"You mean up the Mediterranean."
"Yes; and if I were you, I would have a letter of credit sent to me at Constantinople."
"Perhaps I will; but what's up, De Forrest?"
"Don't say a word now. All our chances for a soft thing are gone in this ship, and if you want to enjoy yourself for the rest of the season, keep your weather eye open, and follow my lead—that's all for the present."
At ten o'clock in the forenoon, the first division of the tourists, with the Volga party, embarked in the steamer for St. Petersburg. Each of the students had his pea-jacket and small bag. Mr. Agneau, the chaplain, was in charge of the division, and the surgeon, of the Volga party. On their arrival they took omnibuses for the Moscow station. Tickets for the party were procured, with places in the voiture au lit, or sleeping car. The distance to Moscow is six hundred and four versts, or four hundred miles. The fare is nineteen rubles, first class, and thirteen rubles, second class. The time is twenty hours by the express train, and four or five more by ordinary trains. Twenty miles an hour is rather slow for a fast train, but it is about the usual rate in Russia.
"That's it; this is a Yankee invention," said Scott, as Dr. Winstock handed him his ticket, which was precisely like those of the patented system used on most of the American railroads. "This looks like home. It is stamped with the date, and I suppose they have the machine for doing it. Here, doctor; the date is wrong."
"Wrong?" replied the surgeon, glancing at his ticket. "June 2; that's right."
"To-day is the 14th, sir."
"The 2d in Russia, my boy," laughed the doctor, hastening away to distribute his tickets.
"I suppose you know what Old Style means, Scott—don't you?" said Lincoln.