150 STRAY- AW AYS 



was the Czar Alexander on his way to the Russina 

 church in the next street; Herr L. had forewarned 

 us of this, as a thing to be seen, in that hour of paternal 

 interest while yet the water-can was not upset, and 

 Madame's wig was still a crown of glory to the social 

 evening. We ran open-mouthed and panting through 

 a quarter of a mile of straggling crowd, and were 

 just in time to be late. The Czar had passed in 

 under the portiere of the church, Avhere a peal of little 

 bells was going stark mad, each kicking and clattering 

 as if dancing a hornpipe to a tune of its own, and the 

 red carpet was already being rolled up. A double line 

 of swarthy sailors from the Czar's yacht filed into 

 church from their attitude of attention in the mud, 

 and a group of gilded beings, who might have been 

 field-marshals or admirals, followed with a full 

 appreciation of the favour they were conferring on the 

 crowd. Special police and detectives were every- 

 where, though in ganile Khenhavn they have little to 

 do beyond enduring the humour of the street-boys, 

 who unfailingly detect the detective, and impart 

 the discovery to the street in time-honoured witticisms. 

 Since that day a greater protection has been 

 extended to Alexander III; he has lain in state 

 before his subjects with a quiet face, looking back on 

 death in impenetrable security, instead of the hourly 

 bracing of the spirit to meet it in all the poor vulner- 

 ability and preciousness of life. Here, at all events, 

 such a glimpse as ours of his existence was a glimpse 

 of holiday and respite from tension. Any day he 

 might have been seen in Copenhagen, escaped from 

 the detectives and going about the streets in trams, 

 or in a droitschke with half a dozen of his nephews and 

 nieces, all well furnished with toys and the delicious 

 Copenhagen sweetmeats. Even the Anarchists could 

 hardly have wished to defraud him of such unkingly 



