as if it were the door of a
cupboard. And is not the box a cupboard? A cupboard I propose to open?
It remains to be seen if the guard in charge of the luggage is to
remain in this van. No. I find that his post is just outside it.
"There it is, all right!" said one of the porters, looking to see that
the case was as it should be, top where top should be, and so on.
"There is no fear of its moving," said another porter; "the glass will
reach Pekin all right, unless the train runs off the metals."
"Or it does not run into anything," said the other; "and that remains
to be seen."
They were right—these good fellows—it remained to be seen—and it
would be seen.
The American came up to me and took a last look at his stock of
incisors, molars and canines, with a repetition of his invariable "Wait
a bit."
"You know, Monsieur Bombarnac," he said to me, "that the passengers are
going to dine at the Hôtel du Czar before the departure of the train.
It is time now. Will you come with me?"
"I follow you."
And we entered the dining room. All my numbers are there: 1, Ephrinell,
taking his place as usual by the side of 2, Miss Horatia Bluett. The
French couple, 4 and 5, are also side by side. Number 3, that is Major
Noltitz, is seated in front of numbers 9 and 10, the two Chinese to
whom I have just given numbers in my notebook. As to the fat German,
number 6, he has already got his long nose into his soup plate. I see
also that the Guard Popol, number 7, has his place at the foot of the
table. The other passengers, Europeans and Asiatics, are installed,
passim
with the evident intention of doing justice to the repast.
Ah! I forgot my number 8, the disdainful gentleman whose name I don't
yet know, and who seems determined to find the Russian cookery inferior
to the English.
I also notice with what attention Monsieur Caterna looks after his
wife, and encourages her to make up for the time lost when she was
unwell on board the
Astara
. He keeps her glass filled, he chooses the
best pieces for her, etc.
"What a good thing it is," I hear him say, "that we are not to leeward
of the Teuton, for there would be nothing left for us!"
He is to windward of him—that is to say, the dishes reach him before
they get to the baron, which, however, does not prevent his clearing
them without shame.
The observation, in sea language, made me smile, and Caterna, noticing
it, gave me a wink with a slight movement of the shoulder toward the
baron.
It is evident that these French people are not of high distinction,
they do not belong to the upper circles; but they are good people, I
will answer for it, and when we have to rub shoulders with compatriots,
we must not be too particular in Turkestan.
The dinner ends ten minutes before the time fixed for our departure.
The bell rings and we all make a move for the train, the engine of
which is blowing off steam.
Mentally, I offer a last prayer to the God of reporters and ask him not
to spare me adventures. Then, after satisfying myself that all my
numbers are in the first-class cars, so that I can keep an eye on them,
I take my place.
The Baron Weissschnitzerdörfer—what an interminable name—is not
behindhand this time. On the contrary, it is the train this time which
is five minutes late in starting; and the German has begun to complain,
to chafe and to swear, and threatens to sue the company for damages.
Ten thousand roubles—not a penny less!—if it causes him to fail. Fail
in what, considering that he is going to Pekin?
At length the last shriek of the whistle cleaves the air, the cars
begin to move, and a loud cheer salutes the departure of the Grand
Transasiatic express.
Chapter VI
*
The ideas of a man on horseback are different to those which occur to
him when he is on foot. The difference is even more noticeable when he
is on the railway. The association of his thoughts, the character of
his reflections are all affected by the speed of the train. They "roll"
in his head, as he
cupboard. And is not the box a cupboard? A cupboard I propose to open?
It remains to be seen if the guard in charge of the luggage is to
remain in this van. No. I find that his post is just outside it.
"There it is, all right!" said one of the porters, looking to see that
the case was as it should be, top where top should be, and so on.
"There is no fear of its moving," said another porter; "the glass will
reach Pekin all right, unless the train runs off the metals."
"Or it does not run into anything," said the other; "and that remains
to be seen."
They were right—these good fellows—it remained to be seen—and it
would be seen.
The American came up to me and took a last look at his stock of
incisors, molars and canines, with a repetition of his invariable "Wait
a bit."
"You know, Monsieur Bombarnac," he said to me, "that the passengers are
going to dine at the Hôtel du Czar before the departure of the train.
It is time now. Will you come with me?"
"I follow you."
And we entered the dining room. All my numbers are there: 1, Ephrinell,
taking his place as usual by the side of 2, Miss Horatia Bluett. The
French couple, 4 and 5, are also side by side. Number 3, that is Major
Noltitz, is seated in front of numbers 9 and 10, the two Chinese to
whom I have just given numbers in my notebook. As to the fat German,
number 6, he has already got his long nose into his soup plate. I see
also that the Guard Popol, number 7, has his place at the foot of the
table. The other passengers, Europeans and Asiatics, are installed,
passim
with the evident intention of doing justice to the repast.
Ah! I forgot my number 8, the disdainful gentleman whose name I don't
yet know, and who seems determined to find the Russian cookery inferior
to the English.
I also notice with what attention Monsieur Caterna looks after his
wife, and encourages her to make up for the time lost when she was
unwell on board the
Astara
. He keeps her glass filled, he chooses the
best pieces for her, etc.
"What a good thing it is," I hear him say, "that we are not to leeward
of the Teuton, for there would be nothing left for us!"
He is to windward of him—that is to say, the dishes reach him before
they get to the baron, which, however, does not prevent his clearing
them without shame.
The observation, in sea language, made me smile, and Caterna, noticing
it, gave me a wink with a slight movement of the shoulder toward the
baron.
It is evident that these French people are not of high distinction,
they do not belong to the upper circles; but they are good people, I
will answer for it, and when we have to rub shoulders with compatriots,
we must not be too particular in Turkestan.
The dinner ends ten minutes before the time fixed for our departure.
The bell rings and we all make a move for the train, the engine of
which is blowing off steam.
Mentally, I offer a last prayer to the God of reporters and ask him not
to spare me adventures. Then, after satisfying myself that all my
numbers are in the first-class cars, so that I can keep an eye on them,
I take my place.
The Baron Weissschnitzerdörfer—what an interminable name—is not
behindhand this time. On the contrary, it is the train this time which
is five minutes late in starting; and the German has begun to complain,
to chafe and to swear, and threatens to sue the company for damages.
Ten thousand roubles—not a penny less!—if it causes him to fail. Fail
in what, considering that he is going to Pekin?
At length the last shriek of the whistle cleaves the air, the cars
begin to move, and a loud cheer salutes the departure of the Grand
Transasiatic express.
Chapter VI
*
The ideas of a man on horseback are different to those which occur to
him when he is on foot. The difference is even more noticeable when he
is on the railway. The association of his thoughts, the character of
his reflections are all affected by the speed of the train. They "roll"
in his head, as he
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