Mother understood the seriousness of this trip, that it might mean the death of all three of them. They all accepted it stoically in the hope that it might save their country even though it could lead to the loss of their lives.
The presence of new guards produced another problem, but Colonel Kobylinsky promised that he would see to it that all who remained behind would be cared for by him personally and that he would have the few remaining old soldiers on guard in the house and watching over us. Countess Hendrikova and Mlle. Schneider were to move in with us.
When all the business was finished, late at night we all assembled in the large hall. All the employees, with tear-stained eyes, came to say good-bye to those who were leaving. Mother embraced all the women and Father all the men. After tea our friends from downstairs departed. The family did not go to bed; our friends also stayed up all night. At 3:30 A.M. tea was again served to the travellers. All changed into clothes for the trip and took with them a few valuables which could be sold, if necessary. But upon their arrival in Ekaterinburg, Mother’s and Marie’s handbags were searched and the contents confiscated.
Mother drew us daughters into our room. We gathered around her. Then and there I suddenly realized what Tobolsk had done to her. Mother’s hair was partly grey and her eyes were sunken deep in her head. Her beautiful skin was lined and transparent, and her neck thin and drawn. Her clothes hung on her wasted frame—she cared little how much she had aged. She was speaking slowly as if the choke in her throat would not let the words come through. “My only desire,” she said, “is that should we ever be scattered outside of Russia, I hope none of you will ever choose Germany, and that you will never do anything to disgrace yourselves. There will be some people who will try to put you in a compromising position—to take advantage of your youth. Always keep respectable. Never marry for wealth or power, only for love and devotion. The greatest happiness I can ask for you, if ever you will marry, is that you will love your husbands as I do mine, your dear Father, and we are thankful, for He has rewarded us by giving us such an understanding family.”
We fell on our knees while she prayed for our safekeeping. Then she drew each one of us to her and kissed us feverishly. She embraced us together, then tore herself from our clinging arms and started toward the door. Suddenly she was back again to hug us once more. Again and again she tried to leave. Each time she came back.
Until the last moment we could not believe that God would let this separation take place. Not only that we feared what would happen to them when they reached their destination, but there was the dangerous river to cross for which one closed carriage and several tarantasy (Siberian primitive open carriages) were provided, now that the ice was thawing. The night was dark and cold. It was safer to start early in the morning, because the river freezes overnight, and they had to travel in the middle of the river where the ice was thicker and safer.
Without a word, Marie clutched my hand; my arms flew around her. With burning cheeks our lips met. Then and there I felt that a great part of my life was gone. Marie was my other half.
Father was the most possessed of us all. He was so brave, parting from him was the hardest, for we might never see him again. Mother was gone. We stood there motionless, not yet believing, staring at the door she had just passed through. She was heading for Alexei’s room. We knew that she wanted to be with him alone. We could see into the room. She found him crying with his head buried under the covers. He always thought it was bad taste to cry before others.
Through the mist in our eyes we saw Father standing. He was white, but with a faint smile on his face, he said: “Come now, children. We will only be away for a short time. Hurry Alexei’s recovery so that he will be well enough to travel.”
Somehow we passed the intervening hours with the servants, those faithful few who had given us their all in their desire to lessen our suffering, friends whose loyalty had lightened our burdens. Now these friends were pouring out their love and devotion we so needed, all the time assuring us of their watchfulness over Alexei and ourselves. Nothing would happen to him or to us sisters. We never could have gotten through that night without our friends.