The two, which had come a day or so before from Milasláv, were indeed
wonderful turn-outs. The Prince prided himself upon his horses, which
were renowned throughout Europe.
The graceful shaped sleighs, with the drivers in their quaint liveries
standing up to drive, always unconsciously suggest that their origin
must have been some chariot from Rome.
Gritzko's colors were a rich greenish-blue, while the reins and velvet
caps and belts of the drivers were a dull cerise; the caps were braided
with silver, while they and the coats and the blue velvet rugs were
lined and bordered with sable. One set of horses was coal black, and
the others a dark gray. Everything seemed in keeping with the
buildings, and the semi-Byzantine scene with its Oriental note of
picturesque grace.
"Which will you choose to go in, Madame?" Gritzko asked. "Shall you be
drawn by the blacks or the grays?"
"I would prefer the blacks," Tamara replied. "I always love black
horses, and these are such beautiful ones." And so it was arranged.
"If you will come with Stephen and me, Tantino," the Prince said, "we
shall be the lighter load and get there first. Madame Loraine and Olga
can go with Serge and Lord Courtray, they will take the blacks; that
leaves Valonne for Sonia and her husband. Will this please everyone?"
Apparently it did, for thus they started. It was an enchanting drive
over the snow. They seemed to fly along, once they had left the town,
and the weird bleak country, unmarked by any boundaries, impressed both
Tamara and Jack. And while Tamara was speculating upon its mystical
side, Lord Courtray was gauging its possibilities for sport.
They at last skirted a dark forest, which seemed to stretch for miles,
and then after nearly three hours' drive arrived at the entrance to
Milasláv.
They went through a wild, rough sort of park, and then came in view of
the house--a great place with tall Ionic pillars supporting the front,
and wings on each side--while beyond, stretching in an irregular mass,
was a wooden structure of a much earlier date.
It all appeared delightfully incongruous and a trifle makeshift to
Tamara and Jack when they got out of their sleigh and were welcomed by
their host.
A bare hall, at one side showing discolored marks of mould on the wall,
decorated in what was the Russian Empire style, a beautiful conception
retaining the classic lines of the French and yet with an added
richness of its own. Then on up to a first floor above a low rez de
chaussée by wide stairs. These connecting portions of the house
seemed unfurnished and barren,--walls of stone or plaster with here and
there a dilapidated decoration. It almost would appear as if they were
meant to be shut off from the living rooms, like the hall of a block of
flats. The whole thing struck a strange note. There were quantities of
servants in their quaint liveries about, and when finally they arrived
in a great saloon it was bright and warm, though there was no open
fireplace, only the huge porcelain stove.