The helplessness of the victim, and the brutal strength of the assassins, formed a contrast that would have moved the least emotional to a sense of horror, pity, and indignation; and, as if to drive home the moral of the picture, there was written at its foot, in Russian, what were erroneously supposed by the crowd to be Paul’s last words, words well adapted to quicken the blood of the coldest Muscovite— “I LOOK TO MY PEOPLE TO AVENGE ME!” Whatever weakening of the sentiment may take place in the twentieth century, certain it is that in the early part of the nineteenth the feeling towards the Czar was a sort of religion with the Muscovites of the lower classes. Rule he never so ill, still a Czar _was_ a Czar and his murder the greatest of crimes. So at least the crowd seemed to think, if their looks and words meant anything. “This is true,” said the student, pointing to the picture, “for the good Empress would never put forth a lie. Ye are murderers! And what saith Holy Writ of such? ‘Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed.’” “It seems, then, that this is a court of justice,” said Benningsen. He could afford to sneer, for he saw at that moment what the other apparently did not see. “It is an assembly of the people, who adjudge you both to be worthy of death. You shall be hanged from these railings.” “Lying prophet!” said Benningsen with a sardonic grin. “Look there!” “The soldiers! the soldiers!” was the cry that suddenly rose from all sides. And the student, looking in the direction indicated by Benningsen, saw glinting over the heads of the people the plumed helmets of a posse of cavalry, who, laying about them with the flat of their sabres, were endeavouring to open a way to the spot where the ministers were. There was a moment of irresolution on the part of the crowd, and then, with a howl, they rushed at the carriage. Well was it for Benningsen that disguised police existed, otherwise he would have made a tragic ending then and there. It so happened, however, that a number of these secret agents of the Government had been slowly edging their way to the front, with the result that the crowd suddenly found the carriage girt by a ring of men, armed with batons and pistols, who, in the quickness of their appearing, seemed to have sprung from the ground. Their resolute attitude cowed the mob as if by magic, and as the trampling of horse-hoofs and the waving of sabres were now close at hand, to be far from the ministers and not near them, now became the object of the crowd. Benningsen made no attempt at taking reprisals. At a word from him the cavalry closed in order round the carriage, and, escorted thus, the two ministers made their way to the Winter Palace.