“Now, what would you do to her if she were to pop up here?” I ventured to inquire. “Kill her. She would never get away alive, you may stake an oath on that,” he assured me. “We have the photographs of all the leading counter-revolutionaries, so that they can’t conceal their identity if they are caught.” The conversation then took a more profitable turn for me. I learned all about the plans of the Bolshevik force against Kornilov. The arrival of the train at Zverevo put an end to my association with my travelling companion. I thanked him warmly for all his kindness to me. “You know, Sister,” he unexpectedly declared before parting, “I like you. Will you marry me?” I was not prepared for this. It rather took me aback. He was such a dirty, repulsive-looking creature, and the proposal was so ludicrous that it was with difficulty that I controlled my desire to laugh. The situation was not one for merriment. “Yes, with pleasure,” I responded to his offer, with as much graciousness as I could command, “but after I have seen my mother.” He gave me his address and asked me to write to him, which I promised to do. Perhaps he is still waiting for a letter from me. I left him at the train and went toward the station. There were Red Guards, sailors, soldiers, even Cossacks, who had joined the Bolsheviks, on the platform and inside the station. But there were no private citizens in sight. I sat down in a corner and waited. I was taken for a nurse attached to the Bolshevik army, and was not molested. One, two, three hours passed and still I could find no opportunity to proceed to my destination. A civilian, who somehow found his way into the station, was placed under arrest before my eyes without any preliminaries. I, therefore, preferred to sit quietly in my corner rather than move about. Finally a pleasant looking young soldier became interested in me. He walked up and asked: “Why are you waiting here, Sister?” “I am waiting for a comrade,” I answered. “What is his name?” he inquired, interested. “Oh, that is a secret,” I replied in a teasing manner. He sat down near me, and asked me if I had worked at the front. I said that unfortunately I had been detailed only to hospitals in the rear. “Why was that man arrested?” I ventured to ask. “Because he had no papers from the Soviet,” was the reply. “He will be shot immediately.” “Do you execute everybody who has no papers?” I asked. “Everybody, without distinction.” “Even women?” I inquired. “Yes, even women,” was the reply. “This is a war zone.” “Holy Mother!” I exclaimed in horror. “How terrible! You really slay them all? Without even a trial?” “There is little time for trials here. Once fallen here, there is no escape. Our firing squads make an end of all suspected persons on the spot,” he informed me kindly. “Come, would you like to see the execution-grounds? They are quite near here.”