On November 13, recruits gathered in the great hall of the city duma. When checking it turned out that twenty-three people did not come to the draw. Then they will be found, punished and sent to serve, respectively, freeing those taken with high numbers. But sometime it will be, and today the mood of the youth has been lowered: few lucky numbers remained.
With the recruits came their relatives. They passionately discussed all sorts of opportunities to get rid of military service.
The bell rang. A minute later there was silence in the hall. The chairman of the draft board, a gray-haired man in pince-nez, smiling, invited the recruits to approach the urn and gave a sign to the clerk.
– Arkhipov! – rang out in the hall.
Everything is quiet. A blond guy came out of the thick of the crowd. His steps boomed loudly on the steps of the platform. He was breathing heavily. Sweat came out in large drops on his forehead. Rolling up his sleeve, the guy ran his hand to the bottom of the urn and took out the ticket rolled up. His hand shook.
“Raise the ticket higher and unroll it,” said the chairman.
Suddenly the guy’s face lit up, and he cheerfully, but still in a hoarse voice, shouted:
– Two hundred and eighty second!
– Well done! – the public roared to a friendly applause.
Podkovin worried. He did not like the behavior of Arkhipov. “In a firm step, calmly, in a clear voice,” Tikhon suggested to himself. The hall fell silent again.
“Tell me your number,” heard Podkovin and looked at the platform.
Near the urn stood a tall, curly guy in a new coat. The tassels of the belt with which the maroon woolen shirt was girded dangled at the tops of a varnished boot. The recruit’s lips were shaking, and he, choking on tears, babbled:
– The third st…
– Louder! – shouted those present.
“He has a third number,” said the chairman.
– In the guard of the young man!
The guy moved away from the platform.
– Podkovin!
“To rummage or not to rummage in an urn,” thought Tikhon, striding towards the platform. He took a ticket from the top layer and quickly turned it around.
– Thirteenth! – shouted Podkovin.
There was a loud, universal laugh.
Happy number! Well done! Do not be lost! By God, you will not perish, – said Podkovin, when he came down from the platform.
2
In the evening, in order not to hear the mother’s lamentations, Tikhon went to the Berezkins.
– Well? – in one voice asked him Varya and her mother. Podkovin stopped at the door and cried out:
– Happy!
– happy? – repeated Varya and, putting the work on the table – she was busy sewing, – got up.
Thirteenth, – answered Tikhon.
Brother Vari, Kostya, clutching at his sides, laughed loudly.
– What is sold, you fool? – Mother grumbled. – Tikhon – a frontal one, his number is his neighbor, he could not escape soldiery.
The old woman, Berezkina, turned to the stove and raised the corner of her apron to her eyes. Her hunched figure shuddered.
– Poor Evdokia Ilinichna… I will go to her.
“And I’m with you,” said Varya.
Mother Podkovina sat at a table with tear-stained eyes. Varya ran to her and put her arm around her shoulders.
– Nothing bad will happen. Tikhon will return from the service tselehonek.
Weasel girls reassured Podkovina. The old woman loved Varia more than her other friends. Still sobbing, she said:
– God will hear the prayers of the mother. Obviously, he will return… But the human heart is changeable. Forget each other not for long…
Varya flinched. The last words of Evdokia Ilinichna burned her, as it were. She wanted to shout: “No, no, this will not happen to me. I know the price of love.”
Chapter three
one
In the barracks twilight. Near the gray walls, especially in the corners, hung haze. It was cold. The lamp, suspended under the arch, lights dimly.
Podkovin woke up from a jab in the side.
“Get up, you have to clean your boots,” he heard his neighbor’s voice.
Throwing back the blanket, he sat down on his bed and looked at his neighbor. The rookie rubbed his boots, but the desired shine did not work.
– You put on your boots and walk. As soon as they get warm, rub with a brush.
It was about six in the morning. In the second half, the barracks were still asleep: there were old soldiers there, and taking care of the boots, apparently, did not bother them anymore.
“Let me write a letter to my homeland,” said his neighbor, Podkovin, when he was finished with his boots. – In the village, I signed for others, if the paper that came. I can read the written, but the letters do not add up. Missed, – the guy sighed heavily.
– Get up! – the command of the person on duty was distributed. – Come on verification!
The barracks boomed. The air was even more saturated with the smell of rotten cloth and horse sweat. The soldiers’ clothes smelled like horses. Each rider has two horses, which he cleans daily.
