difficult to understand the meaning of the demonstration; it was the bursting of the tempest which had been gathering for so many weeks. Before me was the banner of the Streltsi with the face of the Virgin on its broad folds, and one of the regimental cannon had been dragged half through the gate. Stepping upon a projecting ledge of masonry, I caught a glimpse of the scene within, and comprehended the situation. The boyars had been taken by surprise, and their enemies were in possession of the Kremlin; the gates that, once closed, might have been defended were in the hands of the Streltsi. Here and there, in the crowd, I saw the carriage of a boyar forced back from the gate; the rioters had unharnessed all the horses, killing some of them,--an action that demonstrated a desperate determination on their part to cage the nobility within the walls. The most conspicuous weapons carried by the Streltsi were their long handled spears, and I noticed at once that they had severed the unwieldy handles in the middle, thus making them far more available and deadly. There was a confused roar from the crowd, broken now and then by the shout: “They have murdered the Czarevitch Ivan, they have slain the royal family! Give us the traitors!” A seething mass of savage faces and gleaming spears. Where was Zénaïde? The thought of her drove every consideration of prudence from my mind. I drew my sword, and leaping into the mob, joined it in the rush towards the Red Place. I knew that if she was in the Kremlin she was probably with the czarina, for Naryshkin would seek his own safety in the palace. I soon found that I was really only on the margin of the throng, for as we approached the Red Staircase, the crush became fearful, and here the rioters had leaped all bounds of control. They were crowding forward, howling like demons; on every side the shouts for the Czarevitch Ivan and vengeance on the Naryshkins were deafening. The Czarevna Sophia had been playing on the credulity of the populace, and this mob was possessed with the idea that the Naryshkins were aiming at the crown, in spite of the fact that the young czar was of their own blood. Pushed and beaten about, I had no control over my movements, and was hurled along into the Red Place, where, at last, we came to a standstill, for here the main body of the insurgents was packed about the Red Staircase, where the ringleaders had been parleying with deputies from the palace. When I found myself in a position where I could look about me, a curious spectacle met my gaze. I was near the center of the Red Place, and could not at first hear much of what was passing, but could see the scene in front of the palace. In the square the rioters were, for the moment, quiet, and every eye was fixed on the group on the balcony. The Princes Galitsyn, Tcherkasky, Havansky, and Sheremétief were there with the patriarch, evidently endeavoring by pacific addresses to quiet the mob. In the