but not without an image of the Virgin, and a few saints framed
in yellow gauze.

A goose filled with sour stuffing swimming in thick cream,
barley bread, some curds, powdered sugar mixed with cinnamon,
and a jug of kwass, the ordinary Russian beer, were placed
before him, and sufficed to satisfy his hunger. He did justice
to the meal, which was more than could be said of his neighbor
at table, who, having, in his character of "old believer"
of the sect of Raskalniks, made the vow of abstinence,
rejected the potatoes in front of him, and carefully refrained
from putting sugar in his tea.

His supper finished, Michael Strogoff, instead of going up to his bedroom,
again strolled out into the town. But, although the long twilight
yet lingered, the crowd was already dispersing, the streets were gradually
becoming empty, and at length everyone retired to his dwelling.

Why did not Michael Strogoff go quietly to bed, as would have seemed
more reasonable after a long railway journey? Was he thinking
of the young Livonian girl who had been his traveling companion?
Having nothing better to do, he WAS thinking of her. Did he fear that,
lost in this busy city, she might be exposed to insult? He feared so,
and with good reason. Did he hope to meet her, and, if need were,
to afford her protection? No. To meet would be difficult.
As to protection--what right had he--

"Alone," he said to himself, "alone, in the midst of these
wandering tribes! And yet the present dangers are nothing
compared to those she must undergo. Siberia! Irkutsk! I am