As the crowd instinctively made way for him, he looked sharply from side to side, evidently catching sight of Simon at the first glance — but taking no apparent notice. Turning to speak to a little man beside him, who wore a shabby coat and peaked cap which suggested some sort of uniform, he started to cross the street diagonally.
Simon knew the shabby individual to be a guide; he had just such another standing at his elbow, dilating to him on the history of the Ilyinka Gate. He turned to his man quickly. “Let’s go on,” he said. “I’m cold,” and he began to walk down the pavement to the point at which the Duke would arrive.
De Richleau looked round suddenly when he was nearly across the road, and seemed to see Simon for the first time. He waved a greeting.
“Hello! mon cher, and what are you doing in Moscow?”
Simon pretended equal surprise as they shook hands. “Over here on a holiday — thought I’d like to see some of the wonderful improvements they’re said to be making.”
“Indeed, yes,” the Duke agreed heartily. “All educated people should know of the great progress which is being made for civilization. I find it most interesting. Have you see the Mogess power station and the Michelson Works?”
“Ner.” Simon shook his head. “I only arrived last night.”
“I see, and where are you staying?”
“The Metropole.”
“Really! But that is excellent; I am there, too.” De Richleau took Simon’s arm and led him down the street — their respective guides, who had been interested listeners, followed side by side. “Are you alone?”
“Yes — friend who was coming with me let me down at the last minute — he couldn’t help it poor chap — lost his father suddenly!”
“Dear me. However, we shall now be able to see something of this fine town together.” The Duke spoke in loud tones, determined, that the guides should not lose one syllable of the conversation. “Some of the historical sights are of the greatest interest — and the museums, what treasures they have got! All the beautiful things that were formerly locked up in the houses of the nobles.”
“I saw the Kremlin this morning,” Simon volunteered. “But I was a bit disappointed really — I mean with the old part — Lenin’s tomb is worth seeing, though!”
“A marvellous sight, is it not, with all those precious metals sent from every part of Russia? The tombs of the Tsars are nothing to it. But you look cold, my friend!”
“I am,” Simon declared feelingly, and in truth his thin face was almost blue.
“But what clothes!” exclaimed the Duke, surveying him. “You must get furs if you are to stay here any length of time, or else you will be miserable!”
“I shall be here about a fortnight,” said Simon doubtfully.
“In that case — most certainly. We will go to the trading rows in Red Square at once.” He turned, and spoke rapidly in Russian to the guides; they nodded, and looked sympathetically at Simon. The whole party then retraced their footsteps.
“It will not cost you a great deal,” De Richleau added. “You see, if we buy well, you will be able to sell the furs again at a good figure before you go home. The comfort to you will most certainly be worth the difference.”
Before long they arrived at the Trading Rows, and after some sharp bargaining, which the Duke carried out with the assistance of the two guides, Simon found himself equipped in a fashion not unlike that of the traditional Cossack. In addition to furs, De Richleau insisted that he should have a pair of galoshes; for without these, no boots, however tough, could long withstand the continual wetness of the Moscow streets in winter; and as Simon looked about him he saw that everyone was wearing them.
“Let us lunch, my friend,” said the Duke, once more taking him by the arm when their purchases were completed. “The Hotel Metropole is not the Ritz in Paris, or our old friend the Berkeley in London, but I am hungry — so it will serve!”
Arrived at the hotel, the guides wished to know “the plans of gentlemen for afternoon”.
“Have you seen the Park of Culture and Leisure?” the Duke asked Simon.
“Ner, what’s that?”
“It is in the Zamoskvarechye — the River district; a great park where there is every variety of amusement for the people — volley-ball, tennis, fencing, a circus and a children’s town, a hundred things — it would be interesting — let us go there.”
“Um,” Simon nodded. “Let’s.”
“If situation is such, gentlemen will not need us?” proffered one of the guides. “Gentlemen can find their way?”
“Thank you — yes,” De Richleau answered. “I have the little map which you gave me.”
“What for evening-time?” asked the other guide.
“A theatre,” the Duke suggested. “I have been to the Arts Theatre already — what of Meyerhold’s theatre? That is where they have all the queer new plays — mechanical scenery, a complete break with all the old stage traditions — shall we go there?”
“Yes — I’d like to see that,” Simon nodded vigorously.
“Certainly,” the guides agreed; again they would not be needed; they would procure seats, and leave the tickets in the bureau of the hotel; was there any other way in which they could be of service? They were polite and anxious to oblige. “No?” Very well, they would call tomorrow morning.
The Duke and Simon were soon seated at a small table in the restaurant.
“Well — er — any news?” Simon asked at once, but the only reply he received was a by no means gentle kick, from the Duke’s big Hessian boot under the table. Then that amazingly interesting and erudite man launched forth into a long dissertation upon the marvels of Moscow — its wonderful historical associations lying side by side with all these modern developments, which, in another two generations, might make it the capital of the civilized world.
It was well that De Richleau talked fluently, and enjoyed talking, since the service of the restaurant was quite appalling. They had to wait twenty-five minutes before a waiter condescended to take their order — and another twenty minutes before the first course arrived.
Despite his anxiety to hear if any news of Rex had been secured by the Duke in Helsingfors or Leningrad, Simon remained patient through the long wait and the plain but satisfying meal that followed. He never tired of listening to the Duke, and the dullness of the fare was relieved by a large helping of caviare. Simon, who was patient by nature, could be especially patient if the caviare was good and plentiful!
Directly they had finished they donned their furs, and left the hotel, but De Richleau did not take the road to the River District. Instead he turned up the Petrowka Boulvarde, saying to Simon as he did so: “I feel that now is the time to ascertain about our Hoyo de Monterreys.”
“Um,” Simon agreed, “hope they came through all right?”
“Yes, but I did not wish to collect them until you had joined me.”
They walked on for some twenty minutes, turning occasionally to right or left; meanwhile De Richleau still avoided the subject of Rex, and continued his dissertation upon Moscow.
Simon looked about him with interest Moscow was quite unlike any large city he had seen — the great majority of the buildings were in a shocking state of repair, the paint peeling from shop-fronts and doorways. The windows broken, boarded over, or covered with grime. Nine out of ten shops were empty and deserted; those that were still occupied had little in their windows other than a bust of Lenin and a Soviet flag, except here and there, where long queues of people waited outside one of the State Co-operative Stores. In contrast to this atmosphere of poverty and desolation, a great deal of demolition was going on, and in nearly every street new buildings were springing up — great structures of steel, concrete, and glass.