CHAPTER XXV.

A RUSSIAN POST-HOUSE.

N the family council Ruth had carried her point with little opposition. She

had still, however, a hard battle to fight with Lord Glenant when they were alone together. He protested against her plan. He said that if it failed, he should be greatly blamed by his father for having deserted them: it was not part of their original plan that they should separate in this way. Ruth, however, succeeded in convincing him that it was the best plan. How otherwise could they dispose of him? It was probable, she said, that a great singer would be accompanied by her father, by her maestro, and by her maid. But there would be no way

of accounting well for Lord Glenant's presence. His passport bore his own name. Then, again,

he might be recognized. True it was, they were going to return through Russia by a route different from that by which they had come to this place. But spies and police were everywhere.

Lord Glenant at last yielded, and it was decided that the journey should be undertaken in the way that Ruth had suggested.

It did not, however, commence at the early hour that Ruth had proposed. The old Count had been much astonished, and somewhat hurt, at his son's not having come to him. They had, at first, accounted for Casimir's absence by pleading, as an excuse, a slight illness on his part; but in a conversation, on the day previous to their departure, they had, in consequence of the old Count's querulous remarks about his son's absence, betrayed more of the real state of the case than they had intended to do. They had disclosed the fact that it was an accident, and not a slight illness, which was the cause of the young Count's absence. The father had naturally

taken this much to heart, and believed that the worst had been concealed from him. He was so unwell when the hour arrived at which it had been proposed to start, that their departure was obliged to be delayed for some hours, which was most infortunate.

They did, however, begin their journey on that day, but only reached that large village, where Boris Bauer was stationed, as evening was coming on. There they were obliged to stay, not so much because it was evening, as because one of the Emperor's aides-de-camp, who had arrived just before them, had taken five of the horses from the post station, and there were not enough horses left to take on the heavy berline. This did not trouble them much, for they were prepared for being obliged to rest at such places in the course of their journey. Russian travel is somewhat oriental in its character; and a Russian inn, at such a place as this village, was somewhat like a caravanserai. One or two rooms were given up to the travellers, but little else beyond the shelter of a roof was provided for

them. The landlord of the inn did not take much interest in their proceedings, or aid much in procuring any especial comforts for them. He gave them their two rooms and a samovar,1 and then left them to their own devices.

His indifference, however, was more than compensated for by the attention which they received from a little man, who did not seem to belong to the inn, but to be a villager who found it worth his while, doubtless in expectation of some small gratuity, to place his services at the disposal of travellers similarly situated.

This good little man was in and out of their rooms during the whole evening, arranging this, and providing that, and doing his utmost to make them comfortable. He was very talkative too, seemed to know all about the road they were to travel the next morning, and even hinted what an invaluable person he would be for them to take on with them. Their own courier seemed to have an unaccountable dislike to this man;

1 A tea-urn.

and they observed to one another that Basili

(that was the name of the courier) was rather jealous, and evidently thought that this fussy little man was usurping his functions.

If they could have followed the little man sometimes when he left the room, they would have thought that he was a literary character, for he was always making notes in a stealthy How he would talk about England too, when he was in the room, and how he did amuse them with his very questionable French!

manner.

On the ensuing morning, when they were about to recommence their journey, their little friend was nowhere to be seen. They were quite vexed at not being able to reward his kind attention with the gratuity which they had intended to give. This incident discomfited Ruth, and throughout the day caused her much anxious thought; but she did not impart her thoughts to her companions.

At about five o'clock in the afternoon the travellers reached the town of

a town

which has before been alluded to as being one of