.

He looked at us, smiled grimly, and whispered smoothly to one of his
companions.

Again, in an authoritative tone, I demanded to be taken to Krasiloff;
and presently, after being marched as prisoners across the town, past
scenes so horrible that they are still vividly before my eyes, we were
taken into the chief police-office, where the hated official, a fat,
red-faced man in a general's uniform--the man without pity or remorse,
the murderer of women and children--was sitting at a table. He greeted
me with a grunt.

"General," I said, addressing him, "I have to present to you this order
of my sovereign, King Edward, and to demand safe conduct. Your soldiers
found me and my----"

I hesitated.

"Your pretty Jewess--eh?" and a smile of sarcasm spread over his fat
face. "Well, go on;" and he took the paper I handed him, knitting his
brows again as his eyes fell upon the Imperial arms and the signature.

"We were found in a cellar where we had hidden from the revolt," I said.

"The place has been used for the manufacture of bombs," declared one of
the Cossacks.

The General looked my pretty companion straight in the face.

"What is your name, girl?"