THE GOLDEN HAND.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVI, Issue 11229, 25 November 1899, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE GOLDEN HAND.

AN ADVENTURE IN RUSSIA. [by hudoli'ii stratz,*] CHAPTER I. A railroad journey through the Bessarabian steppes is infinitely tiresome. They extended in endless monotony behind and before the train, which had still a full clay's journey before reaching the boundaries of civilisation, Podwoloczyska. Nothing visible from the windows save steppes,• steppes! The undulating ground, covered with brown, scorched grass, seemed to streteli into the distance until, shimmering in the glow of the July sun, it mingled far away on the horizon with the pale-blue sky. What can be done for amusement in such heat? My neighbour and I had already exchanged various remarks without even the spice of a difference of opinion. We agreed that in such torrid weather it was unfortunate to bo able to get nothing except boiling hot tea at the railway restaurants; that the snail-like motion of the train was abominable and that the Russian empire was certainly one of the poorest products of creation. Then we relapsed into silence.. "You look ill," I remarked, after a pause, to my companion, a fair-haired man, apparently about 30. His intelligent, vivacious face was really not merely pale; its hue was actually yellow, to which the bluishwhite of the eyeballs and lips formed a singular contrast. "111?" repeated my neighbour, thoughtfully. "Yes, one would think so." "True, the heat—" "It had nothing to do with the heat." The stranger was gazing intently out over the steppes. "It was quite a different matter." "An adventure? Pray tell me about it." The charm of hearing oneself talk is great; doubly so upon such a monotonous journey. My companion hesitated a moment, then resolutely lighted a cigarette. " I don't think we shall meet again after ending this confounded journey at Cracow or Vienna," ho observed. "So I'll tell you n strange story: " Imagine that you are suddenly flying toward me, or I toward you; it doesn't matter. The cause would be precisely the samea railway collision. I have travelled a great deal, and am experienced in such things. When I see one of my fellow-passengers come flying toward me, I know it is quite time to leave the car, " This occurred a week ago, upon the railroad in Asia Minor, between HaidarPascha- and Ismidt. It lias only a single track. The Turks had started a train at each end, and trusted to Allah to bring everything out right. Allah neglected to do this, but he protected me and helped me to take a successful leap out of the car just as the train dissolved into its original parts. The first thing one does on such occasions is usually to feel oneself all over from head to foot, and is unable to repress lively expressions of satisfaction at the discovery of each uninjured limb. I accomplished this, found that my watch and pocket-book were still on my person, rose to see whethej there was'anything I could do, and to my amazement, saw that 'she' was sitting beside me. "I say ' she,'' because at that time I did not know her name. Yet, though absolutely ignorant of everything else concerning her, I remembered her personal appearance, which had impressed me when she entered the ladies' car in the station at Haidar-Pascha. A woman apparently about 25 years old, of medium height, with a slender figure, slender hands, narrow hips, still narrower shoulders, and on these shoulders a head—well, you have doubtless often seen such heads in' Little Russia— oval face, with a pale, yellowish complexion, thin scarlet lips, a straight nose, and beneath a low forehead, shaded by thick black hair, a pair of large grey eyes. • ; •Translated from the German by Mary J. afford. .■/ ,

"Afterwards I noticed that these eyes changed colour. On the sea they were actually blue. They could also turn green when Olga was angry. And this was not rare. A cat whose fur you rub the wrong way is a gentle creature by comparison. " At this time, however, she sat perfectly still on the ground, gazing with dilated eyes at the wrecked train above us. She had sprang from her uninjured compartment at the first shock and dashed down the hill. I saw at once that she had sustained no injury ; only a few blades of grass had become entangled in her thick locks, and there were large stains of dust on her grey travellingdress and buff kid gloves. The sight impressed me: A young lady sitting quietly and calmly, wholly unprotected, in Asia Minor, waiting for what might come next. There were no tears, no