Marie Spiridonova went from table to table, trying to make the strange ones feel at home. She was sitting beside me, quietly talking, when a sudden murmur ran through the crowd and a flare of light touched the ceiling. We looked up to find the doorway filled with flames. The lamp had caught fire. The little revolutionist made a bound toward it, and threw a coat over the burning mass. The spirit of panic had run like flames through the room, and at least half of the occupants were on their feet, rushing for the door. Spiridonova lifted her tiny hands and waved them as I have seen her do so many times in the peasants’ conventions. “Tavarischi! Tavarischi! Tiche! Tiche!” she cried, and they settled quietly back in their places. On New Year’s night the first volunteer army of the Revolution left Petrograd for the front. They gathered in the Mikhailovsky Menage, which has seen many strange meetings in the revolutionary year. In the old days the aristocracy came here to watch “officers and gentlemen” take part in riding competitions. Since the war it has been used as a garage for armored motor-cars, and many a sharp contest between revolutionary leaders took place here. The meeting was called for two o’clock, and Nicolai Lenin was to review the forces. As usual, it was seven before the ceremonies started. Two armored cars, decorated with evergreens and red banners, stood watch at the entrance. Inside a third armored car had been trimmed for use as a tribunal. On either side of the huge building were rows of formidable mud-colored motors. The place was swarming with men. They were a tatterdemalion lot, who made up in spirit what they lacked in equipment. There were a few soldiers among them, but most of them were factory workers. They had no uniforms, no blankets; some of them wore short jackets and some of them long coats. They were going they knew not where, but going to fight the foes of revolution. Their tin pails and meager packs were strapped to their backs or tied on with rope or string, and each man’s most precious possession was his rifle. They were bound for the trenches, to fill up the gaps left by deserting soldiers. Most of them were undersized; some were mere boys; but all were fired with faith in their cause. [Illustration: © Orrin S. Wightman “It was a dangerous partnership, for when the state fell the church tottered also”] [Illustration: New Russia votes for the Constituent Assembly] [Illustration: Young Russia makes revolutionary demonstration at school]