Trick
dog, evidently--one who springs at the throat of the assassin (the
assassin has a thin slice of sausage tucked inside his collar-button),
pulls him to the earth, and sucks his life's blood or chews his throat.
She, too, went through with a sweep--the dog beside her, followed by a
maid carrying two band-boxes, a fur boa, and a bunch of parasols closely
furled and tied with a ribbon. I braced up, threw out my shoulders, and
walked boldly up to the wicket. The be-buttoned and be-capped man looked
at me coldly, waved me away with his hand, and said "Nein."
Now, when a man of intelligence, speaking the language of the country,
backed by the police, the gendarmerie, and the Imperial Army, says
"Nein" to me, if I am away from home I generally bow to the will of
the people.
So I waited.
Then I heard the low rumble of a train and a short high-keyed shriek--we
used to make just such shrieking sounds by blowing into keys when we
were boys. The St. Petersburg express was approaching end foremost--the
train with the special sleeping-car holding the balance of the circus
troupe.
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