The general opened the envelope and read.
“It is with extreme regret that we find it advisable to remove you temporarily from office and place you under domiciliary arrest until six o’clock to-morrow morning. During this period you are not to communicate with anyone whatever, by speech or writing, except your guards who will be with you constantly.
“There is no desire to dishonour you. If you will submit yourself quietly to this order, and will promise to make no effort to break its provisions, only the bearer of the order and his two lieutenants need accompany you. No attention will be attracted and the fact of your temporary restraint will never reach the public.
“Nicholas.”
The general stood there in the snow and stared at the paper. All his blood seemed to flow out of him.
His way to the Czar was blocked—blocked by the Czar’s own hand. He could not even send the intended reprieve. He was as helpless as though bound and gagged.
And his children would die under his own death warrants!
He knew the power he served too well not to know that his only course was submission. If he did not go quietly, he would go under a heavy guard, and the only difference would be the public disgrace.
He pulled himself together with a great effort and pocketed the order. “I will go with you,” he said to the captain.
The captain saluted.