Recruits went to the middle of the barracks and lined up along it in one row. All the clothes were still homemade. The lamp sparsely lit their anxious faces. The soldiers’ large red hands hung awkwardly along their bodies. Uncle came.
– Motin, why did you not clean your boots?
Motin’s bootlegs got off their feet: a minute ago he was back from the restroom.
“Just now, when I got up, I cleaned it,” answered Motin, frightened.
– Do not talk!.. Walk along the line with a goose step.
Motin turned red and out of order. He squatted on his haunches, put his hands on his sides and, without raising his body, moved along the barracks, throwing out one or the other leg. Ten more people were sent for Motin. The punished returned to their seats with bloodshot eyes. They breathed heavily and, bending down, rubbed their knees.
After checking and prayers, young soldiers were seated in beds for practicing “literature”.
“Prikshaytis, read” Our Father, “heard Podkovin. Prikshaytis – Lithuanian. He has a small face with a sharp nose, and eyes with flushed eyelids.
“Father us,” said Prikshaytis, blinking, and stopped. His lips moved, the fingers of his outstretched hands convulsively clenched into fists, his ears reddened, but no words were heard.
– Farther! – shouted uncle.
“Who else is in heaven,” exclaimed the recruit, delighted.
– What-oh! Again, “weigh”? – yelled uncle. “I suffer for fifteen days, but you have not learned five words properly!”
Prikshaytis face was covered with white spots, he wrinkled and closed his eyes.
– Why are you blinking?
But Prikshaytis still stood with his eyes closed, he only stretched his neck more towards his teacher. – So asks for a slap in the face…
The teacher came close to him and backhand hit on the cheek. Prikshaytis reeled, but resisted. Tears streamed down the rookie’s face.
Tikhona smothered anger. He jumped up, but remembering the words from the military charter, the first pages of which he quickly ran through, “Complaints about the chief can be brought individually and only for himself,” he sank down helplessly on the bed and turned away from the unfortunate Lithuanian.
2
At ten o’clock in the morning, Captain Ali-Aga Mehmetinsky, a senior battery officer, came to the barracks. On the large oblong face of the captain, a hunchbacked nose was sticking up. His head is bald, his thick mustache lay magnificently, his eyebrows raised, his brown eyes this time reflecting a grin. Small hands with thin white fingers, the captain held behind his back. Greeting, Mehmetinsky shouted:
– Antonov Valentin Pavlovich.
“I,” one of the recruits said.
– Are you illiterate?
The soldier babbled something in response, and the captain summoned Morozov.
– You are also illiterate. What is it? From the big city, and the illiterate sent. Why didn’t you study?
Morozov blushed deeply.
Mehmetinsky walked along the line and, smiling tenderly, called new recruits by last name, first name and patronymic, although he did not have a list in his hands.
– And we waited for you and thought: Siberians will not let you down… The same illiteracy as in the Baltic provinces, and in central Russia. Not good. An artilleryman must be well-educated…
The captain’s face became serious. The buggies sagged slightly, but their eyes still gleamed. Talking to the recruits, he squinted them.
“Keep your head straight and lift your right shoulder,” said Captain Podkovin. – Have you worked in the court of justice for a long time? Two years? And before that, he worked somewhere?
– Was a clerk. And my main occupation is a fisherman.
– Do you have a good handwriting?
“I, your Honor, do not want a clerk.”
– We’ll see. Who do the clerk do? See for yourself. And the clerk needs… Abramovich Moses Iosifovich! Are you a craftsman, a mechanic?
“That memory is memory. I read the list once and remembers everyone, “thought Podkovin.
– Good locksmith we need. What can you do?
– I can repair sewing machines, I made new locks.
– By the cannon lock do you make new?
– With the tool – everything is possible.
– Do you make a new gun? – Wishing to cheer the soldiers, asked the captain.
– Give the tool and the room, I’ll make you a gun. Only one mess around unprofitable.
“This is fine,” the captain laughed. – We will send you to the arsenal. Verevkin Matvey Karpovich… Was a cab driver? Do you know horses? That’s what we need. Be your ride. Good horses will give you a pair. Illiterate?.. If you quickly embrace the teaching, then you will be the senior fireworker. And you will have a riding horse, and you will command a whole platoon… Y-yes… Your diploma is weak, guys.
Twenty recruits went to their beds. Today they are exempted from general studies. The day was clear and frosty… Through the large windows, icy below, the sun illuminated the inside of the barracks. In the middle of it, between cast-iron columns supporting the ceiling, there is a wide passage along the whole room. On the sides, by the walls, in several rows were bunks of gunners; in the corners, where it was more spacious, older and younger fireworks were placed. In the aisle, young soldiers marched in groups. There were stomping and squawking platoon.
