The Chairman returned to the billets and told his soldiers that the General ordered them into the trenches under penalty of death. This incensed the men. “Aha, he is threatening to shoot!” cried one. “He’s of the old régime,” exclaimed another. “He wants to practise on us the Tsar’s methods!” shouted several voices. “He is a blackguard!” suggested another. “He ought to be killed! He wants to rule us with an iron hand!” the men roared, working themselves up to a fever. Meanwhile, the news came from the trenches that the men were holding meetings there, proclaiming their determination not to remain in their position after seven o’clock. The General was in great difficulty. He was faced with the probability of his section of the front being left entirely open to the enemy. He telephoned to the reserve billets and asked the Chairman of the Committee what was going on there. Suddenly the General grew pale, dropped the receiver and said: “They want to kill me.” Chief of Staff Kostayev took up the receiver and in a trembling voice inquired what the trouble was. I listened to the answer. “They are in an ugly mood. They have mutinied and threaten to mob the General. The excitement is spreading, and some of them have already started out for Headquarters.” The voice of the Chairman at the other end of the wire was clearly expressive of his alarm. In reply to questions what the General could do to calm the mob he said that the committee admired and respected the General, that its members were doing their best to allay the passions that had been aroused, but seemed helpless. A few minutes later several officers and men ran into the house, greatly agitated. “General, you are lost if you don’t get away in time!” one of them said. Shortly afterwards Colonel Belonogov, a man of sterling heart, beloved by his soldiers even before the revolution, rushed in. He brought the same tidings, asking the General to hide. I joined in, imploring the Commander to conceal himself till the storm had passed. But he refused. “Why should I hide?” he exclaimed. “What wrong have I done? Let them come and kill me! I have only done my duty.” He went into his study and locked himself in. The mob was moving nearer and nearer. There was a deathly pallor on the faces of all those present. Every minute or so some one would dash in breathlessly, with eyes full of horror, to herald the approaching tempest. The tide of tumultuous humanity reached the house. There were cries and howls. For a second we were all in suspense. Then Colonel Belonogov said he would go out and talk to them and try to make them see reason. The Colonel had a gentle voice and a gentle heart. He never addressed even his own orderly in the ordinary fashion. When a little time before he had asked to be transferred to another position, his own soldiers persuaded him into staying where he was.