The Russian family were delighted to see us, and extended what hospitalities they could, generously and graciously. They advised us to leave Berlin by the afternoon train, as the revolutionary storm which was obviously brewing was expected to burst blood-red that day. “I will see you to the station, then I shall not leave the house again.” A nephew entering at this time, he undertook charge of us. As we stood on the platform of the tram, there tore alongside of us a motor-car, driven furiously, and full of soldiers and sailors who bombarded us with copies of the revolutionary paper, the _Rote Fahne_ (Red Flag), and with leaflets making call for a great mass meeting of the Spartacusbund. I secured a copy. Among the named speakers were Rosa Luxemburg, Liebknecht, Levi, Duncker.[1] Arrived at the Gorlitzer Station, we found that there would be no train till evening, and at our guide’s suggestion we three drank chocolate--at five marks for three cups, including a 50-pfennig tip to the waiter--and listened to the melancholy music in the great café which used to be called the “Piccadilly,” but which at the outbreak of the war was renamed “Das Vaterland.” Returning to the station, we decided that our friend had best make purchase of the tickets, to prevent possible conflict. While we waited there leapt upon us an aggressive young woman. “Are you English officers?” she demanded. “We are,” said we. “Thank God for that!” she cried. “I’m English too, though I’m married to a German; and I love my country better than I love my husband, and think I shall come home!” As this presented a marital problem too profound for our plumbing, we made the pretext of our friend’s return with the tickets to beat a hasty retreat. We arrived back in Beeskow about ten o’clock, rang the bell and demanded admittance as good and dutiful _Gefangenen_. The _Posten_ opened the gate, and when he beheld us twain he very decidedly and indubitably closed a knowing eye! FREEDOM AND FAREWELL _It has come at last!_ And now that it has at last come it has not brought that immediate and amazing emotion of exultation which we had imagined and anticipated so long. We are leaving for _Home_--_To-day_--in a few hours! The brain receives the message, grasps it apparently, and passes it on to the heart. The heart hears, doubtless, yet it only says, soberly, even sadly, “Yes, that is so.” Perhaps later, after many days; after months; in after-years, maybe, there will be the full realization that we have come out of captivity, and we shall be moved even to tears! Meanwhile, our boxes have to be filled; our cupboards have to be emptied. My last recollection of the German soldiery--these legions of a would-be modern Rome--is of their standing around while we piled into their outspread arms our old pots and pans, boxes of broken biscuits, and fragments of hardened bread. _Sic transit!_