Regiments hearing the alarm fell in. Officers, surprised in bed, at a ball, at the theatre, or in restaurants, hurried off to march their units to the alarm posts: hurried, but went without speed--for, alas! no one had hitherto taken the trouble to become acquainted with the geography of the Fortress, and the consequence was that most of the troops wandered about unknown roads and hill-tracks, in vain searching for the posts assigned to them. The confusion which ensued was incredible--a fitting prelude to the fall of Port Arthur. Finally, when the troops did arrive at their posts, to their amazement they found in them either no small-arm ammunition at all or else only the ordinary quantity for the guards. To the men it was at first a huge joke; they naturally thought they were only doing a 'sham fight.' But the jest wore off as they sat on through the night, and through the next day, hungry, and chilled to the bone by the pitiless icy wind which was howling down the hill-sides. It was possibly good training for the hardships to follow? It was not until the morning that it struck some bright staff-officer to send up ammunition. This reached the frozen detachments on the following evening, together with the means of cooking. Yes, certainly Luck did favour us sometimes in Port Arthur; she did that night, in that the Japanese did not press a land attack. While this cheerful state of chaos reigned in the Fortress, on the sea the prologue to the war was already over. One Russian ship alone--the _Novik_--could be heard, hull down on the horizon, firing at Japanese destroyers. In the town itself a doleful rumour spread apace, that some of our ships had been blown up. It was not believed. We were afraid to believe what we did hear, but did not want to hear the truth, which we dreaded still more. Next morning Port Arthur woke earlier than usual. Every one wanted to know what had actually happened during the night. Alas! the reports as to Japanese torpedo attacks were only too well founded, and the _Cesarevitch_, _Pallada_, and _Retvisan_ were _hors de combat_. Despite the completeness of the night attack, and the calculating thoroughness with which the enemy had done their work--clearest proof that man could want of the outbreak of war--in the absence of any official communication from the Commandant, the population still hoped against hope. The more impressionable prepared to leave, but otherwise things went on much as usual. At the wharf a crowd collected to look at the _Retvisan_ lying in the entrance to the harbour; from her appearance it was difficult to believe that she had sustained any damage, and the reports were pronounced untrue. The printing office of the _Novy Kry_ was another centre of attraction, every one hustling round to buy a paper with some account of the night's work. But in the paper was no word of war.