Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900Waddington, Mary King
History
Letters of a Diplomat's Wife, 1883-1900
Waddington, Mary King
Europe -- Social life and customs
We got off fairly punctually. I wonder if I shall ever see Varsovie
again. We stopped somewhere about 5.30, and found a charming little tea
waiting for us in a private room, served of course in glasses with
pieces of lemon, and excellent rolls and cakes. There we fraternized
with the Dutch Mission, who are also on the train. M. Schimmelpenninck,
a tall, stylish-looking man, with his son and gendre. The young men had
recognized W., having seen him at the Congres de Berlin; so they
recalled themselves, and we made friends. We agreed to take all our
meals together, and as apparently we shall have about 6 in the day we
shall probably see a good deal of each other.
We had rather a pleasant evening, dined (very well) at Brest, always the
same ceremonial; and after dinner some of the gentlemen came and paid us
visits. We talked of course about "La Grande Armee" and Napoleon's
campaigns, as we are passing over the same ground that they followed.
The two moujiks at the doors are most attentive and intelligent; as soon
as they hear any noise in our carriage, opening or shutting a window, or
anything falling (some of the heavy books slipped off a table just now),
they seem to divine it, and appear instantly and ask, I suppose, what we
want. We have no means of communication, but they evidently understand.
I was very comfortable last night in my little blue room, and had been
sleeping quietly, when I seemed to divine that someone had come in. I
didn't stir, and half opened my eyes, and for a moment was rather
startled. The lamp, shaded, was burning, and in came one of the moujiks
quite quietly. He moved very softly about the room, rather an appalling
figure, with his high boots, fur cap, and curious half-savage face
(gentle too), touched door and windows, fussed over the lamp, drew the
curtain of the dressing-room a little closer to keep out any draught
(didn't come up to the bed), and went out again just as quietly. It was
a curious experience, flying through the darkness of the night, and
wakening to see that strange figure prowling about.
About 7, I think, in the morning he reappeared, this time standing at
the door, and making many perfectly unintelligible remarks. It was so
evident I didn't understand that he smiled, made a despairing gesture
with his hand, and disappeared. As I was quite sure he would come back I
got up and fastened the door. In a few moments I heard a colloquy
outside, and then the voice of the engineer asking when I would like my
maid and my tea--also saying they would stop in about an hour for early
breakfast, and that mine and the Ambassador's would be brought to our
carriage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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