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and in the second one, an establishment where the lights blaze red, the attendants, attired as devils, greet the visitors making demoniac grimaces. The Cabaret Alexandre Bruyant is very amusing; the proprietor of this establishment well merits his surname of Bruyant (noisy.) He meets his guests shouting in a voice of thunder, and making mocking jeers. When an old lady with orange-coloured hair and a very powdered face came in, he exclaimed, “Oh, la belle brune,n’a-t-ellepasunteinteclatant?” (Oh, the dark beauty, hasn’t she got a dazzling complexion?) A general laugh arose. Then he came up to me and patting my shoulder roared, “Pauvre petite créature, comme elle a l’air maladif!” (“Poor little thing, how ailing and sickly she looks!”) The newcomers, feeling rather scared at being addressed in such a rough manner, and displeased at being made to appear ridiculous, wanted to get away, but when they saw that this queer reception was one of the peculiarities of the house, they settled themselves comfortably at separate little tables, and laughed in their turn good-humouredly at the reception of new arrivals.
The distribution of prizes at the Exhibition took place a few days before we left Paris. My husband received for our Turkestan section the Great Cross of the Légion d’Honneur. The Russian Commissaire, when packing up different objects, found it difficult to bring back to Tashkend a huge “arba” (a two-wheeled cart) and it was decided to leave it here and present it to some collector of curiosities. But no one wanted such a gift, and the commissaires had recourse to another means of getting rid of this encumbering “arba,” they asked a carter, promising him a good tip, to harness his horse to the cart and take it along as far as the highway leading to Versailles, and then leave it there to its own fate.
CHAPTER CXXIV KISSINGEN
Every day in Paris was too short for me, and I left the Great Babylon with immense regret. Sergy went to Kissingen to begin his cure, and I returned to St. Petersburg to publish my book.
About a week after my arrival I was on my way to Kissingen. Sergy wrote to me entreating me to come, as he couldn’t do without me, and had been very miserable since we parted. He said that he would give up his cure and start for St. Petersburg if I would not rejoin him. I telegraphed back that I was starting off immediately.
Spoilt by the comforts of my travels in Turkestan, I felt very uncomfortable in a train full of passengers. We were crowded together like herrings in a barrel. I squeezed myself into my place in the corner of the carriage, pressing close my elbows. My fellowpassengers were going straight to Berlin and I couldn’t stretch my legs the whole night to get the cramp out of them. We looked at one another with no great love in our eyes. I was placed by the side of a well preserved lady of about fifty years of age, trying to pass off for thirty, who had still the remains of what she had been in her young days and did not like to part with them. I caught her practising her fascinations in the mirror. She was accompanied by her daughter, a grown-up girl of about eighteen, clad in a short frock, with her hair down her back in a plait. When I heard them say “I reckon,” I knew they were Americans. My neighbour opened her basket and offered a part of her supper to me. She was most communicative respecting her own concerns, and chatted away like a magpie. She told me that they were going to do Paris, and spoke all the time of her conquests, stating to me that she had got all the men at her feet. I scarcely listened to her prattle, but she chatted on, accustomed to do without answers. Opposite me, sat a full contrast to that chatter-box, a
placid materfamilias endowed with three babies aged respectively five, four and two, who kept singing praises to the many charms and wondrous perfection of her offsprings. The children were petted and fondled by their mother, who crammed them all the way with bonbons and cake in profusion. Her little girl hugging in her arms an immense doll, began quarreling with her brother, an ugly and anything but well-behaved brat, with nose and mouth blackened with chocolate; they kicked and screamed until they were both black in the face. I only just stopped short of throwing my book at their heads. The baby, the pet of the family, was cutting a tooth and kept roaring the whole night.
We arrived early in the morning at the frontier of Prussia. At the Customs my trunks were unmercifully turned topsy-turvy, the horrid officials stirring them up as I used to do with my nursery pudding when all the plums had sunk to the bottom.
When we approached Kissingen, I thrust my head out of the railway-carriage, with my body half out of the window, to catch the first sight of my husband’s face. As we drew up at the station I perceived him on the platform, beaming with delight. I jumped out of the train joyfully, and the next moment I was in Sergy’s arms.
Kissingen is surrounded by mountains and buried in verdure. It is the favourite meeting-place for aristocratic Europe. There is a great rush of ailing humanity towards these healing waters.
I found Sergy comfortably established in a villa belonging to Doctor Sautier, by whom he was treated. The next day I accompanied my husband when he made his visit to the doctor. The drawing-room was crowded with patients who had arrived from all parts of the world. They perused magazines, and plunged their heads into large books of photographs, awaiting their turn to appear before the esculapius.
