It was about two o’clock in the morning. The upper servants had retired to the sleeping compartments in order to snatch an hour’s repose, and there were only two others beside Liustig and myself in the kitchen. I had occasion to carry some wine through to the Imperial dining-car, and was met at the door by the waiter-detective; nevertheless, I managed to obtain a glimpse of the interior. I saw that the Tzarina had gone to her private saloon, and that his Majesty was seated with two officers of his suite, calmly smoking and laughing over his wine. Returning to my small compartment at the extreme end of the kitchen-car, I resumed my work of scouring pans, when suddenly Liustig, with white, scared face, entered, closing the door quickly after him. “By heaven! we’re lost!” he gasped, in a hoarse, frightened whisper. “Some one has placed it on end!” “How long ago?” I asked, startled at the position, which I at once recognised as extremely critical. “I don’t know. Perhaps a quarter of an hour.” Without hesitation I opened the door, and, affecting carelessness, passed to the centre of the car, where there was a cupboard in which were stored our provisions. On looking inside, I saw on the lower shelf an object which I had conveyed from London. It was certainly not suspicious-looking; merely a small-sized loaf of white sugar, the conical top of which had during the day been broken off and used, while part of its original blue paper wrapping still remained. During the whole of the journey I had exercised the greatest caution that it should be kept in a horizontal position; but one of the servants, probably noticing it rolling backwards and forwards with the oscillation of the train, had set it on end in a corner of the cupboard. Stooping, I was about to replace it in its original position, when my fingers came in contact with some sticky liquid. I saw it was too late! Closing the cupboard, I quickly rejoined Ivan. “Well,” he whispered, “what can we do?” “Nothing,” I replied breathlessly. “We have but one chance.” “What’s that?” “To leap for life.” “From the train?” I nodded, peering through the window into the darkness, and suddenly recognising a station through which we passed a moment later. “We are about eighteen versts from Borki, and close to the spot that had been arranged. If you remain here, you know what fate awaits you,” I added, noticing his hesitation. The door was open, and the two men in the kitchen beyond were smoking cigarettes and drinking _vodka_. “Come,” I said aloud, so that they should overhear. “We are nearing Borki, I think. Let’s go outside and see. I once lived close by when I was a youth.” He followed me. As we stepped out upon the platform at the end of the car and adjoining the engine, I undid the latch of the little iron gate. Our pace had quickened, and we were travelling through the wide open country in the teeth of a fierce storm of rain and wind.