thout the necessity of stopping, and pretend
that he was proceeding to Novgorod and Moscow on the same pious
pilgrimage.

Through marshes and blighted fir-plantations the weary wayfarer sped,
the White Sea rising frequently into storms of the utmost grandeur;
but the season was lovely, and the sun warm, so that camping out
offered less hardship. The wolves howled around him, but happily he
never saw them. Many soldiers, who were Poles, were established at
different points to take charge of the canals.

Having reached Vytegra, he was accosted on the shore by a peasant, who
asked where he was going. On hearing his story, he said--"You are the
man I want. I am going to St. Petersburg. My boat is small, and you
can assist me to row."

The crafty fellow evidently intended to profit by the pilgrim's arms
without wages; but, after long debate, he agreed to supply Piotrowski
with food during the transport. It seemed strange, indeed, to go to
the capital--like running into the jaws of the lion--but he seized
every occasion to pass on, lest his papers should be asked for. As
they coasted down through Lake Ladoga and the Neva, they took in some
women as passengers, who were servants, and had been home to see their
parents. One of them, an aged washerwoman, was so teased by the
others, that Piotrowski took her part, and in return she offered him
some very useful assistance.

"My daughter," she said, "will come to meet me, and she will find you
a suitable lodging."

It will be guessed with what joy he accepted the proposal; and during
all the time spent in the boat, no one came to ask for passports. The
house she took him to was sufficiently miserable; as the Russians say,
"It was the bare ground, with the wrist for a pillow." He asked his
hostess if he must see the police to arrange the business of his
passport. "No," she said. "If you only stay a few days, it is useless.
They have become so exacting, that they would require me to accompany
you, and my time is too precious."

As he passed along the quays, looking for a ship, his eyes rested on
one to sail for Riga on the following morning. He could scarcely
master his emotion. The pilot on board called out--"If you want a
place to Riga, come here."

"I certainly want one; but I am too poor to sail in a steamer. It
would cost too much."

He named a very small sum, and said--"Come; why do you hesitate?"

"I only arrived yesterday, and the police have not _vise_ my
passpo