The steamer, I learned, would call at Hango and Helsingfors. Would they,
I wonder, disembark at either of those places? Was the man whom I had
known as Hornby, the owner of the _Lola_, taking her to place her again
in the fiendish hands of Xavier Oberg? The very thought of it caused me
to hold my breath.
Daylight came at last, cold and gray, over those dreary interminable
marshes where game, especially snipe, seemed abundant, and at a small
station at the head of a lake called Davidstadt I took my morning glass
of tea; then we resumed our journey down to Viborg, where a short,
thick-set Russian of the commercial class, but something of a dandy,
entered my compartment, and we left express for Petersburg.
We had passed by a small station called Galitsina, near which were many
villas occupied in summer by families from Petersburg, and were
traveling through the dense gloomy pine-woods, when my fellow-traveler,
having asked permission to smoke, commenced to chat affably. He seemed a
pleasant fellow, and told me that he was a wool merchant, and that he
had been having a pleasant vacation trout fishing in the Vuoski above
the falls of the Imatra, where the pools between the rapids abound with
fish.
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