... It was characteristic-in the general turmoil attending the
conquest of the city, the chief railway station had been forgotten by
the victors....
Not a cab in sight. A few blocks down the street, however, we woke up
a grotesquely-padded _izvostchik_ asleep upright on the box of his
little sleigh. "How much to the centre of the town?"
He scratched his head. "The _barini_ won't be able to find a room in
any hotel," he said. "But I'll take you around for a hundred
rubles...." Before the Revolution it cost _two!_ We objected, but he
simply shrugged his shoulders. "It takes a good deal of courage to
drive a sleigh nowadays," he went on. We could not beat him down
below fifty.... As we sped along the silent, snowy half-lighted
streets, he recounted his adventures during the six days' fighting.
"Driving along, or waiting for a fare on the corner," he said, "all
of a sudden _pooff!_ a cannon ball exploding here, _pooff!_ a cannon
ball there, _ratt-ratt!_ a machine-gun.... I gallop, the devils
shooting all around. I get to a nice quiet street and stop, doze a
little, _pooff!_ another cannon ball, _ratt-ratt_.... Devils! Devils!
Devils! Brrr!"
In the centre of the town the snow-piled streets were quiet with the
stillness of convalescence. Only a few arc-lights were burning, only
a few pedestrians hurried along the side-walks. An icy wind blew from
the great plain, cutting to the bone.
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