“Am I?” Sophie dragged her gaze away from the trees to look at her friend.
“We knew you wouldn’t let us down,” Delphine cried, clapping her hands.
“Really?” Sophie was puzzled. What were they talking about? Then, seeing her friends staring into the forest behind her, she turned to look.
In the distance, coming toward them on tracks she couldn’t have seen due to the deep drifts of snow, was a magnificent white steam train, with two enormous lights, like twin moons, at its front. She felt momentarily disoriented.
“But it’s coming from the wrong direction …”
The others were too excited to listen. They were jumping up and down on the platform, yelling.
There was a long blast on the whistle, an accompanying joyous screech of metal, and the train slowed down and finally stopped right where they were standing. A cloud of steam enveloped them.
And then, as they laughed with relief, the door of the engine opened and out stepped a man as tall as a bear, with black hair and beard. He was dressed in a white tunic with a black belt around the middle and gold buttons across one shoulder and all down one side. His black trousers were tucked into long black boots.
He walked toward the girls through the folding, spiraling steam, then bowed. As he stood upright again, he smiled broadly, showing square, white teeth. His eyes crinkled at the edges as if he were about to tell them a tremendous joke.
“At last!” he said over the hissing of the engine. “Marianne, Delphine, and my dear, dear Sophie! You are safely here at last!” His voice sounded exactly as Sophie thought a Russian voice should sound. Fat and roly-poly, the words knocking into each other like bowling pins.
The man bowed once more. “I am sorry I was not here to meet your train. Russian blizzards …” He shrugged. “But you were comfortable?” he went on anxiously. “You found the hut? I prepared everything in advance.”
The girls nodded, then looked at each other. It was as if they were each waiting for one of the others to say something. Sophie, who had felt so comfortable in the hut, now felt less sure about what to do. It felt rude to have a discussion in front of the man about whether they should go with him or not, but then … they didn’t know him!
The man opened another carriage door and stood to one side, holding it with one hand, the other stretched out toward them. “But make haste! We must get out of the cold. Frost bites more deeply than the wolf!”
Through the steam, Sophie saw the head of an animal painted in silver on the side of the train. Mouth open, teeth bared, as if about to snap its fierce jaws shut on the soft body of its prey. A wolf.
“My luggage …” said Delphine.
“I will dig it out!” said the man.
His openness and assurance appeared to give Delphine confidence. She stepped toward him. “Come on!” she called over her shoulder as she took the man’s hand and climbed up the step.
“He knows who we are, but who is he?” Marianne whispered.
“I don’t know,” Sophie replied.
“I’m not sure we should go.”
“Well, we can’t stay here.”
“But we shouldn’t go with him if we don’t know who he is.”
“Please do not delay,” the man said, looking more serious and glancing at the sky. “The blizzard will soon return.”
Marianne looked back at the hut. “What about the cat?” she asked.
“He belongs here,” Sophie answered. “And we don’t.”
Somehow that seemed to make up both their minds and Marianne and Sophie allowed themselves to be steered up the steps of the train and into an old-fashioned carriage. As she stepped inside, Sophie gasped in delight. Yes, this was the train she had imagined while wearing Rosemary’s mink jacket, sleeping in that chilly spare room! The sort of train that began adventures.
There was a pretty chandelier hanging from the ceiling, silver-gray banquettes with deep-set buttons, wooden cupboards above, and heavy, lace-edged blinds at the window. Sophie noticed that, although it was all very beautiful, many of the fabrics looked fragile and worn, like pieces in a museum.
Marianne stood uncertainly by the window and watched the man pluck the luggage out of the snow. He threw the suitcases up into the driver’s cabin as easily as if they were empty, slammed their carriage door shut, and walked to the front of the train.
“We still don’t know where we’re going,” Marianne said.
“Back to Saint Petersburg!” Delphine said. “You heard him!”
