He entered the room and then went on into Father’s room. Soon Father appeared in the doorway and in a faltering voice told us to hurry and get ready as we had to leave within the next forty minutes. While we were washing and dressing, we prayed and quietly cried. We were almost ready when another guard came in, telling us not to pack any of our belongings as there was no time. We took only a few essential things. Tatiana ran into our parents’ bedroom and helped Alexei to put on his braces over his limbs while Olga packed Alexei’s medicine. He was still ill and quite helpless and began to weep as did we sisters. We girls dressed in white blouses and lightweight gray skirts and jackets and carried top coats, which bore some of our treasures sewn inside. Father and Alexei were dressed in military coats; Mother in a black suit. When we were ready, Dr. Botkin came in with a small bag and a coat on his arm. The last few minutes before we left, we went to our knees and fervently prayed before an ancient icon of Christ and shared the holy _prosphora_ given us by the priest on the previous Sunday. This icon for centuries had been handed down from one Russian sovereign’s family to another. All our treasures had been catalogued for many years; there was a description of each piece with its origin and history. We carried this icon to Tobolsk and Ekaterinburg. We knew that it was the oldest and the most venerated of all the icons and more valuable than those that were embellished with gold and silver and studded with precious stones. This framed cloth icon was said to have been made from the towel that was used by Jesus to wipe the perspiration and blood from His face before His crucifixion and it pictured clearly, though faintly, the imprint of His face. Subsequent tests disclosed that the cloth of the icon was made of the same material that was used in Jerusalem at the time of Christ, and that the spots and outline of the face were of human blood and perspiration. It was further shown that no human hand could have made this icon and for that reason it was called in Russian “Nerukotvorenny Spas” which means: No-hand-created Saviour. We left our rooms with a prayer on our lips. My heart was pounding and a cold chill ran over my body as I was again struck with the violent force of the premonition which had haunted me all day long, ever since I awoke with a horrible dream early that morning. I had dreamed that I stood in the doorway of a very small wooden house somewhat like a fishing shack. It stood on a wooden platform. Presently I sensed that the little shack was floating on waters which were gradually rising from below the surface. As I looked through the mist I could see nothing around but water: no forest or mountain which could produce any safety. Not a murmur or a sound or a ripple could be heard. The depressing, lonely quietness engulfed me. I knew I was sinking slowly.