THE CAMP OF MARTYRS
NEAR the entrance to the town, a motor car stood before a small house.
"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 and he entered after them, leaning on his tashur. As the door remained open, I could see and hear everything.
"Woe to them!" whispered the chauffeur. "Our officers knew that the Baron had gone out of the town with me, which means always a long journey, and must have decided to have a good time. He will order them beaten to death with sticks."
I could see the end of the table covered with bottles and tinned things. At the side two young women were seated, who sprang up at the appearance of the General. I could hear the hoarse voice of Baron Ungern pronouncing sharp, short, stern phrases.
"Your native land is perishing. … The shame of it is upon all you Russians … and you cannot understand it … nor feel it. … You need wine and
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