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Red Cross Girls With The Russian Army

<h2>[158]CHAPTER XII</h2> <h3>Petrograd</h3> ON their arrival Barbara and Nona went with the wounded soldiers to a Red Cross hospital in Petrograd. There, to her consternation, a few days later Nona Davis became ill. The illness was only an attack of malarial fever, which Nona had been subject to ever since her childhood; nevertheless, the disease had never chosen a more unpropitious time for its reappearance. For a few days she seemed dangerously ill, then her convalescence left her weak and exhausted. She was totally unfit for work and only a burden instead of an aid to the hospital staff. Poor Barbara had a busy, unhappy time of it. She did her best to look after Nona in spare moments from her regular nursing, and she also tried not to lose courage when no word came from Mildred. Neither [159]from newspapers nor inquiries in all possible directions could she even learn whether Grovno had fallen. She was unable to read the newspapers for herself and so was compelled to wait until one of the other nurses could find time to laboriously translate the information into English. Evidently at the present time the Russian papers did not desire the Russian people to learn the fate of the fortress and its commander. For all news on the subject was carefully withheld. Under the strain Barbara might have broken down herself except for a piece of good fortune that at length came to Nona and to her. An American woman, married to a Russian, the Countess Sergius, learning of the presence of the two American Red Cross nurses in the Russian hospital, called at once to see if she could do anything for their comfort. Discovering Nona ill and Barbara on the verge of a breakdown, the American woman insisted that the girls be her guests. They were not able to be [160]of special assistance at the hospital under the present circumstances, while a week or so of rest and change might do wonders for them both. In answer to Nona’s protest that she was not well enough to be an agreeable visitor and could not bear the ordeal of meeting strangers, the older woman announced that the girls could live as quietly as they liked. She would let them have a private apartment in her house and they need see no one except the servants who would look after them. As the American Countess was undoubtedly extremely wealthy and most anxious to be of service, Barbara and Nona gratefully accepted her invitation. So about ten days after their arrival in Petrograd they were living in one of the handsomest houses along the famous Nevski Prospect. This is the Fifth Avenue of Petrograd, a wide avenue three miles in length. Nothing is small in Russia or in the Russian people. The girls were delightfully comfortable. One-half the third floor of the great [161]house had been given up to them, consisting of two bedrooms, a bath, and a sitting room where their meals were served. Indeed, the girls soon discovered that although the Countess meant to be hospitable and kind, she was sincerely glad that they wished to be left alone. She was an extremely busy woman, one of the important hostesses of Petrograd in times of peace. But now, like most society women in the allied countries, she was devoting all her energies to relief work. There were charity bazaars and concerts and Russian ballet performances, for the benefit of the soldiers, that must be managed day and night. After three days of luxury and idleness Nona Davis felt strong again. Perhaps more than the other Red Cross girls she deserved credit for her devotion to her nursing. For Nona had the southern temperament which loves beauty and ease, and there were times in her life when she had deliberately to shut her eyes to these enticements. But now, with the thought of Sonya [162]Valesky ever on her mind, she could not allow herself to relax an hour longer than necessary. Contrary to Barbara Meade’s judgment, Nona decided to ask the advice of their hostess as to how she should begin the search for her Russian friend. Instantly the American woman became less cordial. But when Nona had told as much of the other woman’s story as she dared, the Countess frankly discussed the situation with her. If Nona would be guided by an older woman she would give up the quest for Sonya Valesky. Certainly Sonya’s fate was an unhappy one, but she was wholly responsible for it herself. If she had been content to take life as she found it she would now have been occupying a brilliant position. The Countess evidently had no use for reformers or persons who break away from recognized conditions. She confessed to Nona that her own position in Russian society had been difficult to attain. Not for worlds would she be suspected of having [163]anything to do with a Socialist, or an Anarchist, or whatever dreadful character Nona’s friend might be! The Countess was perfectly polite, but Nona thoroughly understood that if she insisted upon discovering the unfortunate Sonya, her presence as a guest in the Countess’ home would no longer be desired. Since there was nothing else to do, Nona decided that she must wait until help came from some unexpected direction. She