indeed, carried their kindness beyond reasonable anticipations. They
brought us real pillows and other conveniences, bolted the doors against
nightly intruders, and in the morning conducted us into the pantry, to
wash our faces in the basin sacred to dishes. After I had completed my
ablutions, I turned dumbly, with dripping face and extended hands, for a
towel. My steward understood the silent appeal, and, taking a napkin
from a plate of bread, presented it with alacrity. I made use of it, I
confess, but hastened out of the pantry, lest I should happen to see it
restored to its former place. _How not to observe_ is a faculty as
necessary to the traveller as its reverse. I was reminded of this truth
at dinner, when I saw the same steward take a napkin (probably my
towel!) from under his arm, to wipe both his face and a plate which he
carried. To speak mildly, these people on Lake Ladoga are not sensitive
in regard to the contact of individualities. But the main point is to
avoid seeing what you don't like.

We got off at an early hour, and hastened back to Valaam over glassy
water and under a superb sky. This time the lake was not so deserted,
for the white wings of pilgrim-boats drew in towards the dark island,
making for the golden sparkle of the chapel-dome, which shone afar like
a light-house of the daytime. As we rounded to in the land-locked inlet,
we saw that the crowds on the hills had doubled since yesterday, and,
although the chimes were pealing for some religious service, it seemed
prudent first to make sure of our quarters for the night. Accordingly we
set out for the imposing house of guests beside the monastery, arriving
in company with the visitors we had brought with us from Serdopol. The
entrance-hall led into a long, stone-paved corridor, in which a monk,
bewildered by many applications, appeared to be seeking relief by
promises of speedy hospitality. We put in our plea, and also received a
promise. On either side of the corridor were numbered rooms, already