outcries, none of the demonstrations which women usually consider necessary on such occasions. "Yet she gladly accepted my assistance and, as I did not understand her Russian, thanked me in fluent but somewhat harsh German. We were the only Europeans in the train, which she, like myself, had taken for a pleasure excursion. A dragoman accompanied her, but the fellow was no longer of the slightest use. Still howling with fright, lie was casting greedy eyes at the chaos, which promised a rich booty for his thievish hands. "What was to be done? There was a truly diabolical uproar above, where both locomotives were still sending forth clouds of steam upon the rains; one fireman was dead, two porters were dying, trainmen were rushing to and fro shouting and gesticulating, passengers were screaming and stealing whatever they could lay hands upon. It was a terrible scene of confusion, and one which did not seem desirable for a 'Frank' to enter. I noticed this when I offered to render assistance, and went back down the slope. '"At home, we should have gone on foot to the nearest station. But the East, as you know, is the hind of poesy. There are still robbers, real robbers, with all their paraphernalia, and we two Europeans rambling alone upon Turkish soil would undoubtedly have been considered valuable prizes. " So we remained sitting side by side oil the grass. The situation was romantic, but I have always found that romance at close quarters is the most prosaic thing in the world. We must go to the theatre if we want to enjoy it' without discomfort. We did not talk much, but watched the confusion. The men had yelled themselves into a perfect frenzy, a number of veiled Turkish women were waddling and shrieking among them — the only sensible people were the wounded ones, who lay silently, a little apart, in the shade of a plane-tree. The sight of them consoled us. True, we had nothing to eat or drink, but we had escaped with whole skins, and probably should not be obliged to sit here for ever. " We had less time to wait than we expected. A cloud of smoke appeared on the horizon; a locomotive on its way to the next station rolled up and stopped, as if amazed, close by the scene of the accident. In such cases the much-abused backsheesh works wonders. The stranger and I were taken on the engine, and, as it was ordered to bring a wrecking train at once from the end of the line, we soon reached HaidarPascha, and a few minutes later, the hamlet of Kadikoi, whence there is a regular steam communication with Constantinople. We sat down on the landing to wait for the boat. "The place is marked in 'Murray' or ' Baedeker' with a star. It really does afford a beautiful view across the blue waters of the ISosphorus to the domes and minarets of Constantinople. Seen thus,' in the distance, the city looks bewitching. No one suspects the iilth which the gilded hogpen contains. " But we did not admire the view, did not gratefully thank Providence for our escape, as was our duty, did not sit hand in hand like .the hero and heroine of a romance, gazing at the sunset glow — no — we washed ourselves. It was absolutely necessary. The smoke of the locomotive had strewn a layer of coal dust over the white dust of the road, and through both were furrows made by perspiration. So we washed our faces as best, we could with our pocket-handkerchiefs on the seashore, which, be it remarked, is a doubtful process. After a thorough cleansing one has a crust of salt instead of dirt; that is the sole difference. Then we shook and brushed our clothing and once more looked as nearly human as is necessary in the East. " Olga Feodorovna had drawn off her buff gloves and put them in her pocket. Now with outstretched hand she pointed to the boat approaching from the distance. For my part, 1 did not look at the steamer. I was gazing at the hand, and whether with surprise or satisfaction, I really can't say— a thick gold ring. So she was married! ' Of course, I thought at once, young girls don't go wandering about the world in this way. It is singular enough for a married woman. " Olga Feodorovna seemed to feel this. Women often guess our thoughts instinctively. Slinking her hair back from her forehead, she sighed faintly, then said: "'I have wept a, great deal during the past few days.' After a short pause, she added: ' I parted from my husband yesterday. He went to Palestine.' "'On business?' "'Business?' she repeated, in a tone of mingled indignation and surprise. ' Heavens! Business in Palestine? What an idea! A pilgrimage, of course!' "' Pardon me, I could not know. I have