Mother drew us daughters into our room. We gathered around her. Then and there I suddenly realized what Tobolsk had done to her. Mother’s hair was partly grey and her eyes were sunken deep in her head. Her beautiful skin was lined and transparent, and her neck thin and drawn. Her clothes hung on her wasted frame--she cared little how much she had aged. She was speaking slowly as if the choke in her throat would not let the words come through. “My only desire,” she said, “is that should we ever be scattered outside of Russia, I hope none of you will ever choose Germany, and that you will never do anything to disgrace yourselves. There will be some people who will try to put you in a compromising position--to take advantage of your youth. Always keep respectable. Never marry for wealth or power, only for love and devotion. The greatest happiness I can ask for you, if ever you will marry, is that you will love your husbands as I do mine, your dear Father, and we are thankful, for He has rewarded us by giving us such an understanding family.” We fell on our knees while she prayed for our safekeeping. Then she drew each one of us to her and kissed us feverishly. She embraced us together, then tore herself from our clinging arms and started toward the door. Suddenly she was back again to hug us once more. Again and again she tried to leave. Each time she came back. Until the last moment we could not believe that God would let this separation take place. Not only that we feared what would happen to them when they reached their destination, but there was the dangerous river to cross for which one closed carriage and several _tarantasy_ (Siberian primitive open carriages) were provided, now that the ice was thawing. The night was dark and cold. It was safer to start early in the morning, because the river freezes overnight, and they had to travel in the middle of the river where the ice was thicker and safer. Without a word, Marie clutched my hand; my arms flew around her. With burning cheeks our lips met. Then and there I felt that a great part of my life was gone. Marie was my other half. Father was the most possessed of us all. He was so brave, parting from him was the hardest, for we might never see him again. Mother was gone. We stood there motionless, not yet believing, staring at the door she had just passed through. She was heading for Alexei’s room. We knew that she wanted to be with him alone. We could see into the room. She found him crying with his head buried under the covers. He always thought it was bad taste to cry before others. Through the mist in our eyes we saw Father standing. He was white, but with a faint smile on his face, he said: “Come now, children. We will only be away for a short time. Hurry Alexei’s recovery so that he will be well enough to travel.”