“When I asked them what we wanted with ‘BAGGAGE’ they went away growling that I wasn’t playing fair!...  To my somber-robed lady of Buckingham, who seems to have deserted me, as well as the slender guard at the Huis ten Bosch, as well as those at the Wilhelmstrasse and Odessa, who are part of this ‘BAGGAGE,’ my guard’s agitation will assume the humorous character of unconscious prophecy....  Suspicion is in the air!...  This undisciplined gang of cutthroats under that half-baked Sergeant are demanding HOSTAGES from me for my conduct of this business ... they want ‘the Grand Dutchess Olga,’ her two companions, and FIFTY other women!...  AT LAST!... the planes are buzzing in the sky....  The Ikon of Holy Nicholas is being wrapped up....  The NUN has copies of the letters to Oldenburg and Gendrikov....  It’s time to say to my prisoner:  Come with ME to the U.D.S. of W.A.R.A.D.’....  If he has the code from Odessa he will ask:  ’Are you taking me to be shot?’... ’RUNMOBS’....  I’ll have the guard go through his pockets to find the letters that’ll turn him over to my ‘vengeance’ ... then for Ekhart’s tunnel and OBLIVION!”

23.  Then this entry follows.  It seems to be sufficiently circumstantial to justify its reproduction here: 

“Murder, like jealousy, in this country is a disease,” begins the narrative.  “My part in this international murder will paralyze the politician and mystify the sober mind of intelligent belief....  History will not be satisfied, however, without a VICTIM, and I must furnish a victim that will satisfy the mob outside!...  The Order has been given....  There are celebrations among the banditti.... there are moistened eyes among many peasants; there are strong men and gallant men among the gang out yonder whose very looks betray the HATRED they entertain for the suspected executioner of their former ruler and his excited family....  They fear, they try to avoid me; and I can see in their looks that, given a favorable opportunity, they will hang me to the highest electric wire pole in the city!...

“I am not so certain, though, that EVERYONE outside will accept my theatric ‘slaughter’ as the Gospel truth.

“Diagonally across the way there has been a Red Cross nurse eternally peeking through her window in this direction....  If we go out into the courtyard she can see us plainly behind the other buildings, for there is nothing to obstruct her vision.... and she seems mighty anxious to keep tab on all proceedings in the yard....  I have tried to figure out a resemblance between this nurse and the capricious Metropole Baroness, but the nurse seems much older....  Perhaps she is disguised....  If she ever reveals her identity she will remember me as the man who tipped my cap to her after posting the two sentries in front of the palisade between the telephone poles and the British Consulate....  If she remembers me she will also recall the drillings I gave my awkward squad for the few days I kept them parading after my prisoners in the yard.... and if anything happens to me she will KNOW that I did my job well up to the minute I write this....  In a few hours more the future political history of the world may be changed forever....  To blot out seven lives is all.... Dokonchet the Romanoffs!”