Something of their anxious energy was lent to me in that supreme moment. I sprang with agility upon the proffered shoulders—I opened the window, and with a rush of cold wind came to me the measured tramp of the police on the stairs. As I crawled outside and closed the window after me, the fury of the storm was such that I felt it would sweep me from my insecure retreat. I clutched the window-frame—my feet were on a sloping roof, which seemed to move away under them. In my desperation I felt disposed to let myself go, for the precious bag I had brought up seemed to drag me down. In a few moments, however, I had found a secure resting-place for it, and, moving cautiously sideways, discovered a projection, upon which I obtained a firm grip. Thus, by bending forward, I was enabled to see into the room, myself unseen. One cup had been hidden, and Mascha sat by the stove with a book in her hand. Her eyes were turned to the door as if in startled surprise. The picture she thus presented, with the two men calmly smoking cigarettes, was tranquil, innocent, and natural. Next second five police officers burst into the room. Liustig’s manner was perfect. His eyebrows were raised, and he looked astonishment personified. Soliviof had gone to the door, and with a polite gesture of the hand, seemed to invite the intruders to enter, search, and examine anything they liked. There was an expression of mystification upon the faces of all the officers as their glances travelled round the room. Mascha had risen to her feet, and stood with proud uplifted head in mute protest at the unseemly interruption. The _ispravnik_ stepped forward in front of Soliviof, and holding him with stern eye, evidently questioned him. Although I strained every nerve to hear what was being said, the howling of the wind prevented me distinguishing a single word. I could only guess what was transpiring by a close observation of the dumb show. Soliviof fixed steady unflinching eyes upon his examiner, and gave prompt replies, which apparently satisfied him. Liustig was submitted to the same cross-examination, but with perfect coolness leaned against the wall, smoking his cigarette with a half-amused air. Then came Mascha’s turn. She bore herself like an outraged queen. I saw that her manner impressed the officer, who, when handing back her “permit to reside,” bowed courteously. But Russian officers are mostly impressionable, and this _ispravnik_ would go through the same insipid polite formalities were he conducting my sister to the scaffold. Mascha sat down and was silent, but watched every movement of the men, who, inactive during the examination, now received orders to prosecute a search. They left no corner, probable or improbable, uninvestigated; and whilst they were busy a sudden panic of dread seized me that before they went one of them might think of the roof.