never been in Russia.' "' My husband is a great merchant,' said Olga, without heeding my apology; 'but, nevertheless, he belongs to the extreme orthodox wing. His sins have long troubled him, and now he has determined to take this journey. He allowed me to go with him to Constantinople, from which I was to take the next steamer back to Odessa.' "' Why did not you go with him?' "' Oh, the journey was so long and so tiresome! You see what a country this Turkey is! He did not wish it.' " ' Well, surely you have nothing for which to atone?' '"We arc all sinners,' said Olga slowly, gazing thoughtfully out across the sea; 'but'— she glanced at me with a mischievous smile—' Ossip Timofeitsch will fast enough for us both.' " She was certainly a charming vision. The soa-breeze lightly tossed her dark locks and brought a slight colour into her pale face, the corners of her mouth twitchedmirthfully, while the large eyes rested upon me with the grave, earnest gaze of a child. I looked at her, and said as plainly as possible: " 1 Had I been in your husband's place, I wouldn't have left you alone.' "'Alone?' she cried half mockingly. 'Why, you are with me! And to-morrow I am going back to my relatives in Odessa. But there is the boat. Come!' "The steamer was tolerably full. Twilight began to close in. So we went down to the cabin, which was filled with a motley throng of passengers. Olga took her seat in a corner, sipped her tea, and gazed silently at the scene. She never talked much. An eccentric woman! Others in her place would have said volumes about the adventure just experienced. Yet this indifference was not assumed. She had evidently had many experiences, yet she was, so she said, far from her own home at Saratov, on the shores of the Volga, and was now returning there by way of Odessa and Moscow. "I thought it proper to give her some information about myself, but she did not appear to be interested. True, it is an every-day affair for a merchant to go on business from Hamburg to Constantinople and back. '"This is your first visit to the East?' she asked absently. ' It is mine, too. Take care. One is robbed of everything here. I have lost my watch, my pocket-book, and I don't know what else.' "'That is the fault of ladies' clothing,' I replied. 'I would like to see the thief who could get my purse. It is fastened round my neck with a leather strap. It would be necessary to kill mo before—' " At that moment a heavy shock warned us that in the dusk we had run into a large ship anchored in the harbour of Constantinople. Volleys of curses were exchanged. Then we backed, proceeded on our way, and landed at Galata. " The street railroad leading to Pera, the foreigners' quarter, had stopped business for the night, so we were obliged to go there on foot. Olga, of course, was at one of the hotels in that section, and it chanced to be the one where I had engaged a room. " Constantinople lay in deep repose. In the distance the blue. waters of. the Bosphorus sparkled, and the white minarets gleamed. ;v The dreamy atmosphere of the Orient pervaded the whole landscape. But I Olga, turning to me, said nothing bit: [ "' I am terribly hungry.' - 1, - '

" Not long after, we were sitting in Yan- | ni's restaurant on the Grand Rue. A Greek i waiter brought the menu. And we r.o I longer remembered that wo were strangers j a few hours before, but sat laughing :• nd j talking till I verily believe many people ' took us for a couple on a bridal tour. " Gradually Olga became gayer. She or- 1 dered champagne to celebrate our escape, ] hummed the air of a Cossack song, and j fairly shook with laughter when one of the ; waiters, in making change for an English ! captain, gave him a quantity of worthless 1 coins. Her whole face sparkled with mirth, ! Only her eyes retained their grave, almost • searching expression. I admired her more and more. While not positively beautiful, or only at certain moments, there was something so unexpected and fascinating about her. As she sat jesting and laughing she might have been taken for a gipsy, yet every gesture, every word, revealed the woman of the world. True, a European in that position would not have appeared in public with a man who was a stranger; but a Russian, and, besides, the singularity of the circumstances, apologised for a great deal. "Olga again became silent, which, as I have said, was her greatest peculiarity. "'Where can your husband be?' I asked suddenly. "'Wiio!' Olga Feodorovna asked the question absently, and then added quickly: ' Oh, my husband! Heaven only knows where he is. Somewhere on the route to Palestine. Well, may God preserve him.' " Again the corners of her mouth twitched mischievously. "' Olga Feodorovna,' I said, gravely, filling her glass with champagne, 'nobody compels you to tell the truth.' "' And yet I do,' she observed calmly. 