"That's well. And what sort of a night?"
"Fine, sir; but dark as pitch."
"Thanks! Let me see; is it twenty-five roubles I owe you?"
"Thirty, sir, no less; more if you like."
"Here you are. Have you got a match? Take care: a spark, you know! Count them; three ten-rouble notes. Now, how am I to get into the town?"
"The road's not far on the other side of the line.—Nobody is to know how you got here, sir."
"I understand that. Many thanks! It has been a pretty rapid journey for Manchuria, I think."
"Yes. Live stock comes next to the Viceroy. Horses are none the better for being jolted over three hundred miles of rail, so they've let us pass several goods trains on the way."
"Any passenger trains allowed to pass us?"
"Not one."