In order to board the train, our automobiles stopped a short distance from our own white station, which was not far from the public one. Approaching it we saw in the distance a heap of luggage still being loaded into the train. With the troops guarding the vicinity, we walked along and crossed the track. As we were to board the train, Mother gave her hand to Kerensky who kissed it and wished her a pleasant trip. There was no stool to step on and Mother had trouble negotiating the high step. When she reached her compartment, she collapsed and fell before anyone could catch her, spraining her ankle and a finger, and struggling to catch her breath. Dr. Botkin gave her a sedative. Partly because of the heat, it was several days before she recovered from the strain. It was sad to leave our friends, especially those officers who stood at the station humbly with their caps in their hand, and their heads bowed for the last time--their final reverence to Russia. The family stood near the windows in two different cars and blessed those good men, when suddenly several of them entered the car, and wanted to fall on their knees before Father, but he would not let them do so. Instead, he embraced them, their faces resting on his shoulder. This great man thanked his loyal officers (especially two men, Kushelev, and another whose name I do not remember but which was something like Artasalev) for their services with the words, “Be loyal and help your country; they need you now more than ever.” With these words, they withdrew, and Father touched his own insignia of command, promoting them to a higher rank for the last time. This touching scene made him withdraw from the window so that they might not see the tears in his eyes. Suddenly on order of Commissar Kozmin, all the shades of the car were drawn. Already within the confines of these quarters, Father’s spiritual agony was supreme. He knew that he had abdicated not for selfish reasons, but to avoid the bloodshed which he foresaw, but which the others did not. Now, this suffering family carried with them into uncertainty the centuries-old secrets of the dynasty. With a quick jerk and screech the wagons-lits began to move. The vibration sent shivers to our souls. It was 6:30 A.M. We hoped the train would be heading for the west or south. However, it was not long before we realized much to our disappointment that we were heading eastward.