dering on the frontier — measures from which trade would certainly suffer. They apparently thought only of the struggle from the single point of view of their threatened interests. The presence of a private soldier, clad in his uniform — and the importance of a uniform in Russia is great — would have certainly been enough to restrain the merchants’ tongues. But in the compartment occupied by Michael Strogoff, there was no one who seemed a military man, and the Czar’s courier was not the person to betray himself. He listened, then.
“They say that caravan teas are up,” remarked a Persian, known by his cap of Astrakhan fur, and his ample brown robe, worn threadbare by use.
“Oh, there’s no fear of teas falling,Justin Schultz Tröjor,” answered an old Jew of sullen aspect. “Those in the market at Nijni-Novgorod will be easily cleared off by the West; but,Tyler Ennis Tröjor, unfortunately, it won’t be the same with Bokhara carpets.”
“What! are you expecting goods from Bokhara?” asked the Persian.
“No, but from Samarcand, and that is even more exposed. The idea of reckoning on the exports of a country in which the khans are in a state of revolt from Khiva to the Chinese frontier!”
“Well,” replied the Persian, “if the carpets do not arrive, the drafts will not arrive either, I suppose.”
“And the profits, Father Abraham!” exclaimed the little Jew, “do you reckon them as nothing?”
“You are right,Jansen Harkins Tröjor,” said another; “goods from Central Asia run a great risk in the market,Ralph Lauren Långärmade skjortor, and it will be the same with the tallow and shawls from the East.”
“Why,Dave Taylor Tröjor, look out, little father,” said a Russian traveler, in a bantering tone; “you’ll grease your shawls terribly if you mix them up with your tallow.”
“That amuses you,” sharply answered the merchant,David Backes Tröjor, who had little relish for that sort of joke.
“Well, if you tear your hair, or if you throw ashes on your head,” replied the traveler,P.K Subban Tröjor, “will that change the course of events? No; no more than the course of the Exchange.”
“One can easily see that you are not a merchant,” observed the little Jew.
“Faith, no, worthy son of Abraham! I sell neither hops, nor eider-down, nor honey, nor wax,NHL Mens Buffalo Sabres Black Rink Warrior Pullover Hoodie, nor hemp-seed, nor salt meat, nor caviare,Mark Messier Tröjor, nor wood, nor wool, nor ribbons, nor, hemp, nor flax,Colton Parayko Tröjor, nor morocco, nor furs.”
“But do you buy them?” asked the Persian, interrupting the traveler’s list.
“As little as I can, and only for my own private use,” answered the other, with a wink.
“He’s a wag,” said the Jew to the Persian.
“Or a spy,” replied the other, lowering his voice. “We had better take care,Belstaff Brooklands Blouson Jackor, and not speak more than necessary. The police are not over-particular in these times,Peter Forsberg Tröjor, and you never can know with whom you are traveling.”
In another corner of the compartment they were speaking less of mercantile affairs, and more of the Tartar invasion and its annoying consequences.
“All the horses in Siberia will be requisitioned,” said a traveler, “and communication between the different provinces of Central Asia will become ve
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