'God sees falsehood. Or do you really believe that I am lying?' she seemed to find no affront in the suggestion. ' Well, then, come with me to Odessa. There you wilL meet my relatives. They will confirm everything I have said—show you the city.' Then she added, half dreamily: 'It is a beautiful place.' "Go to Odessa! The thought darted through my brain like lightning. I unconsciously began to consider it. I had nothing more to do in Constantinople, could leave at any moment, and, as my time was not limited, I need not hesitate about the circuit. "' One can reach Russia from here in 36 hours,' continued the tempter's voice. ' The Rossija leaves the harbour at noon to-mor-row. By that time you can have your passport vised by the Russian Consul. Passengers must be on board by twelve, at r.oon the anchor is weighed, at three we shall be in the Black Sea, and at four'— faint sigh —' sea-sick.' "' Why do you persuade me, Olga Feodorovna ?' "' Oil,' she answered, half scornfully,' it's a shame for anyone to be so near our holy Russia and not see it! I am under obligations to you for to-day's kindness, •••o I invite you to visit my home. You will not regret it. But as you choose! "Jo, sav ro more about it. I will hear nothing mire. We'll see who is on board the Rossija tomorrow.' "With these almost triumphant words she paused and gazed carelessly into vacancy. It had grown late. Only a few guests were still sitting at the little tables. Olga rose hastily. "' Let us go back to the hotel.' ' I paid the account, while she said, smiling: "' I'll give you my share on the ship.' "Then, taking my arm, we went to the hotel. On the stairs she pressed my hand. "' Till we meet again!' and she vanished. "I slept little that night. At sunrise I was up again and went to the window. The morning mist still veiled the city, the sea, the minarets. 'Allah is Allah!' echoed from one of the towers, while from the next came the answer: 'Sidi Mohammed rasol Allah! Allah is Allah, Mohammed is his Prophet!' Then from the distance floated: 'An hour to death! It is better to pray than to sleep!' and again: 'Allah is Allah!' "By Allah—l had made up my mind. The resolution was as firm as I have noticed is usually the case before our most foolish pranks. And not the smallest obstacle interposed, as I had half hoped. The hotel bill was paid, the passport, by the aid of backsheesh, vised with marvellous celerity, a ticket purchased, and at 12 o'clock, emerging from a throng of boats and shouting boatmen, I stood on the deck of the Rossija. " Olga Feodorovna, whom I had not seen during the morning, was already pacing the deck. Without the least sign of surprise, she quietly held out her hand: "Good morning. Did you have a good night's rest?' That was all. " I did not say much in reply. Her confidence really vexed me a little. We stood silently watching the confusion below. Hundreds of boats surrounded our vessel— freight boats, skiffs bringing guests from the hotels and their luggage, low caiques with dragomans, wherries laden with fruit— a motley throng. "Then we were gliding down the Bospliorus, past the countless palaces and villages glimmering in the sunbeams, the bare chain of hills, the pretty village of Bujukdere, farther and farther toward the Black Sea. Strong gusts of wind announced its vicinity. White foam-crests danced on the blue-black waves. "'The hares are coming out,' Olga remarks—a saying of the Russians. " The yards creak, and the dolphins leap in the water around the keel. Soon the ship began to reel slightly, which speedily passed into a strange motion, half rolling, half plunging. "I Iliad noticed that Olga Feodorovna grew paler and paler. Suddenly she held out her hand. "' Good-bye. I am going to lie down. I shall be sea-sick.' "She went to her cabin, while I, who am always well at sea, remained on deck in a very irritable mood. Clouds had darkened the sky; the wind whistled; the ship rolled ; and a shower of rain poured down, compelling me to go below. All the passengers who had escaped sea-sickness were seated at the well-furnished dinner-table— a couple of Greek merchants, an English courier, a Jew from Malta, a Russian cattledealer—a small but by no means select company. We had riot yet seen the captain. He remained on the bridge until his ship had gone far enough from the dangerous