imagine we were indeed entering the promised
land. And now I was seeing other sights,
which will stand out for ever in my memory
—riding through Petrograd under brilliant
moonlight ; catching sight of first one great
tower and then another ; tearing along the
river embankment to see, as in a flash, the
long, narrow, sinister-looking, gilded tower
of the hideous fortress of Peter and Paul ;
seeing, a second or two later, as in a moving
picture, the Minaret and towers of the Mosque
erected to the service of Mahomet. We
passed the Admiralty buildings, the Hermitage picture gallery, the British Embassy,
hearing as we passed the story of how our
countryman, Captain Crombie, met his death.
We crossed the square in front of the Winter
Palace, and at last found ourselves at the
headquarters of the “ Red ” Finns, and were
very hospitably welcomed by Mrs. Rachi and
her family.
It was very difficult to talk, because I knew no language but my own. Barry speaks French, it is true, but no one understood that much better than English. Yet what does language matter? When people are tired and hungry they are able to make their wants known without words, so we were fed, shown to our rooms, and were very soon in darkness. There was little or no sleep for me : the day's experiences would keep flood-