Before lunch, after being freed from classes, his neighbor approached Podkovin.
– Write me a letter something. To Oryol Province…
– Okay, I’ll write. What is your last name?
– Konevyazov.
– We will agree with you like this: you do your job, and I will write.
– How can it be without me?
– Okay. Do not bother me. I’ll write, then we’ll talk.
Half an hour later, Podkovin called him.
– Here is the letter ready. Read it out loud.
At first he stammered, and then, rather briskly, Konevyazov read:
“My dear parents! In the first lines of this letter I ask for your blessing, which will be indestructible over the grave of my life, and I kiss you warmly, and I also bow deeply in love. I send my bow to grandparents, brothers and sisters, and my uncle with my aunt and my dear wife a hot kiss, and I will write her a separate letter. May he love you all and be your own daughter.
I tell you all that my health so far, thank goodness, is good, and my soldier’s training is proceeding in its own way. And now I live in the city of Nerchinsk in the barracks, and all of us young soldiers were sent to the battery only from our lands eighty people.
We traveled for a very long time, twenty-five days, and all of Siberia. That’s where the spacious! There are few cities and villages, and more and more mountains and dense forest. In the mountains, gold is dug, and in the forests of fur animals are beaten. A resident of the local, in sight, in abundance. Log houses, under a skeleton roof. All around, even in the forest, hedges, and a lot of livestock.
Transbaikalia, where we now serve, is also a rich side, but it is painfully icy and snowless. You go out into the yard – and the boots freeze, and their tops are immediately exactly wooden. More than fifty degrees are frost.Trans-Baikal peasants (they are called here Gurans, and that is, the Old Believers are exiled) are engaged in arable farming and cattle breeding. Their cattle are small and non-dairy. Bread is eaten rye and wheat.
Although we traveled from the Oryol province to Nerchinsk for a long time, we did not get to the end of Russia. It can be said that the Amur River begins from here, which is more than three thousand miles long, and there is a gulf of different fish in it.
Once again, I wish you all good health. Write me a detailed letter.
Rookie finished and said:
– Good.
“No, not quite well,” Podkovin stopped him. – Sit down and rewrite the whole letter with your own hand, but do not forget to put your first and middle names. When you rewrite, insert more of your words…
3
A week later, Podkovina was summoned to the office of the battery and charged him with the correspondence of the lists of allowances. The senior clerk on the first day said to him:
– Read the statutes of the military service, and you will know literature better than your uncle, yes, and perhaps Feldwebel.
Every morning, until nine o’clock, Podkovin still had to be in the classroom language. He was jarred by the abnormal relationship between teachers and recruits. In the entire barracks there was not a single thoughtful uncle who would lovingly impart his insignificant knowledge on the charter of military service. They were all rough, petrified faces. Only anger was reflected in their views. They spoke or shouted in hoarse voices.
The uncle of the ten, in which Podkovin was listed, had one “tag” on his shoulder straps, that is, he was a scorer. Only with this tidbit he was different from the rest.
At first, the uncle abruptly took up the Podkovina: forced him to make jumps, turns, questioned about the ranks and names of the nearest bosses. All of his demands, which did not go beyond the framework of the training program for young soldiers, Tikhon carried out quickly and distinctly. But in the face of the guy it was clear that he was still unhappy. In his orders, a desire to set up the Shoe in front of the whole system in a ridiculous position, and Tikhon became alert. Subsequently, it turned out that the guys and fireworks did not like literate subordinates, and the Shackles for the barracks was the “black sheep”.
The unkindness of the uncles to Tikhon intensified after the first days of his stay in the office. They followed him, listened to his conversations with his comrades.
Once, on a routine basis, everyone got up early in the morning, cleaned his boots and made beds. There was a forty-degree frost in the yard. The windows were frozen from top to bottom. Despite all the efforts of recruits, their boots did not receive the proper shine.
The training in the ranks was conducted by Osipov, the junior fireworker, who was the separated chief of the fourth platoon.
– Attention! – the uncle has ordered.
Separated, pulling his chest out, walked up to a line of young soldiers.
– Great guys!
– Good morning, Mr. separate!
Junior fireworks quickly walked along the line.
The recruits kept their eyes on him. From the right flank, he turned back and frowned, staring at the feet of the soldiers.
“Why are boots poorly cleaned?” Loafers! Pay for the first and second!