had no idea of giving up the search for Sonya. But in the meantime she could enjoy a brief rest and see Petrograd. In the winter time Petrograd is the most beautifully quiet city in the world. And now in war times it was scarcely less so, for the ground was covered with many inches of snow. There was a muffled sound even to the tread of the soldiers’ feet, marching through the frozen streets. Neither was there a single wagon or carriage to be heard, since everybody went about in sleighs and everything was hauled in the same way. But now, because all the best horses were at the front, one often saw great oxen drawing [164]sledges through the once gay and fashionable city. The Countess Sergius had retained only a single pair of horses for her own use and that of her big household, nevertheless, she now and then loaned her sleigh for an afternoon to her two American girl guests. Sight-seeing was the only amusement which kept Nona and Barbara from a morbid dwelling on their worries. Barbara had written to Judge and Mrs. Thornton in the way that Mildred had directed. But she could not feel that either of Mildred’s parents would feel any the less wretched and uneasy because their daughter believed that she was only “doing her duty.” Since the original letter Barbara had never been able to write them again. What could she say, except that no word of any kind had since been received from Mildred? There would be small consolation in this news, and of course Barbara wrote Dick every few days. One afternoon Barbara and Nona left the Countess’ house at about three o’clock and drove down the entire length of the [165]Nevski Prospect toward the Winter Palace of the Czar. There were scudding gray clouds overhead and a light snow falling. No one could have failed to be interested. The Russian streets are ordinarily paved with sharp-edged stones, but the ice made them smooth as glass. Over the windows of the shops the girls could see painted pictures of what the shopkeepers had to sell inside. This is common in Russia, since so many of her poorer people are unable to read. Most of the buildings in Petrograd are of stucco, and indeed, except for her churches and a few other buildings, the Russian capital resembles a poor imitation of Paris. Peter the Great, who constructed the city upon the swamp lands surrounding the river Neva, was determined to force Russia into the western world instead of the east. For this reason he brought all his artists from France and Italy, so that he might model his new city upon their older ones. The Winter Palace itself the girls discovered [166]to be a Renaissance building, with one side facing the river and the other a broad square. Their sleigh stopped by the tall monolith column commemorating Alexander the First, which stands almost directly in front of the Palace. Leading from the Palace to the Hermitage, once the palace of the great Catherine, is a covered archway. The Hermitage is one of the greatest art museums in the world and contains one of the finest collections of paintings in Europe. Although the two Red Cross girls had now been in Petrograd several weeks, neither of them had yet been inside the famous gallery. “Suppose we go in now and see the pictures,” Barbara proposed. “We might as well take advantage of our opportunities, even if we are miserable,” she added with the characteristic wrinkling of her small nose. “Besides, I’m frozen, and you must be more so, Nona. How I have adored my squirrel coat and cap ever since we came to this arctic zone! Thank fortune, our Countess has loaned you some furs, Nona! Do you know, I really am not so surprised that [167]your mother was a Russian noble woman. You look like my idea of a Russian princess, with your pale gold hair showing against that brown fur. Who knows, maybe you’ll turn into a Russian princess some day! But shall I tell our driver to stop?” Nona Davis shook her head, smiling and yet rather pathetic, in spite of her lovely appearance in borrowed finery. “I don’t want to be a Russian princess, Bab, or a Russian anything, I am afraid, in spite of my heritage. I think it a good deal nicer to be engaged to an American like Dick Thornton. If you don’t mind, let’s don’t try to see the pictures today. I am tired and we ought to be fresh for such an experience. If you are cold, suppose we go back into the center of the town and walk about for a while. Then we can send the sleigh home to the Countess. I don’t feel that we should keep it for our use the entire afternoon, and if we stop to look at the pictures it would take the rest of the day. There are some queer side streets that join the Nevski Prospect I should like to see.” [168]The Countess Sergius lived about two miles away from the Winter Palace. When the girls were within a quarter of a mile of the house where they were guests, they finally got out of the sleigh. Their driver was an old man with a long beard and not the character of servant the American Countess would have employed under ordinary conditions. But her former young men servants were in the army, and like other wealthy families in Russia at this time, she was glad to employ any one possible. However, Nona undertook to