Spring always came slowly to Poltava Province.
At first the snow disappeared only where the sun touched the ground more often. Dark patches of earth appeared along the roads and on the southern slopes of the hills. In the shadows of the orchard the last strips of grey snow still remained, slowly melting into thin streams of water.
The water filled the ditches along the road, and the heavy black soil gradually softened after the long winter.
That morning was cool but clear.
Pavlo Skoropadsky stood by the window of his study and looked down at the estate yard.
Several peasants were unloading planks and wooden barrels from a cart. Nearby stood crates filled with metal parts and tools. All of it would soon be sent further down the road — to the construction site near Hadyach.
The work there had begun only a few days earlier.
For now the builders were only marking the future foundation and digging the first trenches.
But even here, in the quiet yard of the estate, it was clear that something had already begun to move.
Two loaded wagons stood near the stables. The peasants were fastening the planks with rope, preparing for the journey. Within a few hours they would leave for the construction site nearly ten versts away.
Pavlo slowly ran his hand along the windowsill.
Only a few months earlier the idea of building a factory had seemed too bold to many people.
Some had even considered it reckless.
But now things looked different.
The work had already begun.
And once such work begins, it is difficult to stop.
Footsteps sounded behind the door.
A moment later the estate manager entered the study.
Hryhorii Stepanovych was a man of about fifty. His grey hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him a calm and attentive appearance.
He bowed slightly.
—"Pavlo Petrovich, may I come in?"
—"Come in, Hryhorii Stepanovych."
The manager approached the desk and carefully placed several sheets of paper upon it.
—"Another shipment of equipment has arrived. Not everything yet, of course, but it is a beginning."
Skoropadsky took the papers and quickly examined the notes.
—"From Kharkiv?"
—"Yes. We managed to find suitable distillation apparatus there. They are not new, but the master says they are in good condition."
Pavlo nodded.
That was even better than expected.
New installations were far too expensive. For now the most important task was simply to begin production.
He stepped toward the window again.
—"How many men are working there now?"
—"About twenty so far. When the main construction begins there will be more."
The manager hesitated slightly before adding:
—"To be honest, Pavlo Petrovich, people are still surprised."
Skoropadsky smiled faintly.
—"About what exactly?"
—"That a nobleman has decided to build a factory."
For a few seconds the room remained silent.
Then Skoropadsky spoke calmly.
—"If the nobility lives only from the land, soon it will have nothing left."
Hryhorii Stepanovych slowly nodded.
In recent decades many estates had already begun to decline. Agricultural income depended too much on weather, harvests, and unstable markets. Some landowners had already been forced to sell parts of their property.
Skoropadsky picked up the papers again.
—"When will we begin laying the foundation?"
—"In about a week. The stone has already been ordered."
He thought for a moment.
A week.
That meant the main construction would begin very soon.
Light footsteps sounded in the corridor.
A moment later the door opened and Oleksandra entered.
—"I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
—"Not at all."
The manager bowed politely.
—"Good morning, Oleksandra Petrovna."
—"Good morning, Hryhorii Stepanovych."
She walked toward the desk and placed a folder beside the papers.
—"These are letters from Poltava. One of the merchants has replied to your proposal."
Skoropadsky opened the letter and quickly read it.
The merchant wrote cautiously. He did not refuse cooperation, but wanted to see real progress before investing.
Pavlo placed the letter back on the desk.
—"Reasonable."
Oleksandra glanced at the papers.
—"Has the work already begun?"
—"Only the preparation."
She walked toward the window and quietly watched the activity in the yard.
—"To be honest," she said, "I still cannot believe we are actually building a factory."
Skoropadsky replied gently.
—"This is only the beginning."
She turned toward him.
—"You are still thinking about the mines, aren't you?"
For a brief moment a shadow passed across his eyes.
Kryvyi Rih.
But aloud he answered calmly.
—"For now we must finish this project."
Oleksandra nodded slowly.
She already understood that for Pavlo this distillery was only the first step.
Later Skoropadsky closed the folder.
—"I want to see how the work is progressing."
The manager immediately understood.
—"Then I will have the carriage prepared."
A few minutes later they were already leaving the estate.
The road toward the construction site passed through fields that were only beginning to awaken after winter. The ground was still wet from melting snow, and the wheels of the carriage sometimes sank into the soft earth.
Peasants were already working in the distance, preparing the fields for spring planting.
After some time the carriage stopped.
The construction site lay beside the road leading to Hadyach.
Workers had already marked the outline of the future building with wooden stakes.
Several men were unloading stone while others dug a long trench for the foundation.
Skoropadsky stepped out of the carriage and looked around carefully.
From there the road toward the town was clearly visible.
—"A good location."
Hryhorii Stepanovych nodded.
—"It will be easier to deliver grain here. And the finished alcohol can be sent directly to the town. The state warehouses will buy it anyway — the monopoly guarantees that."
Skoropadsky nodded slowly.
He walked along the lines marking the future foundation.
For now they were only marks on the ground.
But within a few months a distillery would stand there.
Workers continued digging the trench.
Pavlo watched them silently.
In his memory other images appeared.
Huge factories.
Railways.
Metallurgical furnaces.
He knew how important industry would become in the future.
Not only for wealth.
For war.
After some time they stepped aside to a small hill from which almost the entire construction site could be seen.
—"If everything goes well, the factory could begin operating by autumn," said Hryhorii Stepanovych.
Skoropadsky nodded.
—"The most important thing is not to rush. Better to build it properly."
For a few seconds they stood in silence.
Then the manager spoke carefully.
—"When you return to service, the work will continue."
It was not a question.
Skoropadsky knew that sooner or later he would have to leave.
The army remained his duty.
He looked once more at the construction site.
—"It will continue."
—"Oleksandra will oversee the matters."
Hryhorii Stepanovych nodded.
—"She already understands the accounts quite well."
Skoropadsky smiled slightly.
—"Sometimes better than I do."
The sun slowly rose higher above the fields.
Long shadows stretched across the wet earth.
Spring had only just begun.
There was still much work ahead.
But the most important step had already been taken.
The beginning had been made.