Frenchmen and their companions into the last great rooms, all
dust-laden and filled with boxes without number, which were carefully
ticketed and stacked one upon another. Some were prized open with
bayonets; some had their pigskin covers beaten through by butt-end
blows; but whatever their treatment, there were always the same furs
and silks. There was no treasure.

My men had now fought their way through the outer crowd, and rapidly
flinging out coat after coat, suggested that sables were at least
worth the taking and the keeping. They selected two or three score of
these coats of precious skins, beautiful long Chinese robes reaching
to the feet, and tumbling them into emptied trunks, we went out as
soon as possible. We had had enough. The explanation of why the crowd
had not rushed through was in front of us. The remaining Cossack had
seated himself, carbine in hand, on the stone ledge at the entrance to
the inner courtyards and held everyone in check; just beyond hundreds
and hundreds of men stripped to the waist, glistening in their sweat
and trembling in their excitement, were waiting for the signal which
would let them go. I noticed that now there were old women, too. The
whole quarter was coming as fast as it could....

The Cossack grinned when he saw me appear, and looked with a shrug of
his shoulders at the sables. To him these were not priceless. Then he
explained his unconcerned attitude in a single gesture. He pushed a
hand down into his rough riding boots and pulled out one of those
Chinese gold bars which look for all the world like the conventional
yellow finger-biscuits which one eats with ice-cream. The rascal had
elsewhere come across some rich preserve and had his feet loaded with
gold--for he pulled out other bars to show me--and he did not care for
this petty pilfering. Then the Frenchmen began coming out, with the