That afternoon I went to the Lettish Foreign Office to visit the officials who had granted me permission to enter a few weeks before. They appeared glad to see me, but incredulous as to my identity. Was I sure that I had been safely through Russia? Was I still in the flesh or merely a very vigorous and somewhat pugnacious ghost? My young friend who had been so concerned was very eager to know what I had seen. I told him I could indeed confirm his worst fears. The Bolsheviki were people who had but little respect for the sacred rights of private property. I hastened to make my escape before he could ask me about the nationalization of women. I did not want to disappoint him too much. The next day all the guests of the hotel were locked in and forbidden to leave the hotel. The Lettish staff officers were established in the hotel, two doors away from my room. Two regiments of Esthonians reached Riga that day and their first act was to place a big field-gun immediately in front of the hotel and begin firing over the roof of it into the German position. Knowing the reputation of the Germans for finding gun positions, I was not very sanguine over the prospects of my safe return to America. The shelling lasted for forty-eight hours, during which time the deafening noise and the jarring of the walls made rest impossible. The Danish Consul and his staff occupied the rooms immediately across the hall from mine. The third day they invited me over to lunch with them in their room, as Lettish soldiers had been billeted in the dining-room downstairs. About four in the afternoon, after the wine had all been consumed, the Danes began singing the songs of their own country. Scarcely an hour later the door of the room was opened and five Lettish officers marched in, ordering us all to “Get your clothes together and get ready.” The Danish Consul asked what they meant. “You have been drinking the health of Germany and singing German songs. Yon are under arrest,” was the answer. I was somewhat disappointed when they apologized after we had shown them our papers. Arrest and deportation to other shores seemed very attractive to me just then. A little later the proprietor came in and told us that food was getting scarce, that prices had doubled, and that we would have to pay in Czarist rubles, since the Lettish rubles (which he had been glad to take before) were no longer any good. After we had organized a vigorous protest he recanted and we had no further difficulty on that score.