"What has happened--what is the matter? Are you hurt, Sasha?" she asked, assuming her usual air of composure, though her heart beat wildly with a variety of emotions. "Vera, I am disgraced--doubly disgraced. We failed in our attempt--all my poor companions are dead--shot--I almost wish I had died with them--I feel dishonoured--shamed; see, I cannot look you in the face." Vera leaned over and kissed his forehead; he looked up gratefully but said nothing. "I am sure you are not dishonoured," she murmured softly; "let me first attend to your arm, and then you shall tell me all." "I will tell you as you bind me," he said, and began at once. "We carried out the first part of our scheme successfully; we got into the stables and set fire to straw and rubbish, but the smoke frightened the horses and there was a great commotion. We were found and dragged out by soldiers. Several young officers, quartered in the Kremlin, ran up and we were all pulled about and insulted. Among the officers were two of those who came to this house. 'Look here,' said one, on recognising me, 'look, Paul, here is your acquaintance of the other evening;' whereupon the impertinent one whom you interviewed alone that day saw me also. He called up half a dozen fellows and bade them take me to his quarters. Of course I struggled, but I soon saw it was useless and went with them. Afterwards I heard that the Emperor suddenly appeared upon the scene and asked what had happened and who were these men, meaning my late companions. When he was told he frowned and twisted his nose and called them canaille and bade the soldiers shoot them down, then and there, for which butchery I trust he may be tortured in eternal fires.