The meeting between husband and wife was a very affecting one. Nicholas came straight to the nursery. They embraced each other tenderly, “forgetting the world and its troubles in the joy of reunion with their children.” Prison rules, rigorously applied, thenceforth prevented any communication with the outside, and for a time even between the prisoners. Kerensky set about trying to discover some evidence of collusion with the enemy. Alexandra was isolated. A creature of Kerensky’s, named Korovichenko, came to search the Imperial papers. The Tsar politely offered to help him, but met with a rude rebuff, after which he left Korovichenko alone. Having satisfied himself that no such evidence existed Kerensky somewhat altered his demeanour. At his first meeting with the ex-Tsar, he had adopted a tone of haughty familiarity. Later, he became polite, even respectful, addressing him as “your Majesty,” instead of plain “Nicholas Alexandrovich.” Although the soldiers guarding the Palace were not supposed to enter its precincts, the prisoners did not enjoy immunity from their prying gaze and offensive curiosity. They broke into the palace and pilfered, ransacking trunks. On one occasion they rushed into the sitting-room where the family had assembled. One of the girls sat between the light and the window, doing some sewing. Her movements silhouetted outside had been suspected to be signals. An officer accompanying the Minister of War (Guchkov) on one of his visits loudly accused the occupants of the Palace of being “sold to the enemy” (_Vy vsie prodazhnyie_). The fact that he was intoxicated did not lighten the insult. It showed what unworthy suspicions animated people in the Ministries. The ignorant soldiers who imbibed their daily dose of revolutionary lore from the Soviets were not better or worse than their chiefs. By dogging the ex-Tsar’s footsteps when he went out for exercise, by shooting the boy’s pet goats, and taking away his toy rifle, and by other acts of the same kind the soldiers were merely copying their officers. These demonstratively donned red badges and ignored the Tsar’s salute. Senseless clamour had led to daily espionage of the family. Officers of the guard went into the dining-room at lunch time to see if the prisoners were all in the Palace. The Tsar always greeted them. On one occasion an officer declined the extended hand. Nicholas, deeply hurt, asked him: “Why?” The man, putting his hand behind his back, declaimed: “I am of the people. When the people stretched their hands out to you, you did not meet them!” * * * * *