Ramodanofsky and I were left alone, and I was bringing another light to put on the table, when he suddenly rose and went to the window. I looked at him in astonishment, for he was not a man of rapid movements. After a glance out, he silently signaled to me to join him. As I approached, he stood aside and pointed down into the street. A strange spectacle met my astonished gaze. In the darkness, I could just distinguish the crowd of people that were silently forming in a circle about the house, as if in fear of being disappointed of their anticipated prey. The boyar and I looked at each other in silence; I saw the fire of the warrior burning in his eyes, but my thoughts were all for the three helpless women in the inner room. “You must keep them here, M. Ramodanofsky,” I said quickly, “until I send the man below to the Kremlin for help if it can be had.” “I fear I cannot keep them now,” he rejoined with perfect composure, although I saw his face twitch; “they suspect that I am not one of them. If they think me a traitor to their cause,” he laughed harshly, “an hour from now you will not recognize the fragments of my remains.” “_Ma foi!_” I cried passionately, “how can you jest? Your daughter, man, your daughter!” A violent emotion convulsed his features. “I was mad to come here to-night,” he said, “stark, staring mad,” and with that he went to the window, calling out to them that he must speak. I did not pause to hear more, but rushed down the stairs just as a thundering blow fell on the door, summoning us to surrender. Pierrot and the other man were in the hall, taken by surprise. “Quick!” I cried, “the back door! Pierrot, watch here and defend the way, and you,” I said to the other, “must get out in the alley and run to the Kremlin. Tell the Czarevna Sophia that these hounds will murder the Boyar Feodor Sergheievitch Ramodanofsky and the Vicomte de Brousson.”