I put up at Kamp's, an elegant hotel on the long
esplanade overlooking the port, and found the town, with its handsome
streets and spacious squares, to be a much finer place than I had
believed. When I inquired of the French director of my hotel for the
residence of his Excellency, the Governor-General, he regarded me with
some surprise, saying:
"The Baron lives up at the Palace, m'sieur--that great building opposite
the Salutong. The driver of your drosky will point it out to you."
"Is his Excellency in Helsingfors at the present moment?" I asked.
"The Baron never leaves the Palace, m'sieur," responded the man. "This
is a strange country, you know," he added, with a grin. "It is said that
his Excellency is in hourly fear of assassination."
"Perhaps not without cause," I remarked in a low voice, at which he
elevated his shoulders and smiled.
At noon I descended from a drosky before a long, gray, massive building,
over the big doorway of which was a large escutcheon bearing the Russian
arms emblazoned in gold, and on entering where a sentry stood on either
side, a colossal concierge in livery of bright blue and gold came
forward to meet me, asking in Russian:
"Whom do you wish to see?"
"His Excellency, the Governor-General.
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