We could not understand what had become of the Emperor: the Empress thought that the delay arose owing to the confusion on the railways, which were now in the hands of the Revolutionaries. The dreary afternoon of March 1st was signalised by an unhappy occurrence. The Empress and I were standing at the window overlooking the courtyard, when we noticed that many of the soldiers had bound white handkerchiefs on their wrists. An enquiry as to the reason elicited the reply that the white handkerchiefs signified that upon the representation of a Member (who had come to Tsarkoe Selo) the troops had consented to act in unison with the Duma. The Empress turned to me. “Well ... so everything is in the hands of the Duma,” she said, with a certain degree of bitterness. “Let us hope that it will bestir itself, and do something to remedy the disaffection.” <p>[Illustration: SHOOTING PARTY IN FINLAND, AUTUMN, 1910 Center&mdash;the Emperor: Right&mdash;Lieut.-Com. Dehn]</>p <p>[Illustration: THE TSAREVITCH AT G.H.Q.]</>p <p>[Illustration: THE TSAREVITCH AND HIS SPANIEL ‘JOY’]</p> She moved away from the window. I could see she was hurt and disappointed ... but this was not destined to be the last of her many disillusions! Count Appraxin, Secretary to the Empress, arrived later in the day: he had experienced the greatest difficulty in reaching Tsarkoe--and his news was not reassuring. We sat up late that evening--dinner had been a mere farce--our minds were too anxious and too preoccupied to think of food. The children were dangerously ill, the whereabouts of the Emperor were unknown, and the Revolution was at our gates. When at last I bade the Empress good night, she told me not to undress. “I’m not going to do so,” she said, and her quiet tones were significant that she anticipated the worst! CHAPTER II Early on the morning of March 2nd the Empress came into the Grand Duchesses’ bedroom. She was deathly pale--she seemed hardly alive. As I ran towards her I heard her agitated whisper: “Lili--the troops have deserted!” I found no words with which to answer. I was stupefied. At last I managed to stammer: “Why, Madame? In the name of God, why?” “Their Commander-in-Chief, the Grand Duke Cyril, has sent for them.” Then, unable to contain herself, the Empress said brokenly, “My sailors--my _own_ sailors--I can’t believe it.”