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Updated: May 3, 2025
I do not see him at his post by the side of Miss Horatia Bluett, whom I questioned on the subject after saluting her politely. "Mr. Ephrinell has gone to give an eye to his cases," she replies. In the rear of the second car Faruskiar and Ghangir have installed themselves; they are alone at this moment, and are talking together in a low tone.
Surely he will not have to worry himself about the mandarin Yen Lou, shut up in this traveling catafalque! Fulk Ephrinell and Miss Horatia Bluett? Useless to think of them when we are talking about palaces, minarets, mosques and other archaeological inutilities. The actor and the actress? Impossible, for Madame Caterna is tired, and Monsieur Caterna will consider it his duty to stay with her.
I don't know if the practical American murmurs at the ear of the practical Englishwoman the adorable verse which made the heart of Lydia palpitate: "Nee tecum possum vivere sine te," but I do know that Ephrinell can very well live without me. I have been quite right in not reckoning on his company to charm away the tedium of the journey.
I was about to interrogate Ephrinell on this point, when he said to me: "Have you ever been in the United States, Mr. Bombarnac?" "No, Monsieur Ephrinell." "You will come to our country some day?" "Perhaps." "Then you will not forget to explore the establishment of Strong, Bulbul & Co.?" "Explore it?" "That is the proper word." "Good! I shall not fail to do so."
Besides, as will be seen immediately, there was somebody else whose just suspicions had been changed into certainty, who only awaited his opportunity to denounce Faruskiar. We are now standing at the head of the train, Major Noltitz, the German baron, Caterna, Ephrinell, Pan-Chao, Popof, about twenty travelers in all.
It is a fine quadrilateral, perhaps a little spoiled by the fact that the Russians have paved it and ornamented it with lamps which would certainly, please Ephrinell, if he decides upon visiting Samarkand. On three sides of the square are the well-preserved ruins of three medresses, where the mollahs give children a good education.
From Lob Nor to Kara Nor there are three hundred and fifty kilometres to run, and between the lakes we will resume the interrupted marriage of Fulk Ephrinell and Horatia Bluett, if nothing occurs to again delay their happiness. The dining car has been again arranged for the ceremony, the witnesses are ready to resume their parts, and the happy pair cannot well be otherwise than of the same mind.
Fulk Ephrinell, dressed this morning just as he was dressed yesterday and detail to note with a pencil behind the lobe of his left ear, for he has just been making out an account for his New York house. Here is Miss Horatia Bluett, as thin, as dry, as plain as ever, her dust cloak over her traveling gown, and in place of jewelry a noisy bunch of keys, which hangs from her belt.
"Marry her?" "Yes! a treasure of a woman, well acquainted with business matters, holding a splendid commission " "My compliments, Mr. Ephrinell! You can count on me " "And probably on M. Caterna?" "He would like nothing better, and if there is a wedding breakfast he will sing at your dessert " "As much as he pleases," replied the American. "And now for Miss Bluett's witnesses." "Quite so."
Be assured it does not announce an accident. Its joyous tinkling calls us to the dining car, and we march in procession toward the place of sacrifice. Ephrinell and Miss Bluett are already seated at the little table in front of the worthy clergyman, and we take our places around them. On the platforms are grouped the spectators, anxious to lose nothing of the nuptial ceremony.
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