"Thank you."
The landlord was vexed to have his house passed by, and, afraid that he should lose his two customers if he mentioned them, he was content to keep still. Breakfast was sent up to the runaways, at an extra charge. They staid in their room all day, not daring to leave it lest they should be seen by some of their shipmates. If they had been condemned to such an imprisonment on board of the ship, even for running away, they would have called it tyranny. They looked through the apertures at the sides of the curtains, and saw the second division depart for St. Petersburg, and the third starting for the Kremlin. They dined in their room at five, and at half past eight in the evening, when the party at the other hotel had gone to the Petrofski Gardens, they paid their bill, and took a drosky for the Kief Railway station. The lady who sold the tickets spoke French, so that they had no difficulty there. At noon the next day they arrived at Orel, from which they departed at half past one for Dunaburg, on the line from St. Petersburg to Warsaw. They reached this town at six o'clock on the evening of the next day, and were obliged to wait till two o'clock the next morning for a train, by which they proceeded to Warsaw. They had been three days on the road, and had slept three nights on the train, travelling eleven hundred miles, and paying fifty rubles each for the fares, besides six more for meals. They were tired out, and utterly disgusted with railroad travelling. Taking a carriage at Praga, a suburb of Warsaw, where the station is located, they crossed the high bridge over the Vistula, and were left at the Hotel de l'Europe. They were shown to a room twenty feet square, for which the charge was two rubles a day.
In the restaurant on the lower floor, where the waiters spoke German as well as Polish, they found themselves seated near a party who were conversing in English. It consisted of a gentleman and two ladies, one of the latter being but about seventeen years old. They were dressed in black, and the younger was very pretty,—so pretty that De Forrest could not help looking at her, as opportunity favored him. But the young lady seemed as much inclined to look at the runaways, and their eyes often met. The party spoke in a low tone, and were evidently talking about the young officers. Presently the gentleman rose from his chair and approached them.
"I beg your pardon," said he; "but I think we have met before."
"Indeed! I was not aware of it; though I am very glad to see any one who speaks the English language," replied De Forrest.
"You belong to the school ship, if I mistake not. We went on board of her at Christiansand; you had just arrived from America, and we had come in the Orlando from Hull."
"Yes, sir; I remember that steamer, and the party that came on board the ship."
"My name is Kinnaird."
"I am happy to see you, Mr. Kinnaird. My name is De Forrest, and my friend is Mr. Beckwith."
"Now permit me to present you to the ladies, who were much interested in your ship, and especially in her young officers," added the polite gentleman, as he conducted them to the table his party had taken. "Mrs. Kinnaird, my wife."