CHAPTER XLV
THE CAMPAIGN AT WARSAWA few hours later we were on the road once more,--Anne and Natalya in a travelling carriage, the rest of us mounted. The old servant was sobbing hysterically as she followed her mistress down the steps, but Anne's white face was tearless, though she turned it for a moment with a yearning farewell glance towards the fresh-made mound in the courtyard, the grave where we had laid the corpse of her mother, in the coffin which Mishka and some of the men had made during the day.
That hurried funeral was as impressive as any I've ever been at, though there was no service, for it would have been impossible to summon a priest in time. Besides, I doubt if they'd have got an orthodox Russian priest to come, for the Vassilitzis were Roman Catholics, as so many of th
