Half
of the platform of that station is in Russia; half of it in East
Prussia, the easternmost province of the German empire. All trains that
pass from one country to the other stop there. There are customs men,
soldiers, policemen, Prussian and Russian, who form a gauntlet all
travelers must run. Here passports must be shown, trunks opened. Getting
in or out of Russia is not a simple business, even in the twentieth
century. All sorts of people can't come in while a good many who try to
get out are turned back, and may have to make a long journey to Siberia
if they cannot account for themselves properly.
This train had stopped in the dead of night. But, dark and late as it
was, there was the usual bustle and stir. Everyone had to wake up and
submit to the questioning of police and customs men. About the only
people who can escape such inquisition at Virballen or any other Russian
border station are royalties and ambassadors. Most of the passengers,
however, didn't have to come out on the platform. In this case, indeed,
only two descended. One of these was treated by the police officials
with marked respect. He was the sort of man to inspire both respect and
fear.
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