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Updated: June 4, 2025
"And the two French people, that couple so affectionate." I asked, "who are they?" "Have they not told you?" "No, Popof." "You need not be anxious, Monsieur Bombarnac. Besides, if you wish to know their profession, it is written at full length on all their luggage. "And that is?" "Stage people who are going to a theater in China." Stage people!
He insisted in the most pressing manner that not a moment should be lost. He spoke to Popof, to the driver, to the stoker, and for the first time I discovered that he spoke Russian remarkably well. There was no room for discussion. We were all agreed on the necessity of a retrograde movement. Only the German baron protested. More delays!
But there is one representative of the company who will not leave his post, and that is Popof, our head guard, a true Russian of soldierly bearing, hairy and bearded, with a folded overcoat and a Muscovite cap. I intend to talk a good deal with this gallant fellow, although he is not very talkative.
At the bar I get a little cold meat, some bread, and a bottle of vodka. The station is not well lighted. A few lamps give only a feeble light. Popof is busy with one of the railway men. The new engine has not yet been attached to the train. The moment seems favorable. It is useless to wait until we have left.
"And do they only speak Chinese?" "Probably; I have not heard them speak any other language together." On this information from Popof, I will keep to the number nine I have given to young Pan-Chao, and to the ten with which I have labelled Doctor Tio-King. "The American," began Popof. "Ephrinell?" I exclaimed, "and Miss Horatia Bluett, the Englishwoman? Oh!
The panel is raised, the car is shut, and I am alone in the dark. Evidently it must be Popof who has come in. What will he think to find me here? The first time I came to visit the young Roumanian I hid among the packages. Well, I will hide a second time. If I get behind Ephrinell's boxes it is not likely that Popof will see me, even by the light of his lantern. I do so; and I watch.
"I am in no hurry," I reply; "after this foggy day, spent inside the car, I am glad of a breath of fresh air. Where does the train stop next?" "At Fuen-Choo, when it has passed the junction with the Nanking line." "Good night, Popof." "Good night, Monsieur Bombarnac." I am alone.
As it may be interesting to learn how he was ahead of his time in regard to ideas about military balloons let us give the full statement of Popof on this matter. In 1812 in Moscow it was exactly as in 1870 in Paris; everybody built hopes on the military airship, and expected that by means of a Greek fire from a balloon the whole army of the enemy would be annihilated.
I see him hang on to the valves, and put his whole weight on the levers. "Go!" he shouts. I am off over the tender. I am through the van. I awake Popof, shouting with all my strength: "Get back! Get back!" A few passengers suddenly waking from sleep begin to run from the front car. Suddenly there is an explosion and a shock. The train at first jumps back.
The railroad not finished and they sold me a through ticket from Tiflis to Pekin? And I came by this Transasiatic to save nine days in my trip round the world!" In these phrases, in German, hurled at Popof, I recognized the voice of the irascible baron. But this time he should have addressed his reproaches not to the engineers of the company, but to others.
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