ppers of leather richly worked, and many similar articles,
such as English travellers in Russia are accustomed to purchase. The
prices he named were very moderate. While he was displaying his
merchandise, Cousin Giles was observing him narrowly.

"Why, he is our friend the mujick," he whispered to Mr Allwick. "The
man can masquerade well."

The waiter had now left the room. The merchant went to the door and
looked out. He then came back to the table on which he had spread out
his merchandise, and addressed Mr Allwick in a low, earnest voice. The
latter now grew very much interested, apparently, with what he heard.
The stranger perceived that his cause was making progress, and continued
his story with increased earnestness. At length he stopped to allow Mr
Allwick to translate to his friends what had been said. Cousin Giles
looked inquiringly at him for an explanation.

"I will translate, as nearly as I can, what he has told me," said Mr
Allwick.

"I am, you must know, sirs," said he, "one of that class of dissenters
from the Established Greek Church whom our countrymen designate as
_molokani_ or milk-drinkers. You have not heard of them, perhaps. I
will tell you about them. Many years ago the unadulterated word of
God--the Holy Bible, translated into our native language--was brought
into Russia without note or comment. Some copies of it reached my
native province, and were received most gladly by many of our peasants.
Those who could afford it eagerly bought the book of glad tidings; those
who could not clubbed their money together and became the joyful
purchasers of a copy. How the book came, no one could tell. Some said
that a stranger from another land brought many volumes of the book with
him in a large chest, and that he travelled about from village to
village, instructing certain men in each village, and making them desire
to possess the book. Though such might have been the case, I never saw
the stranger. All I know is, that a certain very pious man in our
village had several copies of the book which he had bought at a great
cost, though not too great for its value, oh no! And that he sold them
without profit to all who would buy--rather, I would say, at a loss, for
to some who could not pay the full cost he remitted part of the amount.
When we got the book we lost no time in reading it. In the fields in
summer, under the shade of trees, we sat and read it, where no one could
watch us; in ou