coast. The conversation, mainly in bad French, interlarded with a little Russian, turned, as usual at sea, upon the weather. Everybody wanted to prove that he had experienced more terrible tempests than his neighbour, and, amid the excited descriptions, we heard the waves washTng and gurgling against the ship's sides, and the groans of the sea-sick passengers in the cabins opening from the main saloon. The atmosphere was very close, reeking with petroleum, machine oil, and other unsavoury odours. The table rocked to and fro, rendering it almost impossible to eat. In short, I gave up my intention of dining, sat down in a corner, and listened to the conversation of the others. "The topic of the sea having been exhausted, the talk now turned upon the event of the" day—the murder of the Coventor of Odessa. Two young men had shot him on the promenade, and were seized and hung. Nihilists, of course! The mysterious word was spoken under the breath. It seemed as if no one trusted bis neighbour; that some disguised spy was sitting in the group. "' How do you know that there is no Nihilist here?' replied one of the Greek merchants, looking sharply at me. "This seemed rather too bold a question to the other, who added: "' Or at least on board the Steamer?' "' If the captain should hear that said somebody, timidly. "' The captain? What has the captain to do with it? If the passenger's passport is correct, that's all he has to look after. And forged passports—" "'Can be bought for ten rabies a-piece in Moscow,' said a deep bass voice. " ' You can't tell. ■ little father,' said a stout, pale-faced Russian, turning to me, ' who are in all the cabins. They are locked inside. Nobody sees the passengers' faces—' "' Well,' I remarked, ' they will all come out some time.' '"And what if they do? Do you suppose that these people lofik any different from the rest of us? They are usually small and delicate— too— sorts of folk.' "'Very pretty women!' said a brownskinned native of the Levant. ' Remember Perovskaja, little father." "' And Vera Sassulitsch!' exclaimed another. . ."' And Jesse Helfmann!' added a third, "'Well,' remarked the Russian, 'there are women on this ship. For instance, the lady with whom you were just talking. Do you know anything about her?' \, I "'I met her yesterday.' ;

| '"I don't iT.iau 10 say anything against | her— consider—a young woman travel- | ling about the world alone. Heaven knows i for what purpose—' ! "' She accompanied her husband, who has ! gone 011 a pilgrimage to Palestine,' I an- : swered, in an irritated tone. 'He started 1 yesterday.' ]* "'Yesterday?' said another Russian, a | short man who had hitherto taken 110 share iin the conversation. ' Did she tell you so ! herself?' 1 ' Yes. On a steamer belonging to the j Messageries Maritime?.' j "' Then tell the lady,' said the little man, | somewhat sneeringly, ' that the line of the | Messageries Maritimes lias sent 110 ship j to Jaffa for a fortnight, on account of the cholera.' " This was a severe blow. But the rest of the party confirmed the fact. I rose and went out. The rain was pouring, so I was obliged to seek my cabin. "' The most- uncomfortable thing about these cabins is that one is usually obliged to share them with a companion, and every time this happens one is again convinced that fate has chosen for this purpose the most- disagreeable person in the whole ship's company. " This time my comrade was sea-sick — very sea-sick. I shall waste 110 more words on the matter. One who has not experienced it will not understand that the most gentle-natured man, during such a night, cherishes thoughts of murder. "So I lay awake, pondering over Olga Feodorovna. Hitherto, I had persuaded myself that I felt no special interest in her. and was going to Odessa purely out of curiosity, Now with this news from Jaffa, I could no longer deceive myself. Yet doubt became all the more trying. Who is Olga Feodorovna, and why does she deceive me? Why did she insist that I should accompany her? She was evidently a woman of the worldthis was proved by her manners, her knowledge of the language, her simple, tasteful dress. Yet she travelled alone in this adventurous fashion by sea, A Nihilist? Was that the appearance of a- Nihilist? Nonsense! True, I had never seen one. So I pondered and wondered, till, at last, I slowly reached the conviction that she was some aristocratic Russian, who, from some whim, had rushed into this adventure, and desired my companionship during this tiresome sea voyage because—because— All, who could solve the riddle! (To be concluded next week.)