Early in the morning, as soon as I heard the postilion sounding his horn, I hastened to jump out of bed, and accompanied Sergy to the Kurhaus, where he took his waters. A beautiful string-orchestra
entertained the Kurhaus guests from six to eight. The sick, undergoing a cure, walk in the broad alley, carrying their glasses with them. They stroll from one spring to another, sipping the water on the way. We saw invalids in wheeled chairs, basking in the sun with a shawl over their legs, discussing and comparing their various diseases.
The outskirts of Kissingen are beautiful. We made long walks every afternoon; exercise gave me a ravenous appetite, and I was far from being satisfied with our meagre dinner when we returned home, being put on low diet like my husband, for company’s sake. We were kept with a discipline that was worse than that of a convent, and were all put to bed at nine o’clock, in accordance with the doctor’s order. I didn’t like at all to be under hospital rules, and began to revolt against this tedious discipline. At the end of three days I longed for change of air and surroundings, and wanted much to run away. I am sick to death of seeing the same faces every day and of hearing the same sort of talk of people drinking disgusting waters and occupied only with the engrossing pastime of taking care of one’s health. We have also become imaginary sufferers, and very often came upon Maria Michaelovna looking at her tongue in the glass.
The weather is bad again, it is raining all the time. The sick are promenading sulky and morose under their umbrellas, emptying their glasses in a melancholy way.
Sergy has accomplished his cure at Kissingen; the treatment had proved successful and his health was now gradually returning. I felt reassured for the moment. But Sergy, instead of seeking a spot for an after-treatment, hastened back to Tashkend, where he at once resumed his work, which had become more complicated than ever, thanks to the Boxer’s rising in China. The foreign diplomatists living in Pekin, are besieged by a hostile crowd of natives. The Boxers have attacked the newly-built Manchuria railway. When my husband was Governor-General of the Amour Provinces, and there was no sign whatever of a misunderstanding between China and European
countries, he formed the project of building a railway-line along the Amour banks, being against the construction of the Manchuria railway on a foreign land, but he was not listened to, and we see now the deplorable consequences.
CHAPTER CXXV
BACK TO TASHKEND FOR THE LAST TIME
Meanwhile I had a very tedious time at St. Petersburg, where I was to remain until autumn. It is odd that Sergy had not written to me for quite ten days. I was tortured by the fear that something had happened to him. I got at last a letter in which he told me that his health had changed again for the worse, and that he pined for me to such an extent as to lose his appetite and sleep, and that his lips had forgotten to smile. I must come back and cheer him a bit. Such a longing for Sergy came over me that I decided to leave for Tashkend on the following day.
I was in a fever to reach the end of my journey, and it seemed to me that the train was creeping at a snail’s pace. At one of the stations I received a telegram from Mr. Shaniavski, informing me that my husband was unwell and that the doctors had ordered him to remain in bed. I was awfully upset by that telegram, and my spirits sank lower and lower. I was haunted in the night by a nightmare of frightful reality; I stood before the cathedral in Tashkend, surrounded by a crowd of soldiers; suddenly an officer came out of the church and announced in a loud voice, “General Doukhovskoy has just passed away.” Oh! the horror of it! I woke in tears with a start, full of agony.
The more the time drew near for my arrival at Tashkend, the more nervous I became. My impatience increased from minute to minute. One can well imagine my amazement when, stopping at the station nearest to Tashkend, I saw my husband on the platform. He had left his bed to come and meet me. Sergy met me open-armed, whilst my heart beat so violently that I feared he would hear it. He had altered a good deal, and I was awfully shocked by the drawn look of his features. There was a large lump in my throat and I could not speak
for the risk of tears, but I made a strong effort, and, trying to conceal my anxiety, I forced a poor smile, and did my utmost to look composed and cheerful.
As soon as we arrived at Tashkend, Sergy went to bed again, but was all right on the following morning. The sight of my face was the best medicine he could have.
The clouds thickened on the political horizon, and questions concerning China began to occupy the public mind. The European powers, feeling alarmed, marched conjointly on Pekin; there were thirty thousand troops assembled there. They say that Russia is going to take an active part, and we have to apprehend a catastrophe any moment on the frontier of Turkestan. Our Russian consul, who did not feel safe at Kuldja—a Chinese town near our frontier asked my husband to send a platoon of Cossacks to protect him.
My husband’s governorship was not a bed of roses. It is a difficult career, requiring much patience, perseverance and delicate handling. Sergy did not know fatigue, working from early morning till late at night, and even when he went to bed, he tried to remember the things he had done and the things he had to do, instead of falling off to sleep. He was a man who had never seemed to flinch from duty, either for himself or others, and he required the same from his subordinates, but didn’t find the necessary support in them he ought to have had in such troublesome times. He looks awfully careworn and worn-out. The doctors spoke again of rest and change, and Sergy applied for leave. He thought of resigning altogether, to my greatest joy.
