In The Presence of the Czar

I had been in St. Petersburg less than an hour and was still pondering
over the uncertainty of what first to do in order to begin the
difficult task that I had set for myself, when I was startled by a
sharp summons at my door.

It opened before I could respond, and a total stranger entered the
room. That he was an officer of that mysterious force known as the
Russian Secret Police I had not a doubt, but I greeted him courteously,
pretending not to see that there were others with him, who waited in
the hallway.

"I believe I have the honor of addressing Mr. Derrington," he said in
perfect English, making use of my true name which however, was not the
one mentioned in my passports, for I had crossed the border under the
name of Smith. I bowed and indicated a chair which he declined with a
wave of his hand but with a smile that was as genial as his face was
masterful and handsome. "Perhaps you prefer to be called Mr. Smith," he
continued. "It is, I understand, the name that is mentioned in your
papers."

"For the present, yes," I replied.

"I regret that I am compelled to place you under arrest, Mr. Smith, but
such is my unfortunate duty. You will have to take a short drive with
me. I hope that you will not be detained beyond your patience. Take
your wraps, and we will go at once if you please."

"Certainly. Shall I leave the keys to my baggage here?" I knew Russia
and I did not protest.