“And what is that?”
“We were counting on a sleigh service to get us where we want to go, weren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Well — if you’re right about the railway line being finished, there won’t be any sleigh service — and it’s quite certain that the people at Turinsk won’t let us go on in the train.”
“That’s true,” said the Duke, thoughtfully. “Mon Dieu, how these people stink!”
“Pretty awful,” Simon agreed, and then both he and the Duke lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
The scenery was completely different from that which they had seen the day before; the train puffed and snorted excitedly as it wound its way, at a fair speed, in and out along the snow-covered valleys; they had passed the tops of the Urals during the night, and were now descending through the foothills on the eastern side.
The snow had ceased falling, and the sun came out at midday, but now, in the early afternoon, it was sinking rapidly, and dusk was upon them when they reached Turinsk just before five.
Turinsk seemed little more than a long, straggling village. The train actually ran through the high street, in the most populous part of which it came to a jerky halt.
Nobody asked for or examined their tickets, but Simon noticed that several men with lanterns went carefully along the train, searching each compartment to see that it was empty, and the soldiers and officials, who remained seated in the coach nearest to the engine, had their papers inspected before the train moved on. •