absolute power over them.’
‘But I thought the system of serfdom had been abolished?’ I said.
‘So it has, Doctor, so it has. But it makes little difference. If you come of a former serf family, you may not leave your village without the permission of the village council. If you have land and wish to buy more or to improve what you have, you may not borrow money to do so unless the village council is prepared to guarantee your credit, which often they are not prepared to do. Serfdom has been abolished in name only.’
She had become more and more animated as she described the plight of Russia’s people.
‘You seem to have been deeply affected by what you saw,’ I commented.
‘I told you much of my own background - more than I have revealed to others - so that you should understand the impact which my journey through Russia made upon me. I have seen poverty and
misery in many parts of the world, gentlemen, but in most places - even in our snobbish old England - a poor man or woman may keep some pride and some hope. In Russia that is impossible. Its people live like farm animals, kept always under the eye, and often literally under the lash, of their lords.’
‘It sounds like the Middle Ages!’ I exclaimed.
‘That is exactly what it is like,’ she said. ‘Imagine a land as wide as or wider than America or Australia, with all the resources of such a land in agriculture and mineral wealth, with magnificent cities and a glittering upper society, and imagine that such a land has not advanced from medieval thoughts and systems. That is Russia.’
‘And you are sure,’ asked Holmes, ‘that the impression you brought back is the correct one?’
‘It cannot be other, Mr Holmes. It rests not only upon what I saw, but upon what many people
described to me. In addition, I had the assistance of Professor Gregorieff. He was only a student then, but he was already considerably skilled in Russian dialects and several continental languages. He was recommended to me as an interpreter, and he proved invaluable to me, not merely in assisting my journey and in making communication with the natives easier, but he has a very wide knowledge of his own country and was often able to confirm that what I had hoped might be some local aberration was, sadly, a widespread practice. Once he had joined me I found him so useful that I kept him with me all the way to Vladivostok. I could not know what it would mean.’
She gave no explanation of this comment. Instead she went on to describe the cumbersome lethargy of Russian administration and the many small difficulties which she had met on her journey. Like many countries which have a widespread and inefficient bureaucracy, it appears that often the only way to make progress was by bribery, and it appeared that Gregorieff had been adept at knowing exactly whom should be bribed and with how much.
‘I could, I suppose, have taken a carriage on the railway and kept it all the way across to Vladivostok, but it was my intention to discharge my commission properly, so we made many stops, sometimes for a day or two. This necessitated waiting for trains, which were frequently late, not by minutes, but sometimes by hours or even half a day. Mostly we travelled by larger trains, which compare very favourably with those in which I have crossed Australia, America and Canada, but sometimes my agenda or the vagaries of the railroad system necessitated using rackety little trains which shuttled along, stopping at every tiny village.
‘We had, despite these difficulties and our many stops, made a great distance into Russia and must have been nearly halfway across its entire length. Gregori had made clear that the train on which we were then travelling would stop at a number of small towns, virtually indistinguishable from many that we had visited. As a result I was looking forward to a fairly long, uninterrupted passage, during which I might catch up with my writing. We had a large and comfortable apartment on the train, with a sitting room and even its own kitchen, and Gregori told me that he had taken on a Russian woman to see to my comforts, so that I might get the maximum benefit from this part of our journey.’
She drew a long breath before continuing.
‘We had boarded that train in the late morning. All afternoon we traversed wild and lonely country, high moorland and forest. Only very occasionally did I see any sign of habitation near the track.
Gregori’s Russian woman had boarded with us, but kept herself to the kitchen. She served meals in my sitting room, but it appeared that she had no English, and my Russian, though I worked on it at every opportunity, was not sufficient to exchange more than the simplest courtesies with her. Nevertheless, she kept us well fed and, by nightfall, I was enjoying the peace of this interlude in my crowded and erratic progress across Russia.
‘Dark had fallen and Gregori and I were discussing certain items about which I intended to write, when our train came to a sudden and violent halt. After the squeal of the train’s brakes being deployed and above the sound of steam venting, I thought that I detected cries and what sounded like shots from the darkness outside the train. I knew of no banditti in Russia who waylaid trains as they still do in the United States, and I exclaimed in alarm.
‘Gregori jumped from his seat, looking thoroughly alarmed himself. “Stay here,” he said. “I will go and see what this is about. Do not leave your compartment.”
‘ “But who would stop the train?” I asked. “Only the authorities, I think, but I do not know why. Let me go and find out,” he replied and with that he left the compartment.’
Seventeen
An Incident at Night
‘Iwas not, at first, frightened. I think I was more annoyed that our train had been delayed once more. I assured myself that holding up trains is an American habit, not a Russian one, and that the sounds which I took to be shots were probably fired in exuberance.’
She drew another deep breath and stared at the table top.
‘I remained in that state of happy ignorance for a few minutes. Then I heard again what I imagined to be shots from outside. I parted the curtains of my compartment and peered out into the night. At first I could see nothing, because of the light from my compartment, but I lowered the gas lamps and looked again. Close to the railway line there seemed to be a group of mounted men, who were milling about, emitting occasional cries. The sounds which I had taken to be shots were, in fact, the crack of whips.
‘I still did not perceive any real danger. These men seemed to be drunk and noisy, and though I thought that I saw rifles slung at their saddles, there appeared to be no hostile intent.
‘I had watched them for a minute or two, more in curiosity than trepidation, when the compartment door opened and Gregori returned. He was white-faced and evidently deeply disturbed. “What is happening?” I asked him. He was so distressed that he began to answer me in Russian and had to begin again. “It is the local landowner. He has stopped the train.” “Why on earth would he do that?” I asked.
Gregori was so upset that he stammered. “There is - there is - someone - a young woman, a girl, that they think is on the train. She was employed on the estate here and has run away. He has come with his men to take her back. They are searching the train for her. You must give me your passport and travel papers. I will try to stop them searching here.”’
The muscles of our client’s face tightened at the recollection.
‘I was outraged,’ she said. ‘I told Gregori, “But serfdom is ended. Why should she not go if she does not wish to stay?” He looked at me helplessly. “It makes no matter,” he said. “Out here in the country, the landowners own the people as well. You must give me your papers.”
‘He was evidently deeply frightened and worried, so I put my passport and travel permits into his hand and he left the compartment. I seated myself and sat drumming my fingers with rage and frustration. I could almost have wished that Gregori’s attempts to safeguard my privacy might fail, so that I should have the opportunity of meeting this Russian hunter of young women and giving him a piece of my mind. While I sat, I could hear the sounds of disturbance as the search parties moved along the train from each end, nearing the middle where our carriage lay. After a while I could stand the wondering no longer and rose, intending to go and see what was going forward.
‘I had reached the door of my compartment when it burst open and Gregori plunged in, shooing me away and back to my seat. He was clutching my papers and tears were streaming down his face. I fell back into my seat and he took a seat opposite me.
‘ “What is it, Gregori? What is it?” He looked up at me, and his dark eyes were swimming in tears.
“They will find her,” he said. “They will find her.”
‘He had hardly spoken the words when I heard a door flung open near the end of our carriage and a burst of shouting. Above it rang the unmistakable cry of a terrified woman. I could stand no more. I sprang up, fully intending to see what was toward, but Gregori leapt up also and thrust me bodily back into my seat. “You must not,
