The Tunnel,
When Completed, Will Be Thirty-Four Feet Broad, And Twenty-Five Feet
In Height.
A curious incident happened at one of the railway-stations between
Quetta and Karachi.
At the buffet of the one in question, I found
Gerome conversing volubly in Russian with a total stranger, a native.
On inquiry I found he was a very old friend, a Russian subject and
native of Samarcand. "He has just come through from Cabul," said my
companion. "He often does this journey" - ostensibly for purposes of
trade.
The 20th of April saw us in Bombay. An Italian steamer, the _Venezia_,
was leaving for the Black Sea direct, and in her I secured a passage
for Gerome, who was not impressed with our Eastern possessions. The
crowd of curious natives who persistently followed him everywhere
may have had something to do with it, for a fur-clad Esquimaux
in Piccadilly would not have created a greater sensation than my
companion in high boots, black velvet breeches, and red caftan in
the busy streets of the great Indian city. Only a Russian could have
existed in that blazing sun with no other protection to the head than
the astrachan bonnet, which he obstinately refused to discard. I saw
him safely on board, and something very like a tear came into my
trusty little friend's eyes, as we shook hands and parted, to meet,
perhaps, never again. For a better companion no man could wish.
Plucky, honest as the day, and tender-hearted as a woman was Gerome
Realini; and it was with a feeling of loneliness and sincere regret
that I watched the grey smoke of the _Venezia_ sink below the blue
waters, which were soon to bear me, also, back to England and European
civilization.
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