As the train bore her along the endless road, as day faded into night and morning dawned again along the illimitable plain, and sun shone and wind blew and clouds drifted, and meal-times came and passed like telegraph posts, the thought of her treachery—her double treachery—was ever in her mind, aching, desolating.
Her fellow-traveler's encouraging assurance that they would be at Gretz in an hour or two was an untold relief. At Gretz she hoped for tidings of Denzil. She had telegraphed, before leaving St. Petersburg, that she was starting, and asked to have news wired to Gretz. Her telegram, in its brevity, said nothing of the fact that she was coming alone.
Of itself, the idea of escape from the noise and motion of the train was something to be eagerly anticipated. To walk upon firm ground, to stand still, to sit upon a chair—these were boons indeed.
But when the train had departed, bearing with it the one creature with whom she was on speaking terms, and she stood upon the platform at the station and looked around at the dull, dirty town and the wild-looking people, she had a moment of sheer panic. How isolated she was! How the days had rolled by, without her being able to hear, either from the beloved aunt she had left, or the lover to whom she journeyed!
She shivered as she stood, for a heavy rainstorm had but just passed over the town, and everything seemed dank and dripping.
She drew out her paper, upon which the doctor had written down for her, "Drive me to the Moscow Hotel." "I want to stop at the post-office." "I want a carriage and horses to go to Savlinsky," and various such necessary formulæ.
It was only half-past ten o'clock in the morning, so she was determined, if a carriage could be secured, to stay only for lunch at the hotel, and start upon her journey at once. The friendly St. Petersburg doctor had seen that she had a store of tinned food with her, but it was with a sharp pang that she realized that however much she wished to supplement her stores she could not do so, as she could not say one word of Russian.
She found herself the center of a gesticulating crowd of men, all proffering unintelligible service, saying to her things which she could not understand. She could not pronounce the words the doctor had written down for her, though she had tried to learn. She had to show the written paper to the barbarian crowd that surrounded her. Its purport was, apparently, understood, for, with many gesticulations, and noises which she hoped and believed were of a friendly nature, she found herself conducted to a curious-looking vehicle in waiting outside; and, earnestly repeating "Hotel, Post Office, Posting-house," she got in, and was driven through such a slop of mud as she had never before encountered. Pausing presently, she found they were at what looked like a stable doorway. Her driver made signs for her to alight, and she concluded that he was explaining that he had brought her first to the posting-house to give her order, as it was on the way. She dismounted trembling, almost slipping in the filth, and, peeping through the half-open gate, saw a dirty courtyard within, where one or two ostlers were at work; and, facing her, across an incredible swamp of stable refuse, the door of a house, which was presumably the place where she must give her order. Gathering her skirts about her, she entered the disgusting place, and stood wavering, glancing round in desperation, and despising herself for her want of resource.
She saw that she had been imprudent in trusting herself, with no knowledge of the language, in such regions. But she was in for this journey now, and meant to win through to Denzil if she died in the attempt. She must not be deterred by the smells nor the mire of the stable yard: and she advanced with determination.
Just as she did so, two men came out from the door-way which she was approaching, and stood upon the stone step in the full light of day. One was presumably the Russian stable-keeper, a wild kind of person, but apparently amiable. He was in eager converse with a tall man, very well dressed, who held a cigar between his fingers.