The ex-Tsar appointed two o’clock on the following day for the interview. Alexandra became furious on learning that she was not to be present. When Yakovlev entered the drawing-room, she met him with flaming eyes and asked him how he dared to separate husband and wife. Yakovlev, with a shrug of the shoulders, addressed himself to Nicholas: “The Moscow Central Executive Committee have sent me as Commissary Extraordinary with power to remove the whole family, but as Alexis Nikolaievich is ill I have received orders to leave with you alone.” The Tsar replied: “I shall go nowhere.” Yakovlev remonstrated: “You must not say that. I have to carry out orders. If you refuse to go, I must either use force or send in my resignation, and then someone else will come who will be less humane. Have no anxiety; I answer for your life with my head. If you do not wish to go alone take anybody you like. Be ready to leave tomorrow at four.” Yakovlev thereupon left without addressing the Empress. Kobylinsky remained in compliance with a request from the ex-Tsar. Alexandra and Tatishchev and Dolgoruky stood by. “Where do they want to take me?” asked Nicholas. “To Moscow,” was the reply. “Yakovlev let it slip out when I inquired how long he would be away before returning to fetch the family.” The ex-Tsar nodded, as if the news confirmed his own knowledge. Turning to his followers he declared: “You see they want me to sign the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. But I would rather cut off my hand than do so.” Alexandra, much agitated, interposed: “I am also going. Without me they will persuade him into doing something, as they did once before....” And she fired a volley of abuse at Rodzianko for his part in the abdication. But in the stress of the moment she had forgotten her sick boy. The hours that followed will ever be recalled by all who survive as the most painful of their memories. This distracted mother, too feeble to stand for more than five minutes, paced her room like a caged tigress. She summoned her favourite daughter Tatiana and burst into a storm of weeping. For the first time her attendants saw her lose all self-control. In broken sentences she disburdened herself of her sorrow, revealing in her distress the innermost thoughts of her mind: “The Germans know that their treaty is valueless without the Tsar’s signature.... They want to separate him from his family in order to frighten him into some disgraceful act.... He will be afraid to refuse on our account.... It will be a repetition of Pskov....” She wrestled with herself, praying that she might not have to choose between her husband and her son, hoping that the river might suddenly open and prevent any travelling. At last she came to a decision, and, jumping up, cried: “It is enough, I go with the Emperor.” Nicholas entered the room. She greeted him with the words: “I shall not let you go alone.” “As you will,” was his reply.