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.