“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.

I saw that Markovitch was trembling with excitement from head to foot.  He sat down at the table near Vera and put one hand on the tablecloth to steady himself.  Vera suddenly covered his hand with hers as though she were protecting him.  His excitement seemed to stream away from him, as though Semyonov were drawing it out of him.

He suddenly said: 

“You’d like to take my happiness away from me if you could, Alexei.  You don’t want me to be happy.”

“What nonsense!” Semyonov said, laughing.  “Only I like the truth—­I simply don’t see the thing as you do.  I have my view of us Russians.  I have watched since the beginning of the war.  I think our people lazy and selfish—­think you must drive them with a whip to make them do anything.  I think they would be ideal under German rule, which is what they’ll get if their Revolution lasts long enough... that’s all.”

I saw that Markovitch wanted to reply, but he was trembling so that he could not.

He said at last:  “You leave me alone, Alexei; let me go my own way.”

“I have never tried to prevent you,” said Semyonov.

There was a moment’s silence.

Then, in quite another tone, he remarked to me:  “By the way, Ivan Andreievitch, what about your friend Mr. Lawrence?  He’s in a position of very considerable danger where he is with Wilderling.  They tell me Wilderling may be murdered at any moment.”

Some force stronger than my will drove me to look at Vera.  I saw that Nicolai Leontievitch also was looking at her.  She raised her eyes for an instant, her lips moved as though she were going to speak, then she looked down again at her sewing.

Semyonov watched us all.  “Oh, he’ll be all right,” I answered.  “If any one in the world can look after himself it’s Lawrence.”

“That’s all very well,” said Semyonov, still looking at Markovitch.  “But to be in Wilderling’s company this week is a very unhealthy thing for any one.  And that type of Englishman is not noted for cowardice.”