Half a minute has passed.
– The first – to the right, the second – to the left!..
The soldiers turned and found themselves face to face.
– Hit each other on the cheeks!
Podkovin received a slap in the face from a soldier standing opposite, but did not beat him. Separated jumped to Tikhon:
– Bay!
Tikhon was still standing, stretching his arms at the seams.
– To the right! Two steps forward!
Podkovin out of order.
– Konevyazov, come here! Shock Podkovina.
He-hit lightly.
– Bay is stronger! The fireworker commanded.
Konevyazov hit harder. Podkovin said:
– Sir, separate, report to the platoon about my beating in the ranks.
– Oh, are you complaining?!
– Yes, I will complain and demand that you be punished.
“Why didn’t you beat your neighbor, since I order?” – hoarsely asked fireworks,
“I know that your order is illegal and, therefore, I would respond with you.” Why do I need it?
There was silence. All pulled neck. Separate reddened.
– What will happen to me if I download a stronger ear?
Raising his shoulders, the separated walked over to Tikhon and raised his right hand.
“Lose your titles and get into a disciplinary company,” answered Loudly, loudly, rejoicing at the question.
The fireworks hand dropped and he stepped back a step.
– Report in detail! – shouted Tikhon.
– Look, broke! Do not worry, report your disobedience…
The learning has begun.
In the evening Tikhon was summoned to the platoon.
– What are you, Podkovin, want?
“I want you to report to the Feldwebel about my beating in the ranks.”
“But you are guilty because you did not fulfill the order of the chief.”
– you, mister platoon, allow to beat the soldiers?
– Guilty.
– Then, if you do not give up your words, you will answer as well.
– This is too… Go!
Turning around, Tikhon glanced at the nearby young soldiers. They nodded their heads approvingly. From afar, Podkovin saw that his neighbor, Konevyazov, was sitting on coal. He would have jumped, but was afraid to betray his excitement.
– So the statute says? He asked in a whisper.
– Clear. You do not hit anyone else…
– Now they swell. You said well in front of the line: as if only for yourself, but there will be benefits for everyone…
The soldiers saw that in the last three evenings the statute did not go out of the hands of the teachers, who were gathered in groups. Separated Ostapov fell silent. Lessons in literature were now without slaps and goose steps.
More and more often, the teachings on the question: “Who is our external enemy?” – the word slipped: Japan. For the first time in the barracks it was mentioned by Lieutenant Karamyshev. Testing the work of teachers, he asked young soldiers questions about “internal” and “external” enemies, and he himself replied that Japan was the external enemy in the Far East, which was preparing hard for war with Russia.
Chapter four
one
In the beginning of January, Modest Vladimirovich Inov with his family left Harbin for Dalny to work as an assistant director in the branch of the Russian-Chinese Bank. The small town, originally laid out on the beach, first liked Valais. Enveloped on one side by hills and bays on the other, it was not like the cold Irkutsk and dusty Harbin. It was a lot of exotic, and in the early days he fascinated the girl. Most of all she liked the beautiful harbor, filled with huge steamships. The long pier protected the inner pond from the swell. In the streets, among the original red-brick buildings, lively crowds often gathered from Russian, German, French, American and English sailors. There were also negros who stood out for their curly hair and tall stature. There were shouts and curses in different languages around Chinese shops and stores.
The Japanese kept themselves apart. Anger and envy were concentrated on their yellow faces.They viewed the harbor, ships, new buildings and merry Russian sailors frowningly.
A capacious theater was erected near the sea. The cathedral, hospital and city government were already built.
From the very first days of her stay in the Far, Valya noticed that in the town they live happily, even too merrily and carelessly.
Inova occupied a beautifully furnished apartment. The whole furnishings of the apartment belonged to the bank and were handed over to the newly arrived employees during their work in the city of Dalny.
Two weeks after arrival, Modest Vladimirovich gave a semi-official evening, to which representatives of the city, military units, as well as commercial dealers, the bank’s main customers, were invited.
Inov’s wife, Serafima Prokopyevna, was worried. She wanted the first to come family colleagues, but the servant introduced Lykov.
– Old friend. Very happy.
Lykov, shaking his head, wanted to say something, but a group of guests arrived, and the hostess rose to meet them. In the first days of the arrival, the Inovy Lykov often came to them. Valya did not go into the living room when Lykov was there.
One of the guests, a supplier of the forest, obese, with a drooping chin and small eyes, after adjusting his long mustache, asked:
– What’s new, gentlemen?
