The Diamond Chariot Read Online Free

mother-of-pearl hue.
    The lovely stranger took no interest in Rybnikov either. In reply to his ‘hello’ she nodded coldly, cast a single brief glance over her companion’s common features, his baggy uniform tunic and gingerish scuffed boots and turned away towards the window.
    The second bell pealed out.
    The female passenger’s delicately defined nostrils started fluttering. Her lips whispered:
    ‘Ah, get a move on, do!’ but the exclamation was clearly not addressed to her companion in the compartment.
    Newspaper boys dashed, gabbling, along the corridor – one from the respectable Evening Russia , the other from the sleazy Russian Assembly . They were both howling at the tops of their voices, trying to out-yell each other.
    ‘Woeful news of the drama in the Sea of Japan!’ called the first one, straining his lungs to bursting point. ‘Russian fleet burned and sunk!’
    The second one yelled: ‘Famous “Moscow Daredevils” gang strikes in Petersburg! High society lady undressed!’
    ‘First lists of the dead. Numerous names dear to all hearts! The whole country will be weeping!’
    ‘Countess N. put out of a carriage in the costume of Eve! The bandits knew she had jewels hidden under her dress!’
    The staff captain bought Evening Russia with its huge black border of mourning and the lady bought Russian Assembly , but before they could start reading, the door burst open, and in charged a huge bouquet of roses that wouldn’t fit through the frame, immediately filling the compartment with unctuous fragrance.
    Protruding above the rosebuds was a handsome man’s face with a well-groomed imperial and a curled moustache. A diamond pin glinted and sparkled on his necktie.
    ‘Anddd who is thissss!’ the new arrival exclaimed, eyeing Rybnikov intently, and his black eyebrows slid upwards menacingly, but after only a second the handsome fellow had had his fill of observing the staff captain’s unprepossessing appearance and lost all interest in him, after which he did not deign to notice him again.
    ‘Lycia!’ he exclaimed, falling to his knees and throwing the bouquet at the lady’s feet. ‘I love only you, with all my heart and soul! Forgive me, I implore you! You know my temperament! I am a man of sudden enthusiasms, I am an artiste.’
    It was easy to see that he was an artiste. The owner of the imperial was not at all embarrassed by his audience – in addition to the staff captain glancing out from behind his Evening Russia , this interesting scene was also being observed by spectators in the corridor, attracted by the mind-numbing scent of the roses and the sonorous lamentations.
    Nor did the lovely lady’s nerve fail her in front of an audience.
    ‘It’s over, Astralov!’ she declared wrathfully, throwing back her veil to reveal her glittering eyes. ‘And don’t you dare show up in Moscow!’ She waved aside the hands extended in supplication. ‘No, no, I won’t even listen!’
    Then the penitent did something rather strange: without rising from his knees, he folded his hands together on his chest and started singing in a deep, truly magical baritone:
    ‘ Una furtive lacrima negli occhi suoi spunto …’
    The lady turned pale and put her hands over her ears, but the divine voice filled the entire compartment and flowed far beyond – the entire carriage fell silent, listening.
    Donizetti’s entrancing melody was cut short by the particularly long and insistent trilling of the third bell.
    The conductor glanced in at the door:
    ‘All those seeing off passengers please alight immediately, we are departing. Sir, it’s time!’ he said, touching the singer’s elbow.
    The singer dashed over to Rybnikov:
    ‘Let me have the ticket! I’ll give you a hundred roubles! This is a drama of a broken heart! Five hundred!’
    ‘Don’t you dare let him have the ticket!’ the lady shouted.
    ‘I can’t do it,’ the staff captain replied firmly to the artiste. ‘I would gladly, but it’s urgent