CHAPTER CXXVI
DEFINITE DEPARTURE FOR ST. PETERSBURG
I counted the last hours of my stay at Tashkend. At last the happy day of our departure arrived. Swarms of people came to see us start and wish a happy journey and a safe and speedy return to them. The leave-taking was very warm. How happy I should have been to say good-bye to Tashkend for ever! “Au revoir,” said my lips, and “adieu” whispered to me the presentiment that we shall never meet again.
The train began to move amidst loud cheers. I stood at the window of my car, with my arms full of flowers, exchanging smiles and nods.
We are back at St. Petersburg. I am so happy to push etiquette aside and live the life of a simple mortal. But the sword of Damocles was hanging over my head all the time. My husband’s illness had taken a sudden turn for the worse; he became thinner and paler every day, and the doctors ordered him a complete rest. This put an end to Sergy’s hesitations, and he begged the Emperor to permit him to resign his post in Turkestan.
On New Year’s Day my husband was named member of the State Council. Oh, how blessed it was to have done with Tashkend and all! Our wandering life was over now, the thing I had longed for year after year. I lulled myself with such sweet dreams for the future. But my joy was a short one. I soon saw sinister black clouds darkening my bright sky. Sergy was sinking fast, and was confined to his bed. I hated to see him in pain, and would have given all my blood to save him, but the Almighty predetermined it otherwise. On March 1, my beloved husband passed away. The awful circumstances of my dream, during my railway-journey to Tashkend, were realised, and
the world suddenly took a cold and dismal aspect; everything around and within me grew dark and chill. Ever since I was born, good fortune had marked me her own; there were many fairies at my cradle. Life had been too smooth for me, and so it took vengeance now for all my felicity of by-gone years!
The Emperor was present at a Requiem-Mass sung in our house. His Majesty said kind words of condolence to me, but I scarcely heard them. Happiness, peace, all that was scattered to the ground like a house built on sand, nothing remained of it!
There are griefs that are too deep to speak of, and too secret for pen and ink. I end my remembrances by these sad words:
Siberia—Sergy as Governor-General of the Amour Provinces, 362
Colonists and Emigrants, 370, 378
Convict Labour, 371, 377
Cossack Settlements, 373, 385
Official duties, 376-7
Postal Arrangements, 379
Roads, 371, 372
seealsoKhabarovsk
Sick Leave by Stratagem, 133
Singapore, 413-14, 421, 449, 475-6
Singapore to Suez, 478
Skobeleff, General, 145
Sledging with dogs, 383
Socotra, 424
Sorrento, 226
Soungatcha, travelling on, 372
Spa, 17
Starving Plain, 495
Steppes of Central Asia, 491
Stockholm, 269
Stuttgart, 21-26
Suez, 428, 441, 482
Suez Canal, 440
Sumatra, Cannibalism in, 478
Sunday in England, 21, 246
Sven-Hedin, 515
Sweden, King Oscar of, 246
Swetchine, Aunt and Cousins, 42, 86, 87
T
Tashkend, 495-502, 515-7, 519-22, 535-7
Tashkend to St. Petersburg, 489, 502-4, 522
Tiflis, 60, 65, 73, 131
Tiflis to Vladicaucasus, 67, 73
Tifountai, 384, 435, 454
“Tiger,” 137
Tokio, 352-55
Toumanoff, Prince, 113, 490
Toutolmine, General, 519
Trouville, 282
Turco-Russian War, 73, 75, 79-93
Turkish Barbarism, 103, 118
Turks in Erzeroum, 123, 125, 126
Turkestan, 487, 516
seealsonames of places
Typhoon, 355
Typhus fever in Kurdistan, 89, 92
Tzars
Alexander II., 33, 133, 137
Assassination, 142
Ghost, 147
Alexander III.
Attempt on, during voyage to Japan, 354 Coronation, 151-5
Death, 388
Nicholas II. Betrothal, 388 Coronation, 435-6
V
Vanderbilt, Mrs., 326
Vatican, 221-2
Venice, 30, 215
Ventnor, 244
Verona, 250
Vesuvius, 224, 227-9
Vladivostock, 362-7, 394-6, 453, 459
Volga, voyages on, 140-1, 510-14
W
Weidemann, Frau, and her boarders, 199-210
Wight, Isle of, 241-6
Windt, Mr. de, 383
Y
Yang-tse-kiang river, 400
Yokohama, 347-51
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