And, on the Monday of the following week, Corsini set out on his expedition.
He had seen Degraux, who had congratulated him heartily. “Salmoros pulls so many strings; he can do more for you in a week than I could do for you in twelve months,” he had told him. “He has run several theatres for people he believed in. He will do anything in the world for you when he once takes a fancy.”
And little Anita had been very brave; she wept a good deal when she was alone, but in her brother’s presence she kept her tears back. Was she to oppose the feelings of her loving and undisciplined heart to the fiat of this new benefactor who had come so unexpectedly into their lives?
So she went meekly to the big house in Kensington, tenanted by the two dear old maids who were prepared to mother her, as much for her own sweet ways as from their ardent admiration for the compelling Salmoros, who had been a bosom friend of their father.
“Two or three months and I shall be back again!” sighed Corsini as he settled himself in the train. Little could he guess what the future would unfold as he made this confident prediction.
CHAPTER IX
Weary and worn with his long journey, Nello dismounted at the little wayside station about thirty miles from St. Petersburg. All passengers were peremptorily ordered to alight. Presently he learned that there had been a slight railway accident in front, and that he might have to wait two or three hours before he could get on to the capital.
He walked in the direction of the little village. There was evidently a great stir taking place in this ordinarily quiet neighbourhood. Mounted soldiers were drawn up before the old posting-inn.