The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1910-06-24
CHAPTER XVII.
Off to Moscow.

Hardy never forgot that journey to
Moscow. For days the heavy train
rolled slowly along through a vast
park covered with illimitable stretches
of snow, or through leafiess, naked
forests, shivering in the cold blasts OF
winter. All the trains that passed
we're crowded with emigrants, bound
for the Amur region, and the car win
dows were thronged with the fresh, in
nocent faces of children. To many OF
the trains prison cars were attached,
bearing their sorrowful freight to the
dread island of Saghalin, which has
taken the place of Siberia as land
for deportation. From the windows of
these cars, also, many children looked
out, pressing their little faces against
the bars, for the condemned are al
lowed to take their families with
them. Hardy had long since realized
that he was in Russia, the Russia OF
the story-books and the magazine ar
ticles.
One evening a little before sunset
they came in sight of Moscow-an in
distinct blur Of houses, out OF which
doomed large and clear the towers and
domes of numerous churches, many OF
them overlaid with gold-leaf, and gilt
tering gorgeously in the light of the
setting sun.
At eight the train drew up in the
modern and commodious station at
Moscow, and the American, as he
looked about him, felt that he was in
the heart Of European civilization
once more.
Wang, who was invaluable through
his ready wit and his knowledge of
Russian, attended to the baggage and
engaged a sledge to take his employer
to the Slaviansky Bazaar, or hotel, the
best caravansary in the city, and a.
very sumptuous and comfortable inn,
as 1t proved.
For several days he devoted his en-
tire attention to business, comforting
with merchants and going over lists,
prices and accounts with Wang. Mean
while, whenever he went into the
streets, the interminable procession of
sledges was there, and he watched
them constantly, always with one face
in his mind-that graceful head held
so high, with it's crown Of hair the
color of ripe wheat and fine as spider
threads. Many ladies of pure Russian
type he saw, their faces peeping sau-
oily from collars and hoods of costly
fur, and often he would start and his
heart would throb more violently as
he thought he recognized the prin-
cess He would generally realize his
mistake, however, before the sledge
would dash by with its jingling bells.
He would have gone away without
calling on her had he finished his
business as quickly as the original
plan contemplated, but old Emery,
who had come up as far as Irkutsk,
kept writing to him, sending new
commissions. Emery, by the way, was
becoming jubilant. The diplomatic
relations between Russia and Japan
were growing less cordial every day;
the demands Of the latter country
were waxing more and more insistent
and difficult to evade The Japanese,
too, according to Emery's advices,
we're rushing preparations for death
grapple with the bear on a gigantic
scale.
This means war, my boy" wrote
the old man, land war means bust
nessl"
So Hardy worked away, enlarging
his acquaintance with the Moscow
merchants, while his respect for the
magnitude of their operations and for
the greatness of the city's industries
steadily grew
And one evening, as he walked home
to his hotel, he saw the Princess Ro-
manovna. There was no mistake
about it this time, and he realized
that, when it was indeed she, there
could be no mistake. She was lean
ing back in a sledge with high curving
dash, luxuriously piled with skins. On
an elevated seat in front sat her
coachman and footman, the former
directing the energies of four milk
white steeds. whose tails we're tied in
knots, but whose long names streamed
wildly in the wind Two of these
horses were running free, and, thus
untrammeled, the beauty and grace of
their movements was a sight to be re-
membered for a lifetime. The prin-
cess wore a white round cap Of fur,
and her cheeks, deliciously Redeemed
BY the excitement and the keen teeth
Of the wind, were snuggled IN the soft
collar Of = white fur cloak Hardy