make the man understand that they would not need his services again that afternoon. She had more of a gift for languages than the western girl and her knowledge of French was always useful. So after a little hesitation, the big sleigh at last drove away. And actually for the first time since their arrival in Petrograd Nona and Barbara found themselves alone in the Russian streets. There could be no danger of getting lost, for they had only to come to this central thoroughfare and the Countess’ house lay straight ahead. [169]So the two girls turned into the side street that lay nearest them. After a five minutes walk they found themselves in another world. On the Nevski Prospect they were in Europe; here they were in Asia. It was curious, but even the smells were different. These were Asiatic odors, if the girls had only known, queer smells of musk and attar of roses and other less pleasant things. The Russian women and children were crowding the narrow streets, while inside the little shops the wares were displayed on big tables. In the summer time these goods were sold on open stalls in the streets. “Let us go into one of the shops and buy a few trinkets,” Barbara suggested. “I would like to own one of those embroidered Russian aprons.” Then she stopped, her attention caught, as Nona’s had been, by a sudden rustling in the air above them. A moment later a flock of gray and white pigeons was crowding about their feet. These also were the pigeons that haunt the thoroughfares of the east. [170]Personally Nona Davis would have preferred remaining outside in the fresh air. She was cold, but she objected to the squalid atmosphere of the interior of so many Russian houses. However, she could not refuse to agree to every request Barbara made of her all that afternoon. A moment later and she was almost as interested as the younger girl in making purchases. There were odd pieces of beautiful, gayly colored embroideries that, according to American ideas, appeared incredibly cheap. Then there were bits of Russian brass, that seemed to interest Barbara particularly, as it is probable that she had a sudden rush of the housekeeper’s ardor. Here were interesting things that might be purchased for her own and Dick’s apartment in New York almost for nothing! Whatever the cause, Nona, after fifteen or twenty minutes, found her own pleasure cooling. Moreover, she had very little money to spend on frivolities, and so found a stool in a corner and sat down to wait for Barbara and to watch the crowd. [171]There were numbers of people in the shop, although few of them seemed to be making purchases. Now and then a big soldier, crowned by his peaked fur cap, would stalk proudly in to purchase a trinket, possibly for the girl of his heart. The Russians are ardent lovers, and as the soldier was only at home on a short leave, he had to make the best of his opportunity. Most of the women who were not wearing furs had heavy shawls drawn over their heads and shoulders. Nona could not see their faces very well, and only received flitting impressions of dark eyes and large, heavy features, with almost always the curiously pale and yet sallow skin peculiar to the Russian peasant. It is only among the better classes that one finds other types. Suddenly Nona gave a cry of alarm, which she quickly hushed. To her surprise some one had quietly come up back of her and laid a hand on her shoulder. It was one of these same peasant women, wearing a heavy, dark shawl. She was trying to say something which [172]Nona could not at once understand. Yet it was plain enough that the woman was imploring her to make no disturbance that would attract attention. The next moment Nona had recognized the woman. It was old Katja, Sonya Valesky’s servant, whom she had left with Nika in her little hut. What had brought the old woman to Petrograd? In reality Nona knew without asking the question. It was Katja’s devotion to Sonya. The old woman was speaking a queer jumble of languages, Russian and the few words of English she had learned while the American girl was living in the same house. What Nona finally learned was, that Katja was imploring her to meet her somewhere the next day, where they could talk without being observed. Nona knew of no place except the one that was always open to rich and poor alike in Russia. And she had to think quickly. Yet the churches had always been their refuge ever since the arrival of the four Red Cross girls in Europe. [173]At the same moment Nona could only recall the most celebrated Russian church in Petrograd. She must lose no time, for even Barbara must not learn of her mission, and Barbara might turn and come back to join her at any moment. “In the Cathedral of St. Isaac, toward the left and in the rear of the church at three o’clock tomorrow,” Nona murmured. And Katja must have understood, for she went away at once. It was just as well, because at almost the same moment Barbara returned to join Nona, her arms full of queer-shaped packages, and looking happier than she had since their arrival in the Russian city. Back to contents <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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