The searching over, we were surrounded by thirty or forty soldiers, with arms at the trail, and conducted to the Libed police station. Even before we reached our destination we could see that something unusual had happened. The building was lighted up, and there was an excited crowd about the door. After mounting the staircase we were led into the waiting-room. It was filled with armed men. Pushing my way with some difficulty through the press, I saw on the other side of the room several of our friends. But, my God, what a state they were in! Posen and Steblin Kamensky were bound hand and foot; the cords so tightly drawn that their elbows, forced behind their backs, actually touched. Close to them were Mesdames Arnfeld, Sarandovitch, and Patalizina. It was evident that something extraordinary had befallen in the house of Kossarovsky, shortly after we left. I could not, however, ask our friends any questions, for that would have been taken as proof that we were acquainted. Yet, from a few words dropped here and there, I soon learnt what had come to pass. They had resisted the police, a gendarme had been killed, and all whom we had left at the meeting arrested. I had hardly made this discovery when a disturbance was heard in the next room—trampling of feet, loud exclamations, and voices in contention, one of which I seemed to know. The next moment a man burst into the reception-room, literally dragging behind him two gendarmes, who tried in vain to stop him. His dishevelled hair, pale face, and flaming eyes, showed that he had been engaged in a struggle beyond his strength. In a few minutes he was garotted and forced into a seat near us. “Separate the prisoners one from another!” cried Colonel Novitzki. On this each of us was immediately surrounded by four soldiers. “If they resist, use your bayonets!” said the colonel. After a short interval we were called one after another into the next room. I was called the last. On responding to the summons I found myself in the presence of several gendarmes and officers of police, by whom I was searched a second time. “Have the goodness to state your name,” said Colonel Novitzki, after the operation was completed. “I would rather not,” I answered. “In that case I shall tell you who you are.” “You will do me a great pleasure,” I replied. “You are called Debagorio Mokrievitch,” said the colonel. “Yes, that is your name,” put in Soudeikin. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, colonel,” I answered, giving the military salute. It would have been useless to deny my identity. My mother, my brother, and my sister were living at Kieff, and I did not want to have them compelled to confront the police and ordered to recognize me. THE SENTENCE.