The train ran into a station illuminated by electricity; it was Kobe at last! The Russian Consul’s interpreter came to meet us at the railway station, but we didn’t hear the words through the noise of the gale. The only thing we made out was that we couldn’t start for Nagasaki to-morrow on account of the weather. We’ll have to wait here until the sea gets calmer. A French ship which had left Kobe in the morning had to return, being unable to continue her voyage.
We drove in rikshas to the Oriental Hotel through dark and empty streets.
Captain Andreieff, the commander of the “Mandchour,” a gunboat put at our disposal as far as Vladivostock, came to call upon us; we kept him for luncheon. It was awfully hot during the meal and a boy pulled a “punkah,” a gigantic linen fan running the whole length of the dining-room, hanging from the ceiling and moved by a cord.
In the afternoon we again visited the curio shops, where we saw a lot of pretty things, whilst half-naked boys, enveloped only in yellow gauze, were fanning us with wide palm fans, and flourished a feather-duster to keep the mosquitoes off. The master of one of the shops, stout and phlegmatic, sat perched on a high seat, his hands hidden in the long sleeves of his kimono. He rose when we entered, bowing and muttering something we didn’t understand. He ordered a pretty Japanese woman to bring us cooling drinks. When Mme. Beurgier asked him, through the interpreter, if the pretty creature was his wife, the fatty replied curtly: “She is my mistress.”
After having finished our hunt for curios we returned to the hotel just in time for dinner, and went to bed early, having to start at break of day. About the middle of the night the alarm-bell rang. I quickly got out of bed and ran out on to the gallery where I found myself face to face with a scared English lady in a scanty night attire, who told me that a fire had broken out in the neighbouring house. It was soon extinguished and we returned tranquillised to our beds.