Prince Yuri Lubovedsky

Neither on that day nor on the following did anyone come to see us, but regularly three times a day we were brought food, consisting of milk products, dried fruit, and fish—black-spotted trout— and almost every hour our samovar was refilled. We either lay on our beds or went to the waterfall, where, to its monotonous sound, we memorized Tibetan words.

During all this time, neither at the waterfall nor on our way to it, did we meet a single person; except once, while we were sitting there, four young girls came by, but when they saw us they quickly turned aside and, passing through a little grove, entered the gate we had noticed on the north­west side.

On the morning of the third day, I was sitting in a shady spot by the waterfall and Soloviev, out of boredom, was wiseacring, in some way known only to himself, to determine by means of little sticks the altitude of the snow­capped peaks which rose before us, when suddenly we saw the boy who had brought us our first meal come running towards us. He gave Soloviev a note —a folded sheet of paper without an envelope.

Soloviev took the note and seeing the name ‘Aga Georgi’ written on it in Sart, he handed it to me in perplexity. When I opened the note and recognized the handwriting, everything went black before my eyes, so unexpected was it. It was the handwriting which I knew so well, of the man dearest to me in life, Prince Lubovedsky.

The note was written in Russian, and its contents were as follows:

‘My dear child: I thought that I would have a stroke when I learned that you were here! I am distressed that I cannot rush at once to embrace you, and that I must wait till you yourself come to me. I am in bed; all these days I have not been out and have spoken to no one, and only just this moment have I learned that you are here. Ah, how glad I am that I shall soon see you! I am doubly glad of it, glad that you got here yourself, without my help or the help of our mutual friends (in which case I should have known), for it proves to me that during this time you have not been asleep. Come to me soon, and we will talk about every­ thing! I also hear that you are with a comrade. Though I do not know him, I shall be happy to greet him as your friend.’