near the entrance to the town, a motor car stood before a smallhouse.

"what does that mean?" exclaimed the baron. "go over there!"our car drew up beside the other. the house door opened sharply,several officers rushed out and tried to hide.

"stand!" commanded the general. "go back inside." they obeyed andhe entered after them, leaning on his tashur. as the door remainedopen, i could see and hear everything.

"woe to them!" whispered the chauffeur. "our officers knew thatthe baron had gone out of the town with me, which means always along journey, and must have decided to have a good time. he willorder them beaten to death with sticks."i could see the end of the table covered with bottles and tinnedthings. at the side two young women were seated, who sprang up atthe appearance of the general. i could hear the hoarse voice ofbaron ungern pronouncing sharp, short, stern phrases.

"your native land is perishing. . . . the shame of it is upon allyou russians . . . and you cannot understand it . . . nor feelit. . . . you need wine and women. . . . scoundrels! brutes! . . .

one hundred fifty tashur for every man of you."the voice fell to a whisper.

"and you, mesdames, do you not realize the ruin of your people?

no? for you it is of no moment. and have you no feeling for yourhusbands at the front who may even now be killed? you are notwomen. . . . i honor woman, who feels more deeply and stronglythan man; but you are not women! . . . listen to me, mesdames.

once more and i will hang you. . . ."he came back to the car and himself sounded the horn several times.

immediately mongol horsemen galloped up.

"take these men to the commandant. i will send my orders later."on the way to the baron's yurta we were silent. he was excited andbreathed heavily, lighting cigarette after cigarette and throwingthem aside after but a single puff or two.

"take supper with me," he proposed.

he also invited his chief of staff, a very retiring, oppressed butsplendidly educated man. the servants spread a chinese hot coursefor us followed by cold meat and fruit compote from california withthe inevitable tea. we ate with chopsticks. the baron was greatlydistraught.

very cautiously i began speaking of the offending officers andtried to justify their actions by the extremely tryingcircumstances under which they were living.

"they are rotten through and through, demoralized, sunk into thedepths," murmured the general.

the chief of staff helped me out and at last the baron directed himto telephone the commandant to release these gentlemen.

the following day i spent with my friends, walking a great dealabout the streets and watching their busy life. the great energyof the baron demanded constant nervous activity from himself andevery one round him. he was everywhere, seeing everything butnever, interfering with the work of his subordinate administrators.

every one was at work.

in the evening i was invited by the chief of staff to his quarters,where i met many intelligent officers. i related again the storyof my trip and we were all chatting along animatedly when suddenlycolonel sepailoff entered, singing to himself. all the others atonce became silent and one by one under various pretexts theyslipped out. he handed our host some papers and, turning to us,said:

"i shall send you for supper a splendid fish pie and some hottomato soup."as he left, my host clasped his head in desperation and said:

"with such scum of the earth are we now forced after thisrevolution to work!"a few minutes later a soldier from sepailoff brought us a tureenfull of soup and the fish pie. as the soldier bent over the tableto set the dishes down, the chief motioned me with his eyes andslipped to me the words: "notice his face."when the man went out, my host sat attentively listening until thesounds of the man's steps ceased.

"he is sepailoff's executioner who hangs and strangles theunfortunate condemned ones."then, to my amazement, he began to pour out the soup on the groundbeside the brazier and, going out of the yurta, threw the pie overthe fence.

"it is sepailoff's feast and, though it may be very tasty, it mayalso be poison. in sepailoff's house it is dangerous to eat ordrink anything."distinctly oppressed by these doings, i returned to my house. myhost was not yet asleep and met me with a frightened look. myfriends were also there.

"god be thanked!" they all exclaimed. "has nothing happened toyou?""what is the matter?" i asked.

"you see," began the host, "after your departure a soldier camefrom sepailoff and took your luggage, saying that you had sent himfor it; but we knew what it meant--that they would first search itand afterwards. . . ."i at once understood the danger. sepailoff could place anything hewanted in my luggage and afterwards accuse me. my old friend, theagronome, and i started at once for sepailoff's, where i left himat the door while i went in and was met by the same soldier who hadbrought the supper to us. sepailoff received me immediately. inanswer to my protest he said that it was a mistake and, asking meto wait for a moment, went out. i waited five, ten, fifteenminutes but nobody came. i knocked on the door but no one answeredme. then i decided to go to baron ungern and started for the exit.

the door was locked. then i tried the other door and found thatalso locked. i had been trapped! i wanted at once to whistle tomy friend but just then noticed a telephone on the wall and calledup baron ungern. in a few minutes he appeared together withsepailoff.

"what is this?" he asked sepailoff in a severe, threatening voice;and, without waiting for an answer, struck him a blow with histashur that sent him to the floor.

we went out and the general ordered my luggage produced. then hebrought me to his own yurta.

"live here, now," he said. "i am very glad of this accident," heremarked with a smile, "for now i can say all that i want to."this drew from me the question:

"may i describe all that i have heard and seen here?"he thought a moment before replying: "give me your notebook."i handed him the album with my sketches of the trip and he wrotetherein: "after my death, baron ungern.""but i am older than you and i shall die before you," i remarked.

he shut his eyes, bowed his head and whispered:

"oh, no! one hundred thirty days yet and it is finished; then . . .

nirvana! how wearied i am with sorrow, woe and hate!"we were silent for a long time. i felt that i had now a mortalenemy in colonel sepailoff and that i should get out of urga at theearliest possible moment. it was two o'clock at night. suddenlybaron ungern stood up.

"let us go to the great, good buddha," he said with a countenanceheld in deep thought and with eyes aflame, his whole facecontracted by a mournful, bitter smile. he ordered the carbrought.

thus lived this camp of martyrs, refugees pursued by events totheir tryst with death, driven on by the hate and contempt of thisoffspring of teutons and privateers! and he, martyring them, knewneither day nor night of peace. fired by impelling, poisonousthoughts, he tormented himself with the pains of a titan, knowingthat every day in this shortening chain of one hundred thirty linksbrought him nearer to the precipice called "death."