“The Japanese are moving,” said Lieutenant Gladyshev.
“And the fortress is poorly armed, including Kinzhou,” said the captain in gold glasses, and his voice seemed to everyone somewhat squeaky and irritated.
“It’s unthinkable to imagine a fortress appearing by magic,” the colonel of the engineering troops remarked with a grin.
“They spent twice as many millions on a toy town Dalny,” the captain shouted even louder. – Meanwhile, the place chosen absurd. Firstly – far from the fortress, secondly – the device of the harbor requires tremendous costs and, thirdly – once far from the fortress, it is necessary to put batteries here against the attack of the enemy from the sea. One attack of the destroyers – and all commercial ships captured in the commercial port, will fall to the bottom of the bay. We need a fortress as a safe haven for naval military vessels, and not a trinket like the city of Dalny.
– Nikolai Stepanovich, you are an impossible person. You look at the surroundings from your bell tower… The main task of the Russians is the commercial development of the region. We must show the British, the French, the Germans, and the Japanese, that we are engaged in peaceful affairs on the Kwantung Peninsula.
– Politics, politics… Measure, but do not get carried away, do not forget the danger – the captain did not let up. – A fist hangs over your head, and you have a decoration with the words “peaceful construction”.
– Do not exaggerate the danger.
Modest Vladimirovich entered. The owner was an elegant and pleasant-looking man. His broad face with a broad forehead enlivened large light brown eyes.
– Hello, master. It’s boring without you, – rising from the table, said Lykov.
– Sorry, today I unexpectedly stayed in the bank.
Almost after Modest Vladimirovich, the mother and daughter of Lastochkin entered. Tanya Lastochkina looked at the guests with surprised eyes.
Lykov, leaning over to his neighbor the lieutenant, whispered:
– Here you, Lieutenant, and the first swallow.
– Pretty but impassable fool. I am familiar with her. Finger about the finger does not want to hit, and reads only the application to the magazine “Homeland”.
Tanya went to the room Vali. The captain was still arguing with the colonel. The lieutenant approached them.
Inov knew about the restless captain, whose judgments aptly hit the mark. He was disliked.
“I wish the currency would come and play,” the owner thought.
Serafima Prokopievna returned to the living room, accompanied by Tanya and Vali.
– Gentlemen, I ask for a glass of tea.
A Chinese servant appeared in soft shoes on high soles because of the drapery, followed by a fight with a dish filled with biscuits and sweets. None of the guests paid attention to the servant and the boy, dressed in silk national costumes. Everyone looked at Valya. Her large, oblong face was stern. She smiled with her eyes and that was enough: the guests saw before them a beautiful and calm girl. Valya matured. Thin wrinkles lay on her forehead near the bridge. Guests with a low bow shook the girl’s hand. The captain greeted the last. Holding her hand, he asked:
– Valentina Modestovna, play for us something. In this city, we so rarely heard good music.
Valya broke out. The words of the captain seemed to her the first technique of courtship. Without taking away her hands, she replied:
What do you? I’m just learning.
– Beg. The music is comforting, and I miss my family so much. I have a small, eyed daughter…
– Aaaa, – Valya gently stretched out and squeezed a hand to the captain. – We will choose together what to play.
The girl took a tray with sweets from the battlefield – he was waiting for her at the portiere – and went around all the guests.
The captain stood by the window.
“I would like to listen to Tchaikovsky,” he said when Valya approached him.
– I’ll play, Nikolay Stepanovich, but later. We do not know the guests… What do you say against the “Storm on the Volga?”
Nikolai Stepanovich nodded approvingly and thought: “What a clever girl, exactly like my Natasha.”
The musical play was listened to in complete silence, and when Valya finished, Lykov approached the piano.
– Divinely! Russian motives, our Volga…
How is your health, Valentina Modestovna?
The captain winced and stepped aside.
Valya looked at Lykov and smiled.
“Firewood and T-beams have been well studied, but I have not mastered the approach to people,” she thought.
“Play something else,” the lieutenant shouted. – Strauss waltz. While Valya was playing, more guests came up: the director of the bank and a trusted local large trading company Churin and Co. with their wives. Modest Vladimirovich announced that the dancing would begin now, and he sat down at the piano. The evening was lively. Valya danced with Lykov, the lieutenant and the captain, but talked exclusively with Nikolai Stepanovich. She asked him about his family, about his service, about the province.
