There was a moment's pause like the hush before the storm, and then Markovitch broke in upon us. I can see and hear him now, standing there behind Vera with his ridiculous collar and his anxious eyes. The words simply pouring from him in a torrent, his voice now rising into a shrill scream, now sinking into a funny broken bass like the growl of a young baby tiger. And yet he was never ridiculous. I've known other mortals, and myself one of the foremost, who, under the impulse of some sudden anger, enthusiasm, or regret, have been simply figures of fun.... Markovitch was never that. He was like a dying man fighting for possession of the last plank. I can't at this distance of time remember all that he said. He talked a great deal about Russia; while he spoke I noticed that he avoided Semyonov's eyes, which never for a single instant left his face. "Oh, don't you see, don't you see?" he cried. "Russia's chance has come back to her? We can fight now a holy, patriotic war. We can fight, not because we are told to by our masters, but because we, of our own free will, wish to defend the soil of our sacred country. _Our_ country! No one has thought of Russia for the last two years--we have thought only of ourselves, our privations, our losses--but now--now. O God! the world may be set free again because Russia is at last free!" "Yes," said Semyonov quietly (his eyes covered Markovitch's face as a searchlight finds out the running figure of a man). "And who has spoken of Russia during the last few days? Russia! Why, I haven't heard the word mentioned once. I may have been unlucky, I don't know. I've been out and about the streets a good deal... I've listened to a great many conversations.... Democracy, yes, and Brotherhood and Equality and Fraternity and Bread and Land and Peace and Idleness--but Russia! Not a sound...." "It will come! It will come!" Markovitch urged. "It _must_ come! You didn't walk, Alexei, as I did last night, through the streets, and see the people and hear their voices and see their faces.... Oh! I believe that at last that good has come to the world, and happiness and peace; and it is Russia who will lead the way.... Thank God! Thank God!" Even as he spoke some instinct in me urged me to try and prevent him. I felt that Semyonov would not forget a word of this, and would make his own use of it in the time to come. I could see the purpose in Semyonov's eyes. I almost called out to Nicholas, "Look out! Look out!" just as though a man were standing behind him with a raised weapon.... "You really mean this?" asked Semyonov. "Of course I mean it!" cried Markovitch. "Do I not sound as though I did?" "I will remind you of it one day," said Semyonov.