A few minutes later several officers and men ran into the house, greatly agitated.
“General, you are lost if you don’t get away in time!” one of them said.
Shortly afterwards Colonel Belonogov, a man of sterling heart, beloved by his soldiers even before the revolution, rushed in. He brought the same tidings, asking the General to hide. I joined in, imploring the Commander to conceal himself till the storm had passed. But he refused.
“Why should I hide?” he exclaimed. “What wrong have I done? Let them come and kill me! I have only done my duty.”
He went into his study and locked himself in.
The mob was moving nearer and nearer. There was a deathly pallor on the faces of all those present. Every minute or so some one would dash in breathlessly, with eyes full of horror, to herald the approaching tempest.
The tide of tumultuous humanity reached the house. There were cries and howls. For a second we were all in suspense. Then Colonel Belonogov said he would go out and talk to them and try to make them see reason. The Colonel had a gentle voice and a gentle heart. He never addressed even his own orderly in the ordinary fashion. When a little time before he had asked to be transferred to another position, his own soldiers persuaded him into staying where he was.
In a word the Colonel was an exceptional man. Without question there was no other officer in the Corps as fit as he to undertake the task of mollifying an excited mob. He went out on the porch and calmly faced the steadily increasing multitude.
“Where is the General? Where is he? We want to kill him!” the savage chorus bawled.
“What are you thinking of?” the Colonel began. “Come to your senses and consider the order. It was an order to relieve your own comrades, soldiers like yourselves. Now, you know that this was no more than fair. The General simply wanted you to take the places of your comrades.”