“I do not know much about China, and even less about the Japanese… I turn red with shame…”
At the end of the dinner, men more and more began to be put to the glass. Lykov reddened and revived. The lieutenant purred the tune from the Merry Widow. The captain drank brandy, but with restraint. He stopped the lieutenant, who was headed to the living room.
– Let’s drink… I dug up the Martel cognac of the highest brand… A curious thing with a lemon… Let the girls play. From here it’s even better to listen.
Valya played a potpourri from Russian songs.
– Here it is, holy Russia! – exclaimed Lykov. – Let’s drink to the great Russian people, gentlemen! What are you pouring in there, captain? For the Russian people – and brandy? No, you need a glass of little white!
“Agreed,” said the captain. – Russian vodka is so Russian vodka…
They all drank and began to eat, and the captain stood with an outstretched hand.
– Well, you, Nikolai Stepanovich? – asked the lieutenant. Everyone turned toward the captain.
– And I will drink. But let me, dear Lykov, tell you, as a Russian man and a merchant, a few words … – The captain with an outstretched hand in which he held the glass, approached Lykov:
– Chase away the Japanese girl who lives with you.
– Allow me. This is my private affair.
– Not! This is a purely public matter! – cried out Nikolay Stepanovich. “In your house, not a beautiful Madame for your pleasure, but a Japanese agent.”
Lykov blushed deeply.
– It can not be! She accepted the Russian faith.
– I know. In Japan, Russian money contains a factory of Japanese spies. She is nicknamed the Russian Orthodox mission.
The lieutenant tried to pull out the captain.
– You forget, Lieutenant! I understand what I’m saying. With knowledge of the Russian language and with a prayer, it is much better to fool… No, this is a disgrace! The captain cried out again, responding to the puzzled looks of the guests. “We pay spies for our money, we warm them in our breasts… Laundresses, hairdressers, battles, tailors… All this horde of hundreds of eyes looks at what we are doing here and how many of us are on Kvantun. Try to hide from them and keep state secrets. All of them – rope loop, in which we stand with both feet. The time will come, they will pull at its end, and we will clatter… We will clash at full length.
Lykov lowered his head. Most of the guests thought, and the supplier of the forest said:
– It is necessary to pour on a glass and wash the eyes… The coppers and kept women were frightened. Eka, think, passion!
– You are a scoundrel! – screamed the captain. “Come out to the courtyard, I’ll rip you by the ears.” And here, you know, with ladies uncomfortable.
– What? What? – blinked eyes supplier of the forest.
“Let’s go for some fresh air,” said the bank director, frightened, and led the fat man to the porch.
– I’m sorry, gentlemen. But please carefully think about my words. Not today, then tomorrow is war, and we are hung up with helpful Japanese… Oh my God, when will everyone understand this danger!
The voice of the captain trembled. He wiped his glasses and made a general bow, he left.
– What an impossible person! – exclaimed the guests.
“You do not know Nikolai Stepanovich Rezanov,” said the colonel. – There is a lot of truth in his words. Japan is growing. Authoritative military experts do not deny serious danger. My colleague, engineer Colonel Velichko, who was sent here to draft the fortress, wrote in his report for 1899: “The more the port of Dalniy develops commercially and is more widely supplied with all port facilities – docks, marinas, coal, etc. he will be more suitable for the services of the enemy… And if the enemy seizes the port of Dalniy and will have to meet his concentration in Arthur, then the railway connecting the Dalniy with Port Arthur will bring him great benefit and allow him to concentrate under the fortress Yew significant siege means. “Undoubtedly, a trade port should have been built in Pigeon Bay and its adjacent gulfs. There was a project – to connect the channel of the western basin of Arthur with the Pigeon Bay. Then, of course, it would turn out very stable.
The noise in the dining room made Valya alert. She sat at the piano and waited for the captain, whom she promised to play one of his favorite pieces of music.
A lieutenant came swaying.
“I never expected it,” he laughed. – Lykov has a Japanese spy lives on. – The lieutenant, having learned about Lykov’s courting for Vale, was offended. – Merchant licentiousness! Naughty! Lykovschina!..
Valya got up and, turning, looked sternly at the lieutenant.
– Where is Nikolai Stepanovich? Gone home? And you, Igor Sergeyevich, know Lykov well? I am not inclined to praise him, and yet, I beg you, do not lose respect for yourself…
The lieutenant instantly otrezvetel and clutching his head, ran out of the living room.
– What tactlessness! Tikhon would not do that, “whispered Valya.
2
As soon as Lykov went to visit, Sasha-san sat down at her desk and began to carefully write down the numbers from the railway consignment